"We'll find The Otboa in here?" I asked Gre'ce. The Caliph's treasury, we were in. A vault so compact with wealth that it was hard to breathe. It all belonged to the ruler of this soon to perish city. I hadn't met him in person before today, but the stories did their job of enticing the imagination. Al-Musta he was called, a man so powerful stars galloped before him. So impossibly rich, that the entire city of Baghdad could be paved in a sheet of gold before a fortnight at his command, and so wise that not even demons could disturb his presence.
"How do you know we'll find it in here?" I asked again, with him ignoring me the first time.
"I was gathering data while you were busy making friends with the locals, not that theres anything wrong with that. A young soul like yours needs that kind of interaction." He was leading us to a strange noise within the vault, similar to me shoving expired laundry under the bed before she comes over. We may as well have been standing on liquid gold, or what seemed like a near infinite amount of ancient currency archaeologists couldn't even dream of obtaining, along with a plethora of ancient artefacts, Garments, crowns, jewels... You name it, he had it, but at what cost? Regardless, what we were seeking held value orders of magnitude above this sea of greed. The OTBOA it was called. An acronym for an ancient manuscript carved out of the toughest leather, inscribed with the blackest of inks, and crafted from the most eloquent hands of old. I'm not sure what 'they' wanted it for back in the present, but it was in our contract to collect it, and thats what we were going to do, especially now that we let Genghis Khan's soul escape.
"I don't understand. If the Caliph's so powerful where was he during the battle? Or now rather? His people are being slaughtered in real time, and he's no place to be seen-" I paused.
What registered before my eyes was he who I had just been referring to, and it all started to make sense to me very quickly.
"Tell me what you see child." Said Gre'ce.
Before me kneeled Al-Musta, the Caliph of Baghdad. A man so powerful he could vanish without a trace whilst his women and children are fed to the enemies' swords. So unfathomably wealthy that he could drown in pit of gold if he felt suicidal, whilst his men struggled to eat during war. And most of all, so intellectually wise that he could fool an entire nation of innocent souls, into thinking he gave a solitary fuck about what happened to them... Into thinking he held a drop of virtue in his blood. The vault door blasted open, Gre'ce and I channelled our Yura , and standing there was the devil himself, Hulegu Khan, the King of the world, accompanied by a gang of demons.
"Al-Musta!" He called, sending echoes that boomed in every direction, vibrating the very coins we stood on. I wasnt sure who was speaking, but in the moment it didnt matter whether it was grandfather or son, as the only thing on my mind was the odds of survival. They trotted towards us, and Gre'ce drew his weapon immediately.
"Fools." Said the Khan.
"You ready your weapon for battle, yet the war has already been one?"
No one said a word. I air itself froze in fear, whilst Gre'ce looked him up and down ferociously, ready to kill, flooding his lungs with oxygen, transmuting it into Yura. He was prepared for even the slightest movement from the enemy, but Hulegu wasn't here for us.
"Caliph, show yourself." He commanded, and every blockade vanished, leaving an open line of site between us, him, and the ruler of Baghdad.
"Caliph, tell me... why do you hoard so much treasure?"
The air still frozen in fear, he received no answer.
"What did you intend to do with it?"
I locked in, ready for anything.
"Were you not aware that I, grandson of Genghis Khan, more importantly your enemy, was coming against you with an army so large it could erase your nation's very existence? Of course you did, but you still refused. Fuelled by greed, you refused to use your abundant wealth to feed your army in preparation for their demise, and arm your mercenaries with tools akin to the word 'futile'. Dear Caliph, since I can see how dearly you value your material possessions, I will excuse you from my Wrath."
Almost immediately, a pathetic expression of hope emerged on Al-Musta's face, wiping the pool of sweat away from his corrupt skull.
"Now Caliph, I will grant your deepest wish. You have my word that you may remain here unharmed from my army. Eat your fill of gold to your hearts content. Enjoy it as if it were food from the heavens, because you will never eat or drink anything else again. If you try to escape I will have you buried alive, not in the ground, but deep within this pool of greed you call love."
Hulegu vanished, reappearing directly in front of Al Musta.
