It was an easy task to find the house of Aayan's sister, thanks to Fabian's familiarity with the place. The dwelling, though modest, was of stone small by the measure of the city, yet considerably larger than the humble hut Aayan called home.
As they approached, they found an elderly woman tending a small garden beside her doorway. Her face brightened the instant she recognized the round figure of Fabian, and her eyes grew even wider at the sight of A-in and the two other men.
"Fabian! It has been such a long time. And you bring new companions, I see. But who is this young boy and why in Ra's name is his hair cut so?" The old woman's tongue was swift, her curiosity boundless.
All eyes turned toward A-in.
He met their stares with an impassive expression, though inwardly he ached with grief. His hair remained long, yet where it once fell to his waist, it now, still long, but scarcely brushed his shoulders. The uneven edges bore the harshness of a forced, merciless cut, confirmation to Aayan's merciless gashing.
He had fought desperately to defend his hair, but the stubborn old man had threatened to cast him out of the group. In defeat he had wrapped the severed strands in linen, intending to keep them only to watch Aayan burn them without remorse.
That old man, though generous, but was utterly cruel.
"You have no right to question my hair, grandmother." A-in muttered at last.
Fabian immediately turned on him with a sharp glare. "This boy—! Forgive him, Aunt Farah. I shall lecture him on our return." He apologized.
"It is quite all right." Farah replied, waving her hand to dismiss the matter. "Think nothing of it. Now then, did you bring the rice?"
"Yes, Aunt Farah." Fabian replied. "Your brother sent ten sacks, and he asks whether they will suffice for two months."
"Oh my, that is far more than enough. Bring them inside, will you?"
"Of course, Aunt Farah."
A-in and the others unloaded the sacks from the cart and carried them to the place Farah indicated, taking turns until all were set in order.
"Thank you, boys." She said warmly. "I have the vegetables prepared as well. There are nine sacks in total, five are for my brother, and one for each of you."
Their faces shone with delight.
"Is that truly for us, Aunt Farah?"
"Truly?"
"May we really take them?"
"Yes." She laughed. "It is my token of gratitude. Now come in, we shall take lunch together."
They could not bring themselves to refuse, for she was already opening her door. They followed her indoors, shy and humbled, scarcely able to lift their eyes. A-in wondered if such kindness was common, for most people he had known possessed sharp tongues and cold hearts.
When night had fallen and dinner was done, they prepared to depart for Memphis, none of them wishing to overstay. They loaded their sacks onto their carts once more.
"Thank you for the meal, Aunt Farah." Said Fabian. "We are so full we have strength enough to walk through the night without rest."
"That is good to hear, Fabian." she replied, pleased. Her gaze drifted toward A-in, who stood quietly beside Fabian. His head hung low, his eyes avoided hers, and the tips of his ears were red. "Is there anything you wish to say, child?" She asked gently.
"I only wish to say… thank you." He murmured then moved quietly to his cart and began to push it.
Soon after, they bade their final farewell to Farah and departed.
As they journeyed, the sun sank beneath the horizon, and the cold breeze ushered in the dusk. The bustling streets slowly emptied, until no passerby remained. A-in glanced at the sack of vegetables Farah had given him. With such abundance, he doubted he could consume it all before spoilage claimed the rest. Should he share with the other homeless?
His thoughts were interrupted when he noticed Fabian and the others halt. He lifted his gaze, tilting his head to see what lay ahead. The moon showed its presence and shone through drifting clouds, cast enough light for A-in to see the figures before them.
Seven men stood in the road blocking the path. Their eyes were fixed upon the carts, hunger and malice written plainly upon their faces. Some held weapons.
"Well now…" One of them said, stepping forward with a crooked grin. "Fine crops you have there. Let us discuss a peaceful negotiation."