A 1001 Nights Continuation

In my English class, we read 1001 Nights and were prompted to write how we imagined the rest of the story would continue.

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Here is how I imagined nights 19 to 21.

THE FISHERMAN AND THE WARRIOR

THE NINETEENTH NIGHT

The following night, Dinarzad was eager to hear the rest of the story as she said to her sister, “Sister, if you are not sleepy, please continue the tale about the fisherman and the colored fish.”

Scheherazade replied, “With the greatest pleasure.”

I heard, O King, that when the Fisherman gracefully offered the marvelous fish to the King, the King looked at them inquisitively. Kissing the ground before him, the fisherman’s palms perspired as he nobly awaited the King’s careful analysis, and only when the words, “Oh by Allah!” echoed in the room, did he push himself off the ground to greet the fascinated King with a bow. You see, Your Majesty, the King recognized that these fish were enchanted fish due to the vibrant hues of white, red, blue, and yellow on their armor. When he looked to the Fisherman, he began to recite the following verse. His voice resonated through the hall:

And Jonah was indeed one of the messengers

Remember when he fled to the overloaded ship.

Then to save it from sinking, he drew straws with other passengers.

He lost and was thrown overboard.

Then the fish engulfed him while he was blameworthy.

Had he not constantly glorified Allah.

He would have certainly remained in its belly until the Day of Resurrection.

The king then smiled, saying, “These fish, like the one in the story of the Prophet, are not for the larders, but for the eyes to behold. Their colors are a divine prodigy by the Almighty.” Then, with a distinct movement of his left hand, the fish were whisked away by the Vizier, and placed into a royal pool.

The King rose before the fisherman and the deepness of his voice contrasted with his contented words, “You, fisherman, have my deepest gratitude, for you, by Allah, have endowed me with a marvelous creation both for the mind and soul. I hereby declare you the Royal Keeper of the Enchanted Waters.”

The fisherman kissed the floor before the king. “It is my pleasure, Your Majesty,” replied the fisherman bowing lower and he intoned, “if permitted by your graciousness, more wonders may be offered for I have fished from a lake abundant with these marvels.” The King’s eyes broadened.

The following day, the fisherman couldn’t hide the curve that invaded his lips. The Enchanted Waters stretched before the palace, and as the fisherman walked from end to end, it was as if he had discovered treasure itself. He described it as a sea of gold. Sparkling reflections like stars encompassed the surface, and beneath it, the enchanted fish glided gracefully like live jewels. Patrolling the Royal Waters, all he could think about was his new title, and how he wished the Demon was there so he could express his excitement with his circumstantial companion.

“Psstt” whispered the wind.

The fisherman raised his gold silken gloves to the sun. He didn’t hear the peculiar noise, but he felt the ray of water, sprayed from aquatic crimson lips that splashed his face. “Oh by Allah!” he jumped.

Below him, a scarlet koi whose lips protruded from the surface idly swam. It whispered, “Come closer!” The fisherman complied cautiously, bringing his ear inches away from the jewel. It spritzed water as it continued, “Fisherman, by God it is that compels me to tell you my story, and if you choose to listen, I can assure you that you will become even more prosperous.” The fisherman leaned closer…

But morning overtook Scheherazade, and she lapsed into silence. Then Dinarzad said, “Sister, what a wonderful story!”

Scheherazade replied, “What is this compared with what I shall tell you tomorrow night; if the King lets me live, of course. It will be even more sublime!”

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THE TWENTIETH NIGHT

The following night, Dinarzad said to her sister, “Sister, if you are not sleepy, please continue the tale of the scarlet fish.”

Scheherazade replied, “With the greatest pleasure.”

The fisherman laid flat, his ear mere inches away from the fish. “Fisherman,” said the koi, “hear now the full tale of the woman whose bravery gave life to these marvelous fish such as me,” it asserted, sending sparkles of droplets amongst the water’s surface as it spoke. “This is the tale of a woman whose courage rivaled kings, whose strength battled war, and whose heart bore the mass of duty. My name is Rania, this is my story.”

