We Hunt the Flame (Sands of Arawiya, #1)

by Hafsah Faizal

His mother used to say that a person without hope was a body without a soul.

But once the head falls, the rest is destined to follow.

“The people remain silent out of the fear that taxes may increase. The peace is temporarily ensured—for what? My work was merely unearthing the reason for change. For why a tyrant emerged in place of our good sultan. Our sultana would not have brought him into the fold if he were so dark a man. Something stirs in the shadows, boy. Soon, death will be the least of our horrors.”

“A life with magic means nothing to me if you aren’t in it.”

We hunt the flame, the light in the darkness, the good this world deserves.

Tragedies happen once, memories relive them eternally. You understand that, don’t you? You have floundered in loss.

We may not trust one another completely, but it is important we carry on as a zumra. It is important to remember that everything and everyone has the capacity for both evil and benevolence.

We can strengthen our bodies and fortify our minds, but the heart is a monster of its own.

My mother once said that just as our eyes tailor to the darkness, so do our souls.”

He was always sad, he knew. But there was a difference between a perpetual state of unhappiness and a sudden gust of it, leaving him cold and helpless.

“We’re so quick to dismiss the sentiment as weak, but hearts beat for love, don’t they? A life without purpose may be no life, but a life without love is nothing but an existence.”