Guests, And Yet... (The Final Chapter)

Cover Art: Guests, And Yet... (The Final Chapter) — Sulaiman trapped in the abyss of the well, surrounded by the ominous hosts of the subterranean realm.

 

The Bottom of the Well

Sulaiman walked right in the middle of the procession, surrounded on all sides by silent guards. The soft sand swallowed their footsteps, as if the desert itself was in on this grim parade, erasing every trace connecting him to the upper world. Not a soul dared to speak; silence here felt less like peace and more like a heavy curse.

Sulaiman turned to the leader, his voice tight with fear and hesitation: "My family's livestock... don't let the camels and sheep scatter into nothingness."

The leader didn't even turn his head. He replied in a tone as dry as the desert wind: "Rest easy. The camels know their way home, and the sheep will follow. Forget the livestock for now—we have no use for your sheep or camels. It’s you we want."

The other three exchanged quiet, knowing looks. In the dead of night, a faint, sinister smirk crept onto their faces—a smile not meant for Sulaiman, but for a dark secret only they shared.

The group came to a halt at the edge of an abandoned well. Its stone lining was cracked and weathered, worn by the passage of centuries. There was no rope, no bucket—nothing to suggest a human hand had touched it in generations. The wind whistled through its deep hollow, sounding like the faint moans of the dying.

Sulaiman took a step back, staring nervously into the pit: "A well? This place has been dry and forgotten since the days of our ancestors. What are we doing here?"

The guest replied with cold authority: "Get in."

Before he could react, two of them grabbed his arms, and together they plummeted into the dark abyss. They fell slowly, unnaturally—as though gravity itself had let go of them.

The Valley of the Smiling Serpents

Their feet finally touched solid ground. Down at the bottom, there was no mud or water—only a narrow rocky fissure that widened as they moved deeper, eventually opening up into a massive underground cavern. A pale blue light spilled across the stone walls, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Suddenly, strange shapes began slithering out from the cracks in the rock.

They had long, snake-like bodies, but their heads were nothing like earthly reptiles. They were flat and triangular, with a single eye centered in each face, glowing with the dull yellow ember of a dying fire. They crept forward slowly, their narrow mouths opening to let out a continuous, sharp hiss that rattled the cavern walls—a sound like dozens of vipers rustling through dry grass together.

Worse still, the corners of their mouths were stretched into unnatural human smiles! Fixed, eerie smiles that widened as they drew closer, as if they had known him forever, or had been waiting for his arrival for ages.

Instinctively, Sulaiman gripped the handle of the dagger tucked into his belt, his whole body trembling. The creatures continued to circle him, twisting, hissing, and smiling.

The chief guest stepped forward, his deep voice echoing off the cavern walls: "Do not be afraid. These are our children, and they are thrilled to meet you. They are your companions today. If you wish, we can turn them into sweet-singing birds for you... just say the word."

Sulaiman stood frozen, speechless.

The guest continued: "From this moment on, you are the master here. Our people will come to greet you and name you our honored lord, so carry yourself well."

Taking a deep breath, Sulaiman gathered his courage and said firmly: "I want no kingdom, nor do I want your lands. I only wish to return to my family and my livestock, may God bless you."

The guest replied with unsettling calm: "We are your family now... and your livestock will return home safely."

He nodded toward the largest serpent. The cavern floor shuddered slightly. The sharp hissing stopped, replaced by the sickening sound of cracking bones and sprouting feathers! Within seconds, a herd of camels and sheep stood where the creatures had been—an exact mirror image of the livestock Sulaiman had left behind above ground.

Sulaiman backed away, trying to catch his breath, while the single-eyed creatures kept watching him, their human smiles never fading.

A Ghostly Return

A full week after Sulaiman vanished, his camels wandered back to his tribe's camp on their own. They walked with slow, hesitant steps, their eyes wild and terrified, as if they had looked death in the face.

A young shepherd spotted them and ran out, shouting: "It's Sulaiman's herd! Hey everyone, Sulaiman's camels are back! But where is he?!"

An elderly woman inspected the sheep, her voice trembling with concern: "Some of the flock is missing... look at these marks! Claws and bite wounds on their backs! It must have been the desert wolves."

Another man added: "Or maybe a desert panther ambushed him in the dark."

The men of the tribe rushed to Sulaiman's tent. They found it completely empty. The fire pit was cold, filled with ashes that had settled days ago. There were no footprints, no bloodstains, no signs of a struggle... it was as if the earth had simply opened up and swallowed him whole.

