Shadow on the Wall: Superhero | Magical Realism Novels (The SandStorm Chronicles | Magical Realism Books Book 1) by P.K. Tyler Page B

and move away from the open door that offered him freedom. As his eyes adjusted, his anger returned. The silhouetted form before him was outlined with florescent light.
    "You locked me in here, you kidnapped me," he seethed, crouching down in preparation to attack.
    "No, Son, I protected you."
    The familiar voice washed over him. Son . No one had called him that in a very long time. The name soothed him somewhat, and piqued his curiosity.
    "How do you know me?"
    His voice shook as he held back his instinct to burst out into the light beyond his warden.
    "You knew me once. You knew my daughter…"
    The husky voice drifted off, leaving Recai feeling alone and cold. As Recai took a step forward the man retreated into the main room, allowing the light to illuminate his wizened face and tired eyes.
      "You knew Rebekah…"
    Recai's gut wrenched as if he had been hit. His eyes watered—the image of her calling him to heaven, then leaving him earthbound and alone returned. His emotions fought for voice, but there were none which could convey his shock as the accent of the man before him suddenly made perfect sense.
    "Hasad?"
    Recai reached out and stepped toward the old man as if seeing a ghost.
    "How…?"
    The pain in his gut twisted its way through Recai, wringing every drop of misery out of him, spilling it on the floor, leaving him to wade in its sea.
    "Son, are you all right?"
    Hasad's gruff exterior fell away as he took in the broken young man before him.
    Recai's eyes filled with water again as he fell on his knees before the old man. His life had been saved so many years before, only to be the cause of Rebekah's death. There was nothing about him that was worth saving. He failed time and again, never able to do or be enough. But he ached for the understanding of the only soul who knew the pain he suffered. He wept for the first time in a long time since Rebekah's death. Hasad placed forgiving hand on his shoulder.
    "Hasad, I'm so sorry. I should have… I should have protected her. I shouldn't have lived when she didn't." Recai's voice cracked as the tears streamed down his face, cleaning a path through his bloody features. "I could have—"
    "There's nothing anyone could have done."
    Hasad did not embrace Recai, nor did he move away. He simply stood, accepting the other's tears with a strength he didn't possess, but which Recai needed.
    "I don't know why I lived. I never wanted to. I failed her in this life, I would have been happy to follow her into the next."
    "Recai," Hasad began, pulling Recai's attention up out of his misery. "I pulled you from that fire. There's a reason you lived. There's a reason you're here. Stand up."
    Hasad waited patiently as Recai stood and once again took in the old man before him. Hasad hadn't changed much since Recai last saw him in Çayustu. The lines in his face were deeper and his skin looser, but wild intelligence still shone from his eyes.
    Those eyes bore into Recai as he asked, "Now, where have you been?"
     

     
    Darya sat in front of her vanity with a soft smile on her face. The celebration for her uncle had ended unexpectedly, and while she was frustrated with Recai's rejection, she didn't take it to heart.
    Her long hair hung down her back over her silk nightgown as she poured a small amount of oil into her hands. She rubbed them together filling the room with the earthy scent of sandalwood, transforming the heat from oppressive to languid.
    It had been three days since the kum firtinasi, and the sand was still settling into the cracks of the streets. Another week would pass before the reddish tint would be gone and life would return to normal. Until then she would stay in her apartment, thankful for the luxury of technology that allowed her to continue her work running the empire that funded her uncle's government.
    She never knew where his funds came from and never asked; she simply invested and managed them, increasing his wealth exponentially. All the while she siphoned off