El Ghaliya

Her shadow.

The summer night has fallen quietly on the palace of Sultan Rashad. It was, fortunately, a moonless night. A somber dim night which frightened even the bravest of warriors, for the people of the Moors believed in the Jnoun, invisible creatures that have supernatural powers and live in the human world. These creatures are believed to be active during the night and if disturbed, they can be capable of great harm. El Ghaliya, although raised with these stories and was fully aware of the risks she was taking, didn’t hesitate in slipping out of her bed without wearing her babouche. She needed all the secrecy she could afford. And luckily, she had small baby feet that were like cat paws, they left no trace that she advanced swiftly in the corridors protected by the darkness and enveloped in her black hair. The hardest part of this operation was opening the door of her study room without making a sound. It was true that she was secluded from the rest of the residents. Her room was quite far from the quarters of the Sultan and even farther from the quarters of any royal family member. No guards bothered to protect a bunch of books and a worthless room similar to her study. They preferred to watch over the other rooms with more valuable property, but a person can never be careful enough in the palace. Eyes and ears can pop up from a secret entrance and can vanish in mystery. She pushed the door ajar and slipped through it like a boneless body, making sure that she closed it as silently as she could.

El Ghaliya stood in the middle of the room; her eyes were not used to such darkness. So, she closed them, stopped breathing, and listened carefully for any sound. In a very far corner of the room, you could sense the presence of a shadow standing motionlessly, trying to recognize the person who just entered. That person was meticulously careful in approaching El Ghaliya’s back and knew, in an instant, that it was her from that bush of a hair that she carried on her head. His arm, masculine and invisible in the dark, extended and reached her shoulder. She also extended her hands carefully to his face, without saying a word, and drew his features with her own fingers to make sure that it wasn’t a trap, that it wasn’t an illusion of her own mind. And when she made sure that it was him, she hurriedly buried her face in his chest and her face melted down with enormous hot tears. She said, interrupted with her sobs:

“Yazad! Yazad! May God have mercy on us! Did you hear the news? Did you know?”

He knew what it was, but remained composed. He wanted to hear these news from her while he was patting her head. As chubby as Al Ghaliya was, she looked small in his arms and if you looked from some distance, you would be surprised to see that the princess was hugging a silhouette. As a spectator, you need to get closer to know that the man had a pitch-black skin that fuses well in the darkness of the night. He finally managed to say:

“No, I do not know. What happened to you? Tell me, my precious one, my Ghaliya!”

His voice was far from being calm, and she didn’t miss the agitation in it. She forced herself to quench those tears and ask him in the softest tone:

“Yazad! Light a candle! Let me see you! Let me look at you, for I believe I am hallucinating! Light a candle, please!”

He moved in the dark like a shadow and headed directly towards a shelf. He was familiar with the room; for he spent every night in it awaiting her arrival and learning by heart her favorite books and poems. Once the candle was lit, El Ghaliya regretted it secretly. There wasn’t a time more than these moments that she wished she had a more of a feminine body with equal proportions. Perhaps, all she needed is better shoulders and a thinner waist and maybe, she was wrong in meeting him in such a Gandora. She could have put more effort into her looks; a little musk wouldn’t have a hurt and a pin in her hair would have been a great addition. But, it was too late for regrets. She whispered:

“My father arranged a marriage for me. Me! I thought I was safe! I thought that studying, learning, and pouring my heart and soul into these books would save me. But, now this foreigner appeared out of nowhere. (She looked up at him and squeezed his hands). What to do now? Let’s run together! Let’s flee this place!”

His eyes were grave and the light of the candle did not do his features justice, but she knew how handsome he was under the light of the sun or the moon. He was a well-built young man, tall, friendly, and has the dignity of a noble. He smiled, revealing a pearly white set of teeth:

“Don’t go inventing such stupid ideas! You know what I am! (He looked pained) I cannot protect you outside these walls and if it was only my head that they will go after, I would have done it gladly. But, I… I.. cannot risk your life. Your precious life! There will never be a princess like you again.”

She interrupted him with glistening eyes:

“No… please, do not torture me! Do not add salt to my injury! I do not want to see you as a slave (her voice cracked), the slave my father made you be. I will free you. I will free you.”

Her words filled him with the desire to squeeze her in his arms. How could a person in his right mind ever call such a beautiful human being plain? How could so much justice, so much love and knowledge be contained in such a small body? Yet Yazad refrained from advancing for fear of offending her. He summoned his courage and said:

“My Ghaliya! Patience is all we’ve got. You have to meet this foreigner (She gasped with terror in her eyes.) Yes, you have to meet him and find fault in him. And… Don’t worry.. I will be there for you! I will be your shadow!”

Before he could finish his sentence, his sharp ears caught a sound from outside, so in an instant, he extinguished the candle with the palm of his hand and retreated into the darkness. Jameelah, the eldest daughter, threw the door open and stood still staring at El Ghaliya suspiciously.