shaykhah = A female scholar, daughter, wife or mother of the Sheik.

---Nadir's POV---

The last of the bandages dropped off easily, spilling onto the floor as I paid them no mind. The skin of my palms was scarred, yes, but as I flexed my fingers in every which way I could, I was lucky to only find minor discomfort.

Things could've gone way worse and I mostly thanked the good care of these people. The daily routines of washing my wounds and cleansing the bandages had improved the wound greatly, leaving only minimal scarring.

A sound in the stables made me look up, slightly smirking as I noticed one of Carson's men nonchalantly walking inside, as if he wasn't spying on me. Truthfully, if I wasn't so in tune with my surroundings, I wouldn't have spotted him, seeing as he stopped at a few horses to pet and talk to them.

Sadly for him, I knew better. I guess they feared that I was going to use the cover of night and disappear towards my next target. Closing my hands, I picked up the sullied bandages to throw them away later and focused more on Tahir.

He had been slightly skittish after the thunderstorm but I knew it was a normal reaction after all. It was good that he had some rest, good quality food and a nice stable for once. I never risked taking Tahir into the cities, as Sheiks were known to take what they wanted.

Sighing, I rested my brow against Tahir's strong neck, his mane tickling slightly. He nickered softly, shuffling his weight from foot to foot before stepping to the side, nudging me with his chest.

"Yeah, you're eager to go, aren't you boy?" I murmured softly, scratching at his skin. Tahir neighed as if responding before bending his head, rubbing his lip against my shoulder. I smiled, knowing that it was a horse's instinctual grooming behavior that they often did to one another.

Luckily, Tahir seemed to understand that the use of teeth wasn't appreciated against humans, as he only rubbed his upper lip back and forth in a gentle show of affection and kindness. I patted him on the neck before reaching down to check his hooves.

Everything seemed to be in tip top shape and Tahir allowed me easily to pick up his legs, patiently waiting for his hoof inspection until I was satisfied. He already knew what was coming of course and danced on the spot, letting out an excited neigh when I showed him the apple I brought with me.

"Here you go Tahir, you deserve it. I hope you had your rest boy, it'll be a while before we can relax and live calmly." I murmured softly, smiling as he took the apple from my hand with a loud crunch, eating it eagerly.

Glancing back, I saw the mercenary quickly turn his head back around, making me roll my eyes. These men weren't so eager to trade me out to the nearest Sheik, yet they also didn't seem interested to leave me be.

It made me wonder why but I shook the idea off, scoffing to myself. It didn't matter why they didn't intervene, why they were amused with watching my movements in an attempt to catch me in the act.

Patting Tahir one last time on his neck, I made my way back out the stables, having an niggling feeling that Carson was going to show up at my room any time soon. I nodded at the owners of the inn, as they already knew I was setting out that day.

After all, they had offered me a set of their clothes while mine were being washed and I smiled and lowered my head in thanks when they handed me the bundle of soft linnen. Rushing to my room, I made quick work of my shirt and pants, tugging on my familiar clothes.

Just as I was pulling my pants up though, I heard the creaking of the door behind me and scowled slightly. I could feel eyes clearly on my back, whomever had entered the room was still silent.

Or perhaps, shocked into silence. My years forced in slavery had left severe marks on my back from the countless amount of lashes I had received. The scars would often protest with phantom pains and heat up painfully but... they were also a reminder.

In the days that I felt down and wanted to forget about everything, pretend my past had never happened, those scars burned viciously. A reminder that what happened to me was also happening to countless innocent children, who were beaten into submission and sold for a pretty penny.

Glaring over my shoulder, I saw Carson gulp slightly before he averted his eyes when I shrugged my shirt on. I didn't care for the pity in his eyes or the shock on his face. That pity just made me angry because it showed that even now, with all the scars I had to show for it, people still saw me as property.

They didn't see me for whom I was, but simply for whom I'd belonged to. And I was so fucking sick of being treated like a commodity, an object you desired to display but could easily hand off or replace by another.

I ignored him as he struggled to find words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish on land, drowning yet alive. As he stood there, struggling to find words, I was reminded of how I had always refused to keep my head down.

Some of the lashings on my back were simply from glaring at my masters, for refusing to back down and accept my inferior spot. Instead, I had raised my head and glared straight on at them, even when I had been stripped and tied to the post, whipped till I was nearly dead.

The only time that I had averted my eyes was simply due to passing out from the pain. And now I was going to use the memory of that pain to go after my remaining masters. I would hunt them all down and slay them for laying a hand on children, for allowing such filth to happen while they had the power to change the future.

All those Sheiks were fat and wealthy beyond imagination, yet all of them fell victim to the same disease of greed, lust and envy.

"Nadir."

I blinked, finishing buckling my belt and arranging my weapons before raising my head to meet Carson straight on. He swallowed with some difficulty, a motion in the darkness behind him clued me in on the presence of Mord'U. I figured he was here to threaten me or attempt to stop me from going after my former masters.

So imagine my surprise when he simply said, "Be careful." No threats or veiled warnings, no angry words spat out to ring from the walls in an attempt to frighten me.

Instead, genuine worry as they both looked at me with...understanding. I could see the respect in their eyes, could tell that they realized why I needed to do this. I smirked, tilting my head as I looked at Carson. "Worried about lil old me?"

"Perhaps." He replied, smile tugging at his lips as he crossed his arms. There was a playful glint in his eyes as he continued, "Personally I loved our previous chases. The hunt is never as interesting if your prey doesn't make it exciting."

He winked at my stunned look before walking out, Mordu's deep chuckles echoing through the small room as he left after his boss. I felt flustered as I grabbed the rest of my items and stored them away, tossing the bag over my shoulder as I went downstairs to pay for my room.

So Carson hadn't given up the chase... It would be interesting to keep him on his toes, for sure. Excitement brought a skip to my step as I walked towards Tahir, seeing him standing ready in the stables, tossing his head and dancing on his hooves.

We both were done here, eager to leave and get on with our lives. After all this was over and done with, I did want to return to what remained of my village, to pay respects to my family.

After that, I had no idea what to do. But surely I'd find out what the future holds on my path towards it. For now, I was going to focus on my next target and how to get to her.

A bittersweet smile splayed on my lips as I remembered the shaykhah who had bought me when she came over to inspect on the progress of the newest potions. I had presumably caught her eye and she had bought me from a reluctant sheik, though he had been more than happy with the slaves she offered in return.

Settling into the saddle and letting Tahir pick his own pace, I remembered the woman who had owned me for quite some time. She had been cold and bitter, lashing out to anyone standing in her way, yet she cared, in her own twisted version.

Still, her thirst for knowledge have pushed so many innocent lives into the abyss. She had lied, cheated and sold her way to the top, all the while hiding herself behind the lectures she spewed on a daily basis.

Sometimes I wondered if she was merely hiding her guilty conscious behind the words of Allah, seeking comfort in it in an attempt to sooth her soul. After all, she was devout to a fault and would try to repent for her sins by doing something good.

But two wrongs don't make a right. Buying slaves under the guise of giving them a better home doesn't disguise the fact that she treated them like filth afterwards. Her moodswings were terrible and in fits of range she'd sell the entire slave household, only to weep and beg for mercy when she heard they were doomed to work in the mines or killed for minor transgressions.

It was time that Daliah's rampage ended and that she would meet her maker and beg for his forgiveness. She surely wasn't going to receive mine.