Novel: At the Persian Bazaar

Chapter Three: The Stilled Moment, the Golden Encounter

1. The Roar of Sand and Dust — Breaking into the Bazaar

“Open the way! Make room!

In the name of Allah, the caravan of Cyrus passes through!”

The gates of the bazaar shook violently.

Cyrus and Shaheen—having crossed the desert by sheer desperation—

burst into the market wrapped in golden clouds of sand.

The camels’ hooves struck the stone pavement like the pounding of an orchestra’s drums.

“We made it…!

Not a second off from old Jarre’s prophecy!”

Shaheen shouted, scanning the bazaar from atop his camel.

Before him, a crowd swollen with feverish anticipation surged and swayed like waves.

2. The Vendors of the Market, and the Beggars’ Prayer

At the very front of the bazaar, Danesh continued shouting at the top of his lungs.

“Look! The blue silk Cyrus has brought!

This is the color worthy of the Princess!”

Beside him, Inaz stacked vivid vegetables and fruits into pyramid-like displays.

Their fresh aroma briefly washed away the market’s dusty air.

At their feet, led by the elder Kabir, the beggars formed a human wall,

securing a path for the Princess’s procession.

“…She’s coming. The air has changed.

Pray, all of you. A miracle is about to pass.”

Their low murmurs of “Baksheesh…”

rolled through the depths of the market like distant thunder.

3. The Moment “When the Clock Hands Stop”

Then—it happened.

The massive clock overlooking the market square ticked its final second

and came to a complete halt.

The wind died.

Merchants’ shouts vanished.

Even the flute of Shahab the serpent charmer was swallowed by an eerie silence.

From deep within the bazaar, something emerged—

a blue palanquin, cutting through the golden air like a blade.

Drawn slowly by horses, its window revealed Princess Nilfar,

quietly gazing upon the world outside.

Her painted gaze crossed that of the market vendors—

and then met the eyes of Cyrus, who had arrived only moments before.

“…So that is the Lotus Princess…”

Cyrus held his breath.

The fierce heart of a desert-hardened warrior

turned, in that instant, into a mirror-like pool of still water.

“Hosein, raise your shield!

Do not let a single grain of sand touch the Princess!”

The guard Hosein’s shamshir flashed silver, reflecting the sun.

Behind him stood Lady Irem, consort of the tribal lord,

wearing a smile of arrogant beauty, with the handmaiden Inji at her side.

4. The Convergence of Fate

At that very moment, from the opposite side of the market,

the procession of King Reza approached—

the monarch clad in golden armor.

Cyrus’s caravan.

Kabir’s beggars.

Jarre’s prophecy.

Nilfar’s palanquin.

And King Reza himself.

Like pieces of a grand puzzle clicking into place,

every cast member gathered at a single point

in the center of the market square.

The clock of the bazaar remained frozen.

Yet the hearts of the people

were pounding harder than they ever had before.