Been silently reading your short stories and I'm awed all the time. Pls update this particular piece.
You are good believe that!

A moment of silence passed; short, yet intense enough for me to hear sound that came in from the open door. It took me a moment to notice that Mr. Ahmed had stopped short and was staring at the open cabinet, mouth agape. Apparently, he wasn’t expecting it to be open. Or empty.

“I….I…I. …it was…..I…” he turned around to face me, his face a mask of unpleasant surprise. “It was right here just now…..it was…”

He turned back to the cabinet. Then back to me. Then back to the cabinet and in two swift step covered the distance separating him from it, crouching almost as he walked. He peered into the rather small cabinet. Then swung the door shut. Then pulled it open. It was still empty.

“There is no way…”

“Are you sure you didn’t put it elsewhere,” I asked.

“Elsewhere?” he squealed. “I couldn’t move the thing! That was why I came to fetch you, because I thought you might understand why it couldn’t be moved. And I clearly remember locking the cabinet before coming in search of you.”

“Does anyone else know the combination for the cabinet’s lock?” I asked, approaching.

“No.” He answered, lines of worry appearing on his forehead. “It is my personal safe. Nobody else has access to it, not even members of my family. It should not be open and the carving should not be missing!”

“Is anything else missing?” I asked. He got up from his squatting position and looked around him, before shaking his head slowly.

“Everything else looks exactly the way it was when I came in search of you. Of course, I would have to do a search to be sure but everything looks to be in place.” He scratched his head. “In all my time as curator of this museum, nothing has ever gone missing from this office!”

I considered that statement. So the first item to go missing from his office was a miniature of the Ainkhut. And only after the Ainkhut had gone missing. Was someone trying to remove all traces of the Ainkhut from the museum? Or….

The thought stuck in my head as the hair at the back of my neck began to bristle and a feeling of morbid fear began to well up in me. Something was wrong. I could feel a thudding at the back of my head and my heart began to race.

“Benneth.”

I was staring into the eyes of a stone statue.

I stepped back, stunned. Just a moment ago, I was looking into an empty cabinet in the curator’s office. But now….I was in what first appeared to be a large square room. All around me were doric columns, and I observed that each was at an equal distance from the other, all around me and so many, I couldn’t tell if there were walls at the end of them. All I could see was that they stretched into the darkness. I stood in a small square clearing at the center of this forest of columns devoid of anything else but the statue that now stood before me and a solitary torch with a bright flame firmly planted into the white stone floor. The flame cast long shadows that stretched into and merged with the darkness of the columns, giving the place a sinister tone. I shuddered.

“Benneth.”

This time, the voice had a direction to it and I turned. From the shadows, I first saw a bare foot. Then another. Then a woman robed in white emerged from among the stone columns. She had long flowing dark hair that stretched all the way down to her knees and was left to roam free, wild, down the side of her face and behind her, cascading down her skin that was so pale it was almost transparent. It was eerie and yet oddly beautiful. I couldn’t help noticing her eyes; dark with astonishingly white pupils. She walked towards me, staring deep into my eyes without blinking. The feeling of dread within rose to a crescendo then crashed to nothing. I felt no fear anymore. Which was odd, considering I still did not understand what was happening.

“Benneth.”

My eyes hadn’t left hers. Yet I saw her lips speaks my name. The movement of the lips didn’t form my name but I had heard it clearly. It looked more like she was mouthing what I supposed was "Rahom".

“You are wondering why you are here. And how.”

I swallowed, my throat dry and quite unable to answer.

“I have the answers to your questions. But I will not tell you because you will find out. Shortly.”

I still couldn’t speak. By this time, she was standing almost right in front of me and I felt sandwiched, between her and the statue behind me. It was only at this point that it struck me….the statue WAS her. Or her likeness, at any rate. I wanted to turn around to be sure but her gaze held me, almost magnetically and I found that I physically could not move.

“You are the Guardian Of The Wind. The wind goes where you go, and where you go it goes.”

I blinked. What was she talking about?

“The conclave of stone has your answers but you are not yet worthy to stand in it.”

I wanted to shake my head or pinch myself. Was I dreaming? Who was this woman? And how did I get here? My mind was a whirl. Of all the things that had happened to me since I left my hotel room this morning, this was by far the strangest. Or wait: was I still in the hotel room, dreaming all this up? Or was I really here in this place, with this woman?

And what was Rahom?

Or who?

I think I owe an apology to those who have been following this series since I started it. I have had to take a looong break from writing it because I had other things to handle (aand I still do!) but i will be updating it a bit more regularly from here on. Also, I would like to use this medium to let you guys know that i will be moving my blog from thegiddywriter. to senbon.zakuraweekly.com. The new blog is not live yet but will be from tuesday so that's where The Nightlies and the new series I would be starting (still hush hush; lemme not spoil the surprise!) will go. So once again, my apologies! Once the new blog is live, you guys will be the first to know. Thanks for reading!

Waow!
Nice 1.
Thumbs up.
Okway then.

adebayo201: Waow!
Nice 1.
Thumbs up.
Okway then.

thanks!!!

and I almost gave up. Good to have you back chief.

I admire your powerful and overactive imagination monsieur sebon.

Hi Zakura, why not make the two stories inside one thread? Instead of the readers shuffling between threads you can just put a caption of the particular character you want to focus on before you start. Think about it. . .

Mr Troll: Hi Zakura, why not make the two stories inside one thread? Instead of the readers shuffling between threads you can just put a caption of the particular character you want to focus on before you start. Think about it. . .

what ate you doing here?

Chibuebem: what ate you doing here?

He's a lover of the literary arts

Chibuebem: what ate you doing here?

Ishilove:
He's a lover of the literary arts

Are you my P.A?

Mr Troll:

smh.

Mr Troll:
Are you my P.A?

Ask google

Ishilove:
Ask google

I did.

Mr Troll: Hi Zakura, why not make the two stories inside one thread? Instead of the readers shuffling between threads you can just put a caption of the particular character you want to focus on before you start. Think about it. . .

I did consider doing it that way but I didn't want a stuation where there would be confusion when someone just skips whose part s which and then gets confused when the story doesn't quite follow from where they thought they left off. Besides, I wanted both stories to be separate but interlinked.

Ok. Your call.