This story could be considered as a prequel to my OC in the story of "The Misfits" by Cyber System, narrating his childhood and exile altogether.
All of you already know about Laa-Mohr and how he joined 'The Misfits'. But have you ever wondered about his story, his background, and especially... his curse?! Let's find out right now as I narrate you this Saddle Arabian tale of the Son of Nopony.
A long time back, even before Princess Celestia and Luna were brought to the universe as deities of the Sun and the Moon*, the Creator of Ponykind has left a prophecy well-hidden in the Saddle Arabian foundations: It stated that one day, one pony shall receive an eternal curse in the form of a cutie-mark and it will follow him until the day he or she dies. This pony might be the harbinger of death itself no matter how innocent, beautiful or intelligent he or she looked. It is that day that Equestria might suffer from his or her existence and whatever he or she does will not matter in the eyes of other ponies. It was dictated that he shall suffer because he or she will make his or her own ponykind forget the Creator's name and instead admire him blindly no matter where he or she goes. This prophecy was hidden and almost forgotten by everypony but when it will emerge, everypony will remember that there is still a Creator in this world.
Saddle Arabia: Twenty five years before the events of The Misfits
Behind the treacherous sandy dunes of the Grand Worm Desert lies the majestic city and capital of Saddle Arabia, Istablbul (Istabl = Stable). The city was not as grand as Canterlot but its white and sandy brown buildings, colorful stalls and crowdy atmosphere made it stand out to be one of the economic and agricultural powers in all of Equestria. Everything from fresh imported food to local exotic fruits and vegetables could be seen despite the heat and the lack of watery resources. Even though it seems peaceful, it's far over from that if you ask me.
"You scoundrel," somepony was yelling in front of the gathering crowd "You stole all my dates (Don't go too far into your mind, it's the fruit) and hidden them somewhere only you know. Now answer me! Where are my dates crop?"
The grey colt with jet-black hair said nothing which angered his master, grabbing him from his rags.
"I gave you a job, I gave you money," the last statement made the colt glare "I gave you shelter and clothes and yet you back-stabbed me. Why I ought to deliver you to the Grand Vizier Caliph for this." The dates farmer said, pulling him throughout Saddle Arabia to the Vizier's quarters. As they were passing, the colt was earning glances of pity from his younger co-workers, the crowd, and pretty much everypony they passed. However, he was unfazed and ready to accept his punishment whatever it was.
Istablbul Palace: Vizier quarters
Compared to regular Saddle Arabian buildings, the palace looked glamourous with its pearl white paint and towers endorsed with golden domes. Two particular towers were decorated with suns and moons representing the reign of Princess Celestia and Luna respectively. Alas, the Lunar tower was in tatters since the Princess of the night's banishment. Our interest is shifted as we could hear a yell coming out from the Vizier's quarters: It was the dates farmer explaining, rather loudly, his situation in front of the Grand Vizier Caliph and his chancellor who serves as judge of his cases. The Vizier was a rather young looking yellow stallion, clothed with a turban on his head and a stern look on his bright red eyes. His cutie mark could not be seen since he had the cape of the Grand Vizier on him.**
"O Grand Vizier," he started "It is a horrible calamity that happened: This foal" as he pulled him in front of the crowd "has stolen all the crops of dates I've been living for. He has hidden them in a place and will never reveal their location, nor will he pay me back for whatever he has stolen. I have given him everything anypony wishes for and yet he betrayed me." The Vizier was looking intensly at the colt, who had his head lowered not of shame, but of submission. He could see from behind his eyebrows a fierce look. While the chancellor was angered by his actions. Looking from high up to the colt, he approached him.
"Anything you have to say for yourself, young one?" the colt simply didn't move.
"See? He has been doing this from the very beginning. He's guilty, guilty I tell you." screamed the farmer.
"If you are as guilty as he claims, then you have no choice but to submit. You are a worker in his crops yet you have commited a grave sin. Only punishment awaits you as the dungeon calls I'm afraid. Guards! Get him." as the guards approached, the colt rose his head and intensified his look on the Vizier.
"Is this your justice, O Grand Vizier?" asked the colt "You hastely let your 'chancellor' take rash decisions without even hearing out the accused."
"You insolent foal" yelled the chancellor "We gave you a chance to speak and you wasted it. Now it's too late."
"Not even when I am willing to tell you truths you didn't know about this pony who is pretending to be my caretaker and savior?" At this, the Vizier's eyes sparkled with interest at the young colt. Raising his hoof to halt the commotion, he put himself in a thinking position.