The Escape Secret & The Old Woman

Deep inside the dark cavern, Sulaiman sat leaning against a cold rock, trying to figure out a way out of this trap. Out of the shadows, a strange old woman shuffled toward him. She was terrifying to look at—no taller than two feet, with her arms fused directly to her head instead of her shoulders.

She stopped near him and asked in a raspy, tired voice: "What troubles you, Sulaiman?"

Sulaiman stared at her in disbelief as she kept talking: "The ones who brought you down here to our realm are my children. They're still young—barely 400 years old—and they acted foolishly by dragging you to our cave. As for me, I am ancient. My time is near; I am nearly 4,500 years old now. I ask you to forgive them, and I will help you leave. You've been here for nearly five months, and it is time you went home."

Sulaiman listened to the grotesque old creature, bewildered and skeptical. He asked nervously: "Where were you all these months while I was kept prisoner here?"

She answered: "I was away visiting my first husband, attending my son's wedding. He married the daughter of my brother Khurmuz, who is 1,500 years older than me."

Clinging to any shred of hope, Sulaiman asked: "How can I escape this place and get back to my people, old mother?"

She leaned in: "I will give you a secret, but you must swear not to tell a soul."

Sulaiman urged her: "Tell me, quickly!"

The old woman warned: "Patience, Sulaiman. Can you pluck one thousand hairs from your head?"

Surprised, he replied: "I can try, but how do I keep count?"

She shrugged: "That is for you to figure out." Then she added sternly: "When you pull them out, count them carefully. Make sure the count is exact. Once you are sure, place them inside this small vial."

She reached out and handed him a small turquoise vial, along with a deep green clay dish.

Sulaiman took them and asked: "And then what?"

She instructed: "When my people gather around you, empty the hair into the dish and set it on fire. The moment they smell the burning hair, they will become drowsy and fall fast asleep. It is a known weakness of our kind—the scent of burning hair knocks us out for two full days. That will give you more than enough time to walk out safely. Forgive my children... I will watch over them from now on, until they grow up and gain some sense. It will only take another 600 years or so."

Sulaiman asked cautiously: "Won't they see me pulling out the vial and lighting the fire?"

She reassured him: "Do not worry. This dish and vial are invisible to them because of their special colors."

Sulaiman muttered: "I hope you are telling the truth..."

She replied calmly: "I do not lie." Before slipping back into the dark, she turned to him one last time: "They see you as a beautiful creature that brings joy to their hearts. Make sure you don't mess up the count—if you miss even one hair, you'll be stuck down here for years, and my people won't be so kind to you next time."

Sulaiman nodded: "Don't worry."

Following her advice, Sulaiman began the agonizing task of plucking a thousand hairs from his head, counting each one meticulously so he wouldn't make a single mistake.

Once he had all thousand hairs safely sealed in the turquoise vial, he waited for evening. He asked his assigned guard to call the tribe together. In moments, the creatures crowded into the cavern around him, asking: "What do you need, master?"

As they spoke, Sulaiman discreetly brought out the invisible green dish, poured the hair into it, and struck a light. Within seconds, the sharp smell of burnt hair filled the underground chamber. The creatures' heavy eyelids began to droop, and one by one, they collapsed into a deep, unbroken sleep.

Relieved that the old woman had kept her word, Sulaiman began his grueling climb up the rough stone walls of the well. He scrambled upward all night, using every ounce of strength he had left, until he finally burst through the opening just as the first light of dawn washed over the desert.

He ran across the sand as fast as his legs could carry him, never looking back, knowing he had two full days before the creatures would wake.

The Return to the Camp

Sulaiman kept walking until the familiar tents of his tribe appeared on the horizon. The shepherds spotted him from afar and ran toward the camp, shouting at the top of their lungs: "Sulaiman is back! Sulaiman is alive!"

His family and kin poured out of their tents, weeping and embracing him. They hosted grand feasts and gatherings to celebrate his safe return. From that day on, Sulaiman swore he would never herd his livestock alone in the wilderness again.

Whenever people pressed him about where he had been for those five long months, Sulaiman only shared the true story with his mother and father, knowing anyone else would brush it off as madness. To the rest of the tribe, he offered a clever cover story:

"My camels panicked and ran off while I was asleep. When I woke up, a sudden sandstorm blinded me, and I lost my way in the dust. A passing merchant caravan captured me and forced me to work for them, until I finally managed to escape and make my way back to you."

(The End)