Entering the House of Shams al-Duhur
Sheikh Shams al-Duhur turned slowly, as if each movement were measured by time itself, and spoke in a deep, quiet voice that echoed through the surrounding air:
"Come," Shams al-Duhur said.
Mohammed and Susan rose from the ground, brushing away the layers of dust that had clung to them during their long journey across the desert, where every movement was muffled, mingled with the cold wind that swept in from outside.
Shams al-Duhur walked toward the heavy wooden door, adorned with strange, dark brass carvings, which stood wide open like a mysterious invitation. It seemed as though he drew behind him an aura of solemn silence, a presence that made everything around him feel smaller and weaker—even in the night itself. He paused for a moment on the th
