The morning sun bled through the cracks of their broken walls, warm and unforgiving.
Heaven swept the coarse stones outside their door, dust dancing in the dry air. Her mother, silent and weary, knelt by the hearth, grinding what little grain they had into a meal barely enough for two. The silence of dawn clung to the home until the bedroom curtain rustled, and he emerged.
Their father.
He groaned, shielding his eyes from the blinding sunlight. "Too bright," he muttered hoarsely, his breath thick with the remnants of drink. His eyes were bloodshot. His skin, sun-worn and dry.
"Heaven!" he barked. "Bring me some water."
She muttered curses beneath her breath, but turned to the small jug. Only a single bowlful remained — the last drop. She poured it into a worn clay bowl and walked over to him, expression hard.
He took it with shaking hands, splashed his face, then downed the rest greedily, sighing in relief. Then, as if the day before had never happened:
"Irman! Irman!" he shouted. "Where's that good-for-nothing boy?!"
Their mother's hands froze at the hearth.
"At the prison," Heaven said flatly, picking up an empty bucket.
He froze. The water in his mouth spilled from his lips and dripped down his chin. "What?"
But she was already walking away, the bucket swaying at her side.
It was left to her mother to tell him the truth. The blood. The crime. The pain. And as Heaven stepped out into the morning heat, she clenched her jaw to keep from breaking. The world hadn't stopped. But she had. Every step forward felt like dragging a mountain behind her.
The path to the well was long ,past the edge of their town, through a winding trail lined with scraggly desert brush and the skeletal shade of dry palms. And yet it was the only way to water.
She met her friend Rasha on the way, bright as ever, her brown scarf tied tightly over her head, shielding her from the sun.
"You didn't sleep, did you?" Rasha asked as they walked.
"I couldn't," Heaven muttered.
"All will be fine, we haven't heard anything bad from the prison yet so irman will be fine"
"And nothing good either" Heaven said with a sigh.
" Heaven…." Rasha called out sadly
But Heaven said in her hot breath " as long as father is alive, life will never be alright" it hurts her to say this, no matter what he was still her father, but sometimes she felt like if he died one day, she wouldn't hurt because of all the problems he brought to them " He causes problems on his own and we all have to suffer, if there was someone who should've been taken instead of irman to prison, it wouldn't been him"
" well if this would make you feel any better my father gambled my big sister away, today she shall be taken as a slave for the riches"
Heaven turned to her, shocked " what?!"
"See? I told you, your father is way better, at least he didn't give you away"
" But we should help her, we can't let them take Sarah away" Heaven said with fury in her eyes, both of their fathers were useless
" we stop them from taking my sister, they'll take our home. There's nothing we can do about it Heaven"
Heaven stared at Rasha with teary eyes " Am sorry Rasha"
Rasha with tears in her eyes told her " look at you, the one who should be begging for forgiveness is busy gambling our lives to them and the one who has nothing to do with this is begging for forgiveness, it's not like you're the one who brought father to our lives"
She was right, they didn't ask for this, but they suffered as if they were part of it.
They walked in silence for a while, the wind pushing sand along the path like ghosts. The heat pressed down on them mercilessly. But just before the bend to the outer path, a group of men appeared ahead — lounging against a stone wall like flies on a carcass.
One of them, Blain, stepped forward. His shirt was half open, and his eyes — always too eager — raked Heaven from head to toe.
"Bless the desert, look who walks," he smirked. "The beauty of Duneshara herself."
Heaven didn't answer. She knew whom she meant, she heard this all her life. Men praising her beauty, making the woman poor and rich jealous. If only her face and body would make life easy for them.
Could it?
"Where are you headed, pretty eyes?" Blain pressed on. "I'll carry your bucket ,for a kiss."
Her grip on the bucket tightened.
Rasha, always the spitfire, scoffed. "Blain, go find a camel to charm. This one's smarter than your tongue."
Blain laughed. "Come now. I'm just saying if she wasn't so skinny, she'd be—"
Before he could finish, Heaven slipped off her sandal and held it up. "Say one more word, Blain. Just one. I dare you."
" A pretty face, a pretty mouth but a stinking attitude" The men stepped back. Rasha burst into laughter as Blain muttered a curse and waved them off. The girls continued down the path, still giggling.
"He's disgusting," Heaven said.
"He's a fool," Rasha said. "But you know. He's not that wrong. You're beautiful. Too beautiful, if you weren't so…. You, you could be married by now, you know. You're twenty-two. A few more years and no man will want you."
"I'm not looking to be owned," Heaven replied. "If all men are like Blain… or like my father… I'll stay chaste forever."
"God forbid!" Rasha exclaimed, smacking her lightly on the arm. "Don't say that! Not all men are like our fathers or that bastard blain, I know for sure there are men out there who truly are different, gentlemen, sweet, romantic and very caring… I know they exist, but finding them would be finding a needle in this vast desert"
"Precisely" Heaven agreed
" but I know one day my prince will come, he won't be like our fathers nor blain, he'll be pure gentle man, out of this world" Rasha said as she stared out in the blue sky while heaven only shook her head at her friend's imaginations
Maybe one day she'd find one too, her Prince Charming. He'd me nothing like the men she met her entire lives… he'd me different
Soon, They finally reached the well , an old stone mouth in the ground, with only the whisper of wind and the distant cry of hawks overhead. There was no one else in sight.
Heaven picked up the bucket tied to the rope and dropped it into the well. The rope yanked hard in her hands — the bucket was full, but far too heavy to lift alone.
"Rasha, help."
Together, they pulled, straining under the weight, sweat soaking their backs. They filled Rasha's buckets first — two in total. Then they began on Heaven's.
But the sun was cruel, and their strength faltered.
" Good lord this is heavy" Rasha complained
"Just two more buckets" Heaven gave her hope, if it was hopeless, the more they pulled the heavier it became, but Then came the voice , deep, calm, steady.
"Allow me."
Both girls turned sharply.
A tall man stood nearby, as if summoned by the desert itself. He wore a long, flowing thawb, dark grey trimmed with black, and over it a bisht that billowed faintly in the wind. His face was partially covered by a mask, and his head wrapped in a dark keffiyeh, but strands of curly black hair spilled from beneath it, kissed by sunlight. His build was powerful — broad chest, thick arms, a warrior's stance. And his eyes… piercing brown, framed by lashes far too thick for a man, shadows moving behind them.
Rasha could barely breathe.
"Maiden?" he repeated, reaching his hand out toward Heaven.
She blinked, realizing she had just been staring. Wordlessly, she handed him the bucket and stepped aside.
With effortless strength, he pulled the bucket up, refilled hers one by one, and then, turning slightly away, removed his mask and drank. Heaven didn't see his face. But Rasha did, and she nearly dropped her own bucket.
He was gorgeous.
Jaw carved like a blade, skin the color of rich soil, lips full and cruelly shaped, and a face sculpted with such symmetry she was unsure he was real.
And just to make sure he was, she reached out and poke his hand, heaven looked at her friend in shock ,
how could she be so bold?!!!
She asked herself in utter shock, but the man didn't seem to notice, he just continued drinking.
When he finished, he replaced his mask and turned back to them.
"Thank you," Heaven said softly.
"Grateful," Rasha added, still staring, but saddened that the masterpiece was covered with a piece of clothing again, now only his eye were visible, still beautiful by the way.
The man turned and walked away, but Rasha, she had other plans in mind…
Then she groaned loudly as she lifted her bucket. "Aiiigh… this is heavier than a camel's behind!"
The man paused,then he turned to them.