"Everypony deserves a second chance, chancellor. Let's hear what this young one has to say as rashness isn't part of my creed. We're all ears, young one." the colt simply looked back at the Vizier, nodded and answered.
"Tell me please what do you think of someone who 'eats' the others' money?" the crowd was simply flabbergasted at his choice of words "This stallion is the heir of my true caretaker who passed away a short time after taking me under his hoof. He taught me everything about farming and in turn I taught this stallion's farmers to love this job and yet this... opportunist and 'heir' of the farms didn't even care about the well-being of his workers: He didn't respect their wages, their morals and even their bodies. He even was beating some of us to submission." As his monotone tone was having an impact on the Vizier, the head farmer was boiling with rage.
"Why you insolent foal, I oughta-" he was silenced by the stern look of the Vizier and the guards' lances. As he gestured to the colt to continue.
"I simply did my deed as a rancourous act. He doesn't deserve anything more than whatever I did, not even one single leave of a palm tree. The fruit itself is named after the Phoenix, who is the symbol of life and Princess Celestia's most sacred animal according to the teachings of my old caretaker. I may be a fifteen-years old orphan but I have seen far beyond whatever you have seen, O Grand Vizier. Whoever treats who treats this fruit with such grace and respect unfairly and even barbarically doesn't deserve to be called a farmer." the words of the young colt touched the Vizier so much that he raised his head to the ceiling, eyes closed, breathing steadily but slowly and then standing up from his seat, unsteathing his scimitar and putting it at neck-range of the farmer who cowered in fear as a drip of blood came out of his neck. It didn't drop on the sword but rather at the beautiful green carpet that was decorating the room.
"Even my sword doesn't want to taste your blood, farmer." he spat out with a venom-laced tone as he steathed his sword back "Begone, and never come back. Guards! Escort this ingrate outside of the palace and make sure he receives one hundred lashes in front of his own workers. Also, make sure to assign one of them as the new head. Strip this one from his garnements and give them to a trustworthy stallion such as this young colt." as soon as the orders were called, the farmer was escorted outside, shrieking and squealing like a madman while another guard carried the cape and presented it to the colt.
"As for you, my dear colt, I have other plans for you" these words got the colt's attention "How about you decide who to give this cape and then I'll assign you as my new chancellor?" upon hearing this, the chancellor fainted on the spot, earning a booming laugh from the Vizier.
"With all due respect, your highness, I am still young for such a great responsibility and I am nothing but a farmer who experienced life from a farmer's view. I traveled a lot with my previous caretaker as I self-taught myself the noble art of swordsmanship at a young age." the colt answered, earning another laugh from the Vizier.
"YET, you have proven yourself worthy facing the adults, even myself. Trust me that lack of confidence doesn't suit such a wise colt as you are. You are a true gem that needs to be polished more and more so that it'll cut even the Sun into pieces. You shall become even more than the chancellor, you shall be my son and that is an order!" he approached the young colt, patting his shoulders "Now tell me, son, what is your name?"
"My name... is Laa-Mohr, Son of Nopony and a Nopony in this world." he answered happily.
Laa-Mohr's POV
Such compliments, such graceful words that made me feel happy for probably the first time in years, were flawless to the apparent eye as they were the start of both my blessing and my unfateful meeting.
It's been over a month since Laa-Mohr's case. Grand Vizier Caliph was in a meeting with Sultan Nahaar (Morning). A conversation of the utmost importance was inbound after exchanging greetings.
"This is an emergency, your Highness," stated the Vizier, gritting his teeth "We can't let them control the country from inside out."
"I know, Caliph, I know," said the Sultan, sighing "But their influence on the country's economy is crucial. Their collaboration is critical to our well-being. Their actions might be... barbaric but the problem is that they have the biggest role and own the biggest share on the markets."
"How did they get in there in the first place intrigues me. That is not something you can easily obtain without any internal aid." the Vizier questioned.
"Do you think somepony in our midst is behind all of this?" the Sultan asked, terrified.
"Let us not fear the worst, your Highness. Let us not fear the worst." reassured Caliph, tapping on his shoulders.
Laa-Mohr wasn't one that likes meetings and talk. He was the chancellor indeed but he was still a beginner. He begged his father to reconsider his position to no avail. He was in the training hall, practicing his swordsmanship and honing his skills. Sweating bullets after a long three hours training, he went to take a shower. As he went, all the servants' eyes were at him, murmuring about how charming he was, how alluring he trotted through the halls. He did nothing but trot through the halls, head down, and that's all it took to attract their attention to him. As he took his shower, he thought of trying to convince his father again to reconsider his position. Finishing his bath, he headed towards his quarters to get some sleep. As he entered, he saw the Vizier waiting.