"Do my words register with that shameless spark you call your soul, Caliph?" Up close Hulegu resembled the Khoisan tribe, south of the continent. But upon further inspection, he was more akin to those from the planet far East.
"Men, seal the chamber shut. His friends can rot alongside him." Hulegu ordered, and that was the last we would ever see of him.
Voices rushed through my head, one being of an Angel, trying its best to convince me that Al-Musta had some good reason to let this happen. The other, a Jin, revealing to me the darkest parts of human nature that not even the most powerful could overcome. The 7 souls hanging from my neck didn't budge, but I couldnt help but wonder what they would do in this situation.
"Remember the mission child." Said Gre'ce, like a hand of comfort upon my shoulder, bringing order to my racing mind.
"Retrieve The Otboa from him. I'll be close by, looking for anything worth bringing back to the present."
"Sure, right, okay." I mustered.
"Al-Musta, your name was? I can't tell you who we really are, but we're here for The Otboa. As stated, you're not getting out of this place, so you may as well hand it over..."
"Never." He said, silencing me with confidence. I always struggled with asking, but maybe it was time for me to just start taking. I'm grown now, no longer a boy, but I still felt like it deep down.
Gre'ce brushed past me.
"The Otboa. You will show me where it is." He demanded, preparing a horror movie. He grabbed Al-Musta by the nostrils, raising him up off of the ground via 2 fingers forced inside of each naval cavity, before activating his Yaura. Both of their eyes rolled back in symmetry like some sort of conjoined seizure, only to unplug his fingers seconds later, shaking the blood clots off that clung on their way out.
"Should've listened the first time." I slipped in.
"I envy your ignorance only because it keeps your peasantry from weight of the truth." Uttered Al-Musta, swiping away the blood that poured from his nose.
"You stare, pondering what riches can do for a man? I chase gold not to feed the poor, but as a means to bend reality. When I desire silence, the very birds forget their tune. When feeling gluttonous, cows leap upon my plate, seasoned. Many times a mere scoop of this room, has had the finest Kafir women, travel countries to eat from my flesh."
"And you think happiness is waiting for you on the other side of this?" I questioned, disgusted.
"From my father's death I have never known the word 'wait'. Ocean's sing for me for simply existing. You ask me what I think about happiness. What is happiness when tomorrow I can decide that cattle are more valuable than teachers? Only Life and Death exist, with everything in between being a game of powerful VS non powerful. You think this is the end? My allies will come and save me, and along with them they will be peasants begging to clean my boots, all for a mere gold coin. Kafir Women, begging to replace my sewer system with their tongues. Wealth, is Law."
He was beyond saving, it was all he knew. He left me with only one question left.
"Sigh. Tell me Caliph... Do you believe in Go-"
Immediately I broke out into a frenzy.
"Mine! Mine! Mine!" I reaped, grabbing at everything in front of me, filling pockets that didn't exist with coins that shouldn't exist back in the present. Al-Musta jumped back, unsurprisingly frightened.
Gre'ce rushed to the scene. "Hesael!" He chanted, wiping away curse took over me.
"What the hell was that?" He demanded.
"I- I dont know." I replied.
"
In that same moment, someones Yura pierced the vault, turning the entire chamber completely black. It was a new comer, someone who had just arrived In Baghdad.
"In return of gold, my allies have come to save me, as I said. After Negudar solves the Hulegu problem, I'll have him make suits out of your skin."
Gre'ce was hearing none of that, and having retrieved The Otboa, it was time to leave.
"We're going." He commanded.
"Where?" I panicked, not able see even my own hands.
"Back to New Nubia." He responded, before drawing a dodgy circle with his blood. I was never a fan of magic, but it was a requirement to get back home. Assuming the position, we both stood over it, and although I was unfathomably glad to leave, my childish mind had one more thing to say.
"Musta, wherever you are. If you get to Jannah and you don't see me there. Then, you have arrived in Jahannam." I regretted those words, as they reeked of spiritual pride, but it just felt right in the moment. I say in the moment, because although none of this mattered back in the present, those words would come to bite me back one day.
*Blink* We were gone.