Hussein was bored, unable to find any of his siblings within the Palace. He walked around for quite some time, before deciding to do what he often did: find his mother and see if she could entertain him for a while. On his way to his parents' room, two guards walked past him. They were talking to each other and looked confused, their faces red with embarrassment.
Hussein took a few steps onward before realising something wasn't right. "Excuse me, guards," he said politely. "Aren't you supposed to be guarding my mother and father's room?"
The guards looked at one another as one urged his partner to answer. "You make a good observation, Master Hussein. But it was your father who ordered us to leave the post and take the rest of the day off. We're not entirely sure why, but of course we were never going to question him."
The other guard snapped his fingers, his face brightening up as he remembered something he knew was important. "Wait. Didn't Esah just enter the room before the King told us to leave? I can't be sure if that's the reason, but it's the only thing I can think of. Esah didn't seem particularly happy; nor did the King, in fact."
"Okay, thanks for telling me." Hussein cheerfully smiled at the guards as he walked off. But the moment he turned, his face dropped and was replaced by a troubled expression. And the moment he turned the corner, he began running, keeping in mind that he should approach his destination carefully.
He tip-toed toward the door which he found slightly open, and could hear his father and Esah at each other's throats once again. Leaning closer to the door, but making sure he didn't fall into the sight of any who were in the room, he listened carefully, every threatening word or raising of the voice causing him to blink harshly and shake his head in fear.
Though he struggled to listen to their back and forth, his curiosity overpowered his discomfort.
"Pssstt. Hussein," three voices whispered behind him.
Then only one spoke. "What are you doing, Huss? What's going on in there?"
The triplets had snuck up on Hussein as he frantically turned around and appeared overly distressed. He stuck out his arms to the side, desperately trying to usher the triplets away from the scene. "Ummm…nothing. Don't worry about it. You should go to your room. It's best that you are not here right now."
Unlike every other time before, the triplets refused to back down, now even offended that Hussein had told them to go away. It was becoming obvious to them that they had been shunned from so much for so long.
Karim stepped forward and lowered one of Hussein's arms, giving him a menacing glance. "We aren't buying that this time. We are staying. We want to hear whatever the hell you're listening to."
Amin grabbed Hussein's other arm. "Don't even think about trying to stop us. We'll make sure he knows we are all here if you do."
"Fine," Hussein said with a glum face as he stared at the floor, feeling helpless.
And so they all pressed their ears against the door, listening intently.
"Is that Esah's voice? I think I hear Esah," Karim announced.
Within the room stood Ibraheem, the Queen, and Esah. While Ibraheem and Esah were at separate ends of the room, the Queen sat in the middle on a chair, overwhelmed by what she was stuck in the middle of. Ibraheem's face bore the same old angry glare, while Esah's was ignited by an infuriated temper.
"Are you going to tell me? Or am I going to have to claw it out of you?" roared Esah.
"There is nothing to claw out of me, my dear son. We are wasting time by having this conversation," Ibraheem returned coldly, turning his back to Esah.
The Queen appeared unsettled, closing her eyes hoping it would all end soon. Esah, on the other hand, took offence to Ibraheem's actions, shouting even louder this time. "Don't give me that. You're hiding something that I want—that I need to know the answer to…" Esah pointed at his mother, though Ibraheem couldn't see this. "...That she wants to know. All of us are asking the same question. How has someone like him come to exist?"
Ibraheem gave a blunt answer, angering Esah all the more. "I don't know."
"Tell me! He almost killed me. Ali's children. My wife! All because I had no idea there was someone out there like us." He took a deep breath, and continued, "And I couldn't understand how…or why. But then I realised, every question I asked myself led to you. It has to, it's the only possibility."
Ibraheem scalded, hoping Esah would end his barrage sooner than later. "And why should I offer you my knowledge if I do have the answers? What makes you, my runaway son, deserving of anything. You are lucky I even allow you to stand in this room with me. That I have given you the hospitality of this Palace."
"You never change, do you?"
Hearing this, the triplets began to ask questions of their own.
"Who is Esah talking about? What does he mean that someone almost killed him?"
"Is that even possible? Someone like us? Are they speaking literally, or…?"
Ibraheem cunningly used this as an opportunity to divert the conversation in a way which favoured him. "Do you enjoy it over there? Living amongst the impoverished. Does it satisfy your uneasy mind?"
Suddenly, the Queen removed her face which was buried in her hands. She now seemed calm and unfazed, staring forwards, making it hard to tell if she was paying attention.
Falling for Ibraheem's bait, Esah defended himself, hoping to slander his father at the same time. "Anything is better than being here. I can assure you that. This may be your heaven, but it is my hell, and you're its dev—"
The Queen, Esah's mother, shot up, still glaring blankly forwards. "How dare you, Esah! Do not speak to your father like that!"
Ibraheem turned, setting his eyes on Esah and grinned, raising his left hand to indicate to his wife that she should sit back in her seat. "It is fine, dear. Do not worry, his words bear no weight. Whatever he says won't affect me. It can't. His cry has satisfied me enough that nothing he accuses me of will change the thrill I'm feeling right now."
Unable to quite gauge what Ibraheem was saying, Esah twitched. "Stop talking in riddles, old man. What do you mean by that?"
"Don't you see, Esah, this is your home. Your place of security. Where your livelihood truly rests."
Esah shook his head, approaching Ibraheem as he spoke. "That's where you're wrong. I feel nothing but disgust when I walk amongst these floors. I am only here because I came to warn you of the threat that looms. But you don't seem to care. I'm starting to question if you really don't care, or you have simply blinded yourself by some idiotic delusion that we aren't in danger. To be honest, I'm not sure which I'd prefer."
Ibraheem grumbled, clearly hurt by Esah's words. But at this moment, he couldn't let that show. Instead, he laughed, staring at his wife as he retaliated. "Oh, is that so? Is that how you really feel? What you think of me?"
For the first time, Esah sounded nervous to speak his mind. He stopped walking toward Ibraheem and looked to the side. "Yes. For a very long time. I've been meaning to tell you—"
Another obnoxious laugh halted Esah trying to open up to his father. "It's laughable, isn't it? You…coming back here…desperately pleading for my help."
Tutting in annoyance, Esah frowned, knowing that his father was an awful man, but didn't think even he would stoop so low. "What? Are you really going to go there? I didn't come here for your help."
Licking the top of his teeth, Ibraheem moved toward Esah as he stroked his grey beard. "Even now? Then why are you here? Or, if you want to be honest, why didn't you seek help somewhere else?"
"Where else would I go—"
"No!" Ibraheem came to a ravaging halt as he shouted and pointed at Esah with great vigour. "At the moment of your fate, where did you run? Who did you cry to for help? Without me! Without everything that I have given you…you would be nothing…you would be…no more!"