Hilal paused at the threshold, his steps carrying a trace of hesitation, while Aws followed, dragging behind him the long shadow of bewilderment. It was not long before Shams emerged, accompanied by the woman she had entered with. At that moment, Shams truly seemed radiant—like daylight breaking after a long night. Her face bore the marks of a happiness Aws had never seen upon her before. She appeared lighter, freer, as though some hidden shackle within her had finally fallen away. With steady steps, she drew near to Hilal and Aws.
Hilal spoke with a decisive voice:
"Let us go."
The woman nodded quietly, her composure dignified, then walked alongside him. To Aws and Shams, their closeness seemed strange. They kept to the rear, watching, unwilling—or perhaps unable—to interfere.
The four of them left through the gate and made their way toward the market. Before them opened a scene brimming with colors and clamor: merchants crying out at the top of their lungs to draw attention to their goods; the scents of spices mingling with the aroma of fresh meat and sweet fruit; the clang of hammers striking copper intertwining with children's laughter and the sharp exchanges of bargaining women. The air itself was thick with motion and life. Yet within Aws's heart there remained a hollowness nothing could fill.
As they moved through the crowd, Hilal leaned toward the woman, speaking in low tones. She answered him with brief, polite smiles, until his lips curved into a tender smile of his own. The sight struck Aws and Shams like an arrow. The story they had heard earlier that day returned to them—that some men reveal their true selves only when temptation presents itself. Doubt seeped into their hearts, and confusion veiled their faces as though it would never lift.
Hilal's grin widened, stretching unnaturally from ear to ear. Then, without warning, he slipped his arm boldly around the woman's waist. He turned his head toward Aws and Shams as though parading his act before them, the broad grin still fixed upon him. The two were stunned, as if struck by a blow they had not foreseen. But the woman did not let the moment linger. She raised her hand and gently pushed his face away until he drew back, his cheeks flushed with a mingled heat of shame and irritation. Her lips pressed into a feigned pout, then she turned aside, feigning distraction.
She busied herself at the stalls: selecting vibrant fruits, glossy vegetables, fresh cuts of meat, and nuts fragrant with roasted warmth. After some time, she stopped and fixed Hilal with a firm, silent look, as though her eyes alone declared, Know your place. He approached the vendor and drew out his wallet. Suddenly his eyes brimmed, tears spilling like a waterfall, not only streaming down his face but pouring into the heart of anyone who beheld him. With trembling hands he pulled out the money, paid with a faltering voice, then turned to Aws with a glance so piercing that fear clenched Aws's chest.
Terrified, Aws rushed to gather part of the purchases. Hilal carried the rest, though his hands seemed feeble, as though the weight upon him was not that of food but of his own heavy spirit.
The woman came beside Shams, took her hand gently, and walked ahead with sure steps. The others followed. Hilal now moved as though his soul had slipped from his body—his gait slow, his eyes vacant, his face pale. He looked like a lifeless puppet bereft of strings, or a corpse swaying in false motion. Aws walked beside him, forcing a strange smile upon his face, one born of unease and awkwardness rather than joy.
They left the market behind. Yet between the four of them, the air still quivered like a taut string ready to snap. The road toward the residential quarter was calmer: narrow alleys lined with wooden doors, the air scented with meals simmering behind closed walls. The woman stopped before one door, opened it with ease, and invited Shams inside. Shams hesitated, then stepped through, followed by Hilal and Aws, who bore the weight of the goods.
They entered the small sitting hall and set their bundles upon the central table. Aws and Shams seated themselves opposite one another, while the woman disappeared into the deeper rooms. Hilal trailed after her, his tone softening into coaxing words. She dismissed him with silent sternness, then shut the door of an inner chamber behind them, leaving Aws and Shams alone in the hall.
For a moment silence reigned, until Aws cleared his throat.
"Hello, Shams."
She smiled shyly.
"Hello, Aws."
He scratched the back of his head, hesitant.
"We never really had the chance to introduce ourselves. Hilal swept us up without giving us any time… haha…"
A nervous laugh broke from his lips, choked by uncertainty. Then his gaze shifted to her clothes.
"Your clothes… and mine… they're alike. But everyone else here dresses so differently from us."
Shams's face lit up with delight.
"Do you think this is another world? Or the past? It doesn't matter… it doesn't matter! Haha… What matters is that I escaped that soulless city."
Aws studied her in astonishment.
"How did you escape?"
Her voice turned heavy with bitterness.
"As I walked home one day, I was seized by an unbearable suffocation. I despised that way of life—slavery, really—where some unseen force moves us in endless circles without meaning or end."
A spark flashed in Aws's mind. The image she painted mirrored his own, yet it was also different. He told her what had happened to him in the city, about his sense of emptiness and alienation, then added:
"If we put our stories together, they complete each other. The common thread is the same: life drained of spirit. But your explanation is that some organization enforces this deliberately, while mine is that it is the nature of life itself—a creation unknown… not entirely unknown anymore, after we met Hilal."
He froze suddenly, as though lightning struck him.
"Wait… an organization! Didn't Hilal say there were groups allied with demons?"
Silence thickened the air. Neither of them could confirm the suspicion that had surfaced. Aws gestured for her to continue.
She nodded.
"As I walked, I passed a jewelry seller. I can't explain it, but I felt a strange pull toward this ring." She lifted her hand to show him. "I bought it. As I continued along the sidewalk, suddenly a car faced me with blinding lights. I shut my eyes against the glare, and when I opened them, I was here! I wandered in confusion until I reached that house, saw what I saw, and met you and Hilal… the rest you know."
She exhaled deeply and looked at him.
"Tell me—how did you arrive?"
Aws lifted the sword that lay beside him and set it upon the small table between them. A faint light glimmered along its blade as he spoke:
"I fell… I don't even know from where. When I awoke, I was in a strange place. I discovered the sword only when it began to glow. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I found myself in this city."
His eyes clung to the blade, while Shams's fingers would not leave her ring. Each bore a mark, as if fate itself had woven their paths together to different world. And yet—the God who reigned over both was one and the same.