"Ah, my son," he started "Just the pony I'm looking for."
"Father!" exclaimed Laa-Mohr "To what I owe this visit?" He did not expect anypony to come by, especially at a time like this.
"Why weren't you at the royal hall this morning? We had an important matter to discuss with the Sultan."
"I told you before, Father, I am really not one for politics. Please find somepony else to replace me as chancellor." he begged.
"That's why I am here," this surprised Laa-Mohr "to give you a dangerous mission that will determine whether you're a pony for the field or for the desk." Laa-Mohr's hooves trembled not from fear, but from excitement. Finally something that would bring his dulled body back in action.
"I am ready to give my life if I have to." said Laa-Mohr without hesitation.
"Are you sure about that, son?" asked Caliph with a bit of concern "It might really lead to your death."
"Anything to relieve me from my boredom! Anything to relieve me from my position!" with a stern look, Laa-Mohr answered his father.
"... I see... Alright, the matter is yours then," the Vizier conceded "Do you know about the slave trading market in Siraj El-Akhal? (The Black Firefly)" Siraj El-Akhal was the most powerful economic center of Saddle Arabia. It got its position mostly via slave trading.
"How or whoever they got to that position is still a mystery even to us," said the Vizier "and the townsponies there were sworn secrecy whenever they come to the capital. I want you to infiltrate Siraj El-Akhal and expose the mastermind and investigate the reason of such secrecy, alone." Laa-Mohr stomped forward as he took out his scimitar and planted it on the ground.
"I shall be your pony then, father! I will leave right this instant. I will come back if that's the Creator's will for me to do so." Laa-Mohr was so determined that he put on a black cloak on him and trotted out of the castle. The Vizier put his hoof on his chest; he had a bad feeling about what will happen to his son. He felt irresponsible, yet it was his own son's choice.
"May the Creator watch over us all!"
Nighttime, Siraj El-Akhal
Trotting in the city of Siraj El-Akhal at nighttime was the last thing you'll ever do. The sinister and dark atmosphere was looming around the alleys as the screams of slaves were in the air. But where were they? That's what Laa-Mohr was trying to find out in the past month during his stay. He was trotting this city from head to toe yet no clue and not a soul was in sight.
'This is infuriating!' he thought 'Every morning, this city's activities are as normal as any other city works but as soon as the night comes, it becomes silent as if Death itself claimed all the citizens' souls. Something really stinks around here but I can't lay my hoof on it.' As he went to another alley, he finally stumbled into somepony in this city, trotting casually. The old brown pony's face was full of wrinkles and flashing red for some reason. This reason being known as Laa-Mohr put his hoof on his nose: The old pony reeked of booze. He finally opened his eyes, seeing Laa-Mohr.
"Oh! Exchuse meh, young'in, I diin't shee ya at all" he started "What dosh a young'in like ya doin' in a shitty like shis?" Laa-Mohr dusted off his cape, eyeing the old pony.
"Ahhhhh! Ya must be lookin' for the Coliseum..." At this, Laa-Mohr had his attention on the old coot.
"Coliseum? What Coliseum?" he asked.
"Ya mean ya don know about the shekret of shis shitty? Oh well ah ponyfeathers!" exclaimed the old pony. Realizing that he goofed up, his expression changed from old drunkard to sweaty old suspicious pony all of a sudden. Laa-Mohr kept his cool and got a purse of golden bits from his cape and opened it in front of the eyes of the old pony. The ragged old pony's eyes simply widened at the amount of money in there as he tried to take it only for Laa-Mohr to grab his hoof.
"Ah-ah-ah!" he said as he shook his head "No reward until you tell me about this 'secret'. And trust me I won't rat you to anypony. Let this be our 'own' secret and then we part ways, okay?" The poor pony nodded in defeat as he started forking up information after sobering up.
"Everypony in town knows about the secret of Siraj El-Akhal! As you know, this city is full of slave-traders but that's not their only occupation. They pay handsomely townsponies and authorities in order to keep their bidding as disclosed as possible from the public. There is a Coliseum built under this city that serves as a keep and prison for the slaves. During the night, whoever is rich enough can eat, drink while spectating a massacre as slaves kill each other! It is entertaining I can agree to that, but absolutely barbaric. That is why you cannot find ponies to talk to at night: They're either sleeping in fear or watching for entertainment and gluttony. Whoever responsible for these acts I don't know since they don't reveal themselves publicly. I have a family, young one. I was afraid of what will happen if I told somepony outside of the city about it! Please don't let this old pony's talk in vain!" As Laa-Mohr listened attentively to his story, he gave him the purse full of gold and grabbed him again.