You see, O King, the fish began long ago with her brother Idris, who was given the honor to serve the realm in battle. However, his body was weak, he had a severe cough and his limbs were fragile, which could be fatal in battle. To let Idris serve meant losing her brother, to refuse any participation would have been to go against the will of Allah. With this, Rania saw no choice but to take his place. Months in advance, she learned the art of war, studied endlessly the ways of man, and cut her hair short to conceal her true identity: a woman.

The first mission was soon ordered by the King, and despite his noble rank, he rode beside the knights as the horses sprinted towards the border. Rania, now Rahin, wore a gold–plated uniform that clanked with each bolt. The Prince, feet away, was surrounded by demons who entered the capital to steal a royal soul. Before anyone else could react, Rania dismounted the horse, drew her sword and flew towards the four demons; beheading them simultaneously with one swift, circular attack. The prince, who had been curled up on the ground, gradually revealed himself when he felt the towering shadows disappear. “Young knight,” he said, “what is your name?” Rania was too afraid to speak, for the one thing she could not master was the alteration of her voice. “Young man,” the prince got closer, “I am eternally grateful for your help, but I order you to speak!”

Rania cleared her throat before mumbling, “Rahin,” hoping the helmet and visor would conceal her true pitch. The sound of horse steps grew louder. Desperately, the Prince ripped off Rania’s helmet, and despite her buzzed head, her beauty was undeniably that of a woman. In that same instant, the rest of the Knights and the King arrived promptly at the sight of the unveiling…

But before Scheherazade could finish her story about the young female soldier, dawn broke and morning overtook Scheherazade; she lapsed into silence. Then her sister Dinarzad said, “What a lovely story!”

Scheherazade replied, “Tomorrow night shall be even more entertaining and wonderful!”

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THE TWENTY–FIRST NIGHT

The following night, Dinarzad said to her sister, “Sister, if you are not sleepy, would you please continue the tale about the disguised female soldier?”

To which Scheherazade replied, “It would be my pleasure.”

I heard, O King, that when the King arrived, his sword clanked amongst the forest ground. “You are a woman!” gasped the soldiers.

“Seize her!” yelled the King. The prince, baffled, couldn’t help but look back as he was dragged away by his father. Cursing under his breath, the King exclaimed, “Mark my words, she will pay!”

The prince replied, “But father, that woman is brilliant, and she saved my life. I’ve never felt that feeling in my stomach before with any of the suitors,” he pleaded. “That beautiful female warrior,” he added smittenly, “I would like to marry her, Father.” The King remained silent as they rode to the palace, the Knights pulling Rania away.

The following morning, the Prince went down to the dungeon to converse with Rania. Perpetually infatuated, they conversed for hours. Day after day, he went to visit her behind the King’s back until one day, Rania wasn’t there. “You see, fisherman,” elaborated the fish, “The King had ordered a sorcerer to punish me. Before I knew it, a green wave of mist wrapped around my soul, splitting it into an abundance of fish!”

“That, Royal Keeper, is my story,” said the fish. At that moment, the fisherman remembered the words of the demon:

Take them to the king of your city and offer them to him, and he will give you enough to make you rich.

He realized that his riches weren’t that of money or power, but the true value was something irreplaceable: the knowledge from the stories the fish told. “And the only way to save me from this curse is to gather all remnants of my soul into one pond, which you have already begun,” concluded the treading koi.

But before Scheherazade could finish the tale of the fisherman’s quest, dawn broke, and morning overtook Scheherazade, where she lapsed into silence. Then her sister Dinarzad said, “What an amazing story!”

To which Scheherazade replied, “Tomorrow night shall be even more wonderful, so long as the King lets me live!”

The King watched Scheherazade as her eyelids gradually met; her lips slightly parted. He did not know what compelled him, yet slowly, his fingers carefully brushed through the thousands of dark, silky strands before him. As he sat beside her– for the first time since betrayals that blackened his heart, he thought about a thousand reasons why he felt such a powerful desire to keep her safe; how he wondered not how the story would end, but how he longed for the next one to begin.

Until he too lapsed into silence.