Age: 15 | Location: Mosul – Merchant Guild / Streets / Rooftop
📍 Scene: Guild Courtyard — Early Morning
The call to Fajr prayer still echoed when ZAYD IBN SULEIMAN began his morning chores at the Merchant Guild compound. He swept stones, organized cargo manifests, and helped younger boys untangle ropes from carts.
But his eyes were never idle — always observing, always memorizing.
USTADH FARUQ (watching him quietly):
"You sweep like a servant… and watch like a wolf."
ZAYD (smiling faintly):
"It's not the hands, Ustadh… it's the eyes that bring wealth."
📍 Scene: Guild Archives — Mid-Morning
By now, Zayd had earned permission to sit in the guild archives under supervision. With Nimr perched quietly nearby, he read aloud ancient texts in Arabic, Persian, and basic Syriac — slowly improving his skill in decoding commercial treaties, weights, and seals.
He asked the clerk questions others were too afraid to ask:
ZAYD:
"Why did the spice prices crash in spring last year?"
CLERK:
"Too much rain in Malabar. Fewer ships from the eastern coast. You're learning."
Zayd jotted it down in his private notebook. His old business instincts — from his first life — were returning like a sharpened blade.
📍 Scene: Rooftop — Late Afternoon
On the rooftop, Zayd trained alone. He had bartered for a short wooden staff and was mimicking the Yemenite guard stances he had observed at the gates.
Nimr let out a screech from a nearby ledge, and Zayd laughed.
ZAYD:
"What? My footwork is better than yesterday."
He practiced balance, speed, control — not strength. He knew muscle could be beaten, but strategy rarely failed.
📍 Scene: Market Alley — Evening
That evening, Zayd passed by a back alley and noticed a boy crying over spilled grain. A group of older apprentices jeered at him.
Zayd approached.
ZAYD (firmly):
"Pick on someone who can break your teeth."
They laughed — until Nimr swooped low with a piercing cry, brushing the shoulder of one bully with his sharp talon.
They ran. The crying boy looked up, astonished.
BOY (whispering):
"Are you a prince or a sorcerer?"
ZAYD:
"Neither. Just a merchant's son… who knows how to listen."
📍 Scene: Guild Hall — Night
Later that night, Faruq called Zayd into his study.
USTADH FARUQ:
"There are rumors, Zayd. Letters from Baghdad speak of tensions between court merchants and tribal smugglers. If war breaks out, goods will shift. What does that mean to you?"
Zayd's answer was calm and immediate.
ZAYD:
"It means I should learn where merchants go when trade breaks… and who profits in silence."
Faruq looked at him long, then handed him a sealed envelope.
USTADH FARUQ:
"This is a letter of introduction… to a man in Aleppo. You'll travel with the spice convoy next season."
Zayd's heart pounded — his first assignment beyond Mosul.
📍 Closing Narration:
At 15, Zayd was becoming more than a bright apprentice. His words were sharper. His thinking quicker. His silence more meaningful.
And with Nimr beside him, the city of Mosul had begun whispering his name not as a stranger…
…but as a shadow worth watching.
End of Chapter 8