He had become all but immune to the inane seagull squawks that were quite foreign to him; he had been raised in a sea of sands, mighty dunes like waves ever marching towards the sea amid fierce, blistering winds and a carnal sun. His sandals clapped along the wooden deck as he strode towards the exit ramp off the ship; the metal rails were hot and the people were dark and noisy. In many ways, Sikandara felt like home. A man in white robes, upon his head a flat, red fez cap, flashed a smile at him. His teeth were yellow and his gums seemed blackened, but the wrinkle in his eyes spoke of genuine happiness in his smile.
"'Asad ad-Din?" the man inquired in the language of the Quran.
"Salaam. Selim Çelik I presume?" 'Asad replied. Selim bowed his head and gestured that 'Asad should follow, reaching for 'Asad's briefcase to assist the new arrival to Sikandara. "No, it's quite alright. I can handle this myself," he said in a guarded tone, holding the briefcase close. Selim paid no attention to 'Asad's rebuff and the two headed towards a waiting vehicle.
The vehicle was stuffy, even with the windows open, but as it drove off the rushing breeze was relieving. "The weather here is quite different than al-Qadim, is it not?" Selim grinned.
"Yes, it is quite humid here. I'm not sure what to think of it yet," 'Asad replied with a wry smile. "Does the weather compliment your studies well?"
Selim shrugged. "Who's to say, I am not the best suited to reflect on my own work," he replied. "I am glad you have come this far to learn, however." The vehicle slowed as it arrived at a Sikandari checkpoint, the soldiers in uniform seemed relaxed and carefree. The driver searched for his papers and Selim lowered his eyes away from the guard. The man in uniform scanned the papers then looked at the ID of the driver, then into the back seat. What should have been a routine stop was complicated as Selim avoided eye contact.
The soldier stood beside the door and blew a puff into the window and Selim choked on the smoke. "Identification papers, please," the soldier asked first in Sikandari, then in the language of the Quran.
"Excuse me, sir, but my teacher is in poor health and I am trying to take him to a doctor," he said, reaching into the pocket inside his jacket and rummaging for his passport. He passed it on to the soldier worriedly.
"You realize you are entering a dangerous area?" the soldier raised an eyebrow as he looked over the documents.
"Yes, but I come from Cadim. Our healthcare there is poor, my teacher's family has a doctor who can provide us affordable service," 'Asad pleaded. The soldiers eyes showed sympathy, no doubt the man himself was a son of the faith who had elderly family to tend to as well.
"Very well, but be safe. There are rebels and brigands in these parts, so take care of your teacher and yourself. Ma' al-salamah."
"Fi amanillah," 'Asad replied. The driver did not hesitate to drive as the arm raised to allow them past. 'Asad's eyes connected with Selim's; they had passed the point of no return. 'Asad's training would begin soon.
"'Asad ad-Din?" the man inquired in the language of the Quran.
"Salaam. Selim Çelik I presume?" 'Asad replied. Selim bowed his head and gestured that 'Asad should follow, reaching for 'Asad's briefcase to assist the new arrival to Sikandara. "No, it's quite alright. I can handle this myself," he said in a guarded tone, holding the briefcase close. Selim paid no attention to 'Asad's rebuff and the two headed towards a waiting vehicle.
The vehicle was stuffy, even with the windows open, but as it drove off the rushing breeze was relieving. "The weather here is quite different than al-Qadim, is it not?" Selim grinned.
"Yes, it is quite humid here. I'm not sure what to think of it yet," 'Asad replied with a wry smile. "Does the weather compliment your studies well?"
Selim shrugged. "Who's to say, I am not the best suited to reflect on my own work," he replied. "I am glad you have come this far to learn, however." The vehicle slowed as it arrived at a Sikandari checkpoint, the soldiers in uniform seemed relaxed and carefree. The driver searched for his papers and Selim lowered his eyes away from the guard. The man in uniform scanned the papers then looked at the ID of the driver, then into the back seat. What should have been a routine stop was complicated as Selim avoided eye contact.
The soldier stood beside the door and blew a puff into the window and Selim choked on the smoke. "Identification papers, please," the soldier asked first in Sikandari, then in the language of the Quran.
"Excuse me, sir, but my teacher is in poor health and I am trying to take him to a doctor," he said, reaching into the pocket inside his jacket and rummaging for his passport. He passed it on to the soldier worriedly.
"You realize you are entering a dangerous area?" the soldier raised an eyebrow as he looked over the documents.
"Yes, but I come from Cadim. Our healthcare there is poor, my teacher's family has a doctor who can provide us affordable service," 'Asad pleaded. The soldiers eyes showed sympathy, no doubt the man himself was a son of the faith who had elderly family to tend to as well.
"Very well, but be safe. There are rebels and brigands in these parts, so take care of your teacher and yourself. Ma' al-salamah."
"Fi amanillah," 'Asad replied. The driver did not hesitate to drive as the arm raised to allow them past. 'Asad's eyes connected with Selim's; they had passed the point of no return. 'Asad's training would begin soon.