The Desert of Narala, The Trade Route of Early Arabia,part,3,The Wells of Kings

Ten years had passed over Narala like a caravan moving across the horizon, leaving behind footprints that slowly vanished under the steady winds of the desert.The city, once merely a rediscovered well surrounded by shattered pillars, had transformed into the heart of a growing world.Stone houses now lined wide streets where only tents had stood before.The sound of hammers striking bronze filled the air from morning until night.Large warehouses stood beside the market, their thick walls protecting grain, spices, incense, and valuable textiles brought from lands many could not imagine.Every sunrise brought another procession of camels, and every sunset saw another departure, with the city breathing as if it were a living being, its lifeblood being trade itself.Harith was no longer the curious boy who climbed dunes searching for unknown horizons.Years of leading caravans and exploring forgotten paths had changed him, giving his face a hardened look beneath the desert sun.Fine lines marked the corners of his eyes,