"Where can I find this underground passage?!"
The Coliseum
A guard was patrolling what looked like the entrance of the Coliseum. When suddenly, he heard hoof beats coming his way.
"Who goes there?" he asked, alerted by the presence. It was a well-dressed elderly carrying a youngster in rags by a rope tied around his neck. The youth looked in tatters, head down and walking by what seemed to be his master.
"Hello there! It's me again," said the old pony "And I have a rather good find for your slave market: A fine young stallion I found in the Grand Worm Desert. I captured him by sheer luck I tell ya. I wanna see if he can stand a chance in the arena." The guardspony eyed carefully both of them thoroughly until he sighted a sword on the old man's sheath.
"And what are you supposed to be doing with that?" he inquired.
"O-oh this? I intend to give it to him as a good luck charm for his fights." He answered, looking left and right. The guard simply nodded as he allowed them to pass.
The underground tunnels were so dark that you can't even see your own hooves inside them. If it weren't for the torch in the guard's possession, anypony could be lost in this labyrinth of breath-taking walls. As they arrived in front of a metallic door, the guard slid the key, turned it and opened the door. The sight was unbearable: Camels and ponies all over the place were either in rags, weeping, bleeding, or in torture slabs, ready to be disemboweled. In fact, somepony or camel intestines could be seen lying across what seems to be the torture chamber's room. As they arrived in front of a cell, the guard spoke to the prisoner.
"This is going to be your room from now on! I will ask the boss to schedule a grand fight between you and your cellmate tomorrow. I wish to see whether is old man has brought us some fine merchandise."
"Excuse me if I ask" the prisoner suddenly spoke "But who is this boss of yours?"
"Ah! You have a tongue you can speak with! This is amazing!" the guard responded, impressed "But to answer your question, nopony knows who the boss is as he's always wearing a mask during his fight sights. He doesn't allow anypony to go into his turf. He's that secret of a pony I tell you."
"Thanks for the honest answer. I have accepted my fate as a slave and I will accept my fate as a fighter tomorrow as this is the destiny bestowed upon me." he said solemnly.
"Good luck with your fight tomorrow. Make sure to know about your opponent, that is IF you can get anything from him." he said, laughing as he and the old man left to discuss payment and bets on the fight.
The room was like any other prison room except for one difference: The cellmate was a white, gargantuan camel about three times his size covered in scars and with crimson eyes as menacing as he looks. The camel didn't move an inch as his new cellmate entered and laid down in his bed, which was unusual since his figure was rather frightening to his previous cellmates that he regrettably butchered. He started speaking although his speech was unclear and broken.
"You new cellmate?" the prisoner was surprised: He thought that all camel slaves were unable of speech and what surprised him even more is that his voice was surprisingly sweet for somepony(camel) of his size.
"How is that you can speak?" he asked.
"Me hear me repeat. But me not understand everything. Me brought here from Camellia, clan mine. Captured me while getting food for clan." the camel answered with the best of his abilities. "Name is Kamal! Name of somepony that I kill tomorrow?!" the prisoner's eyes met his future opponent as he raised from his bed and answered with one singular word.
"Laa-Mohr."
Laa-Mohr's POV
It was under those circumstances that I met the most loyal friend a pony could ask for, Kamal. He didn't seem as a friend to me at first but just you wait as I uncover the mystery behind this trade, a secret so deep that it will change our lives forever.
This was the night he was waiting for, the night where all will probably be revealed. It is now or never. Tonight, he will uncover the dark secret behind the mastermind of slave trading and, if the Creator is willing, end this on his own. However, he has one obstacle to overcome: The hulking mass of a camel in front of him known as Kamal. You can see the latter meditating and chanting a mantra in his own native tongue. This picked Laa-Mohr's curiosity as he asked his opponent.
"So, preparing for battle it seems?" it was an innocent but nevertheless rhetorical question but what Kamal answered was probably different.
"Me pray for spirit that soul of you go to the sky safely. Me really don't like to kill much but if I not kill, I die. Fighting I live for. All I do all my life since little camel. Fight for glory, fight for survival, fight for myself, fight so that Camellia people not suffer. Tyrant lurking. Tyrant watch over all. Tyrant knows if me fail, not only me, but people of me die." Laa-Mohr thought for a little then started saying the following.
"Do you not wish for freedom, Kamal?" At those words, Kamal's ears perked.
"Free-dom? Me not know that word. But word seem good on the tongue. You know many things for slave. Me rare to see slaves know anything." The eyes of Kamal were looking intensely at the pony. He felt something he never felt before: Inferiority. For the first time of his life, the poor camel found himself rather weakened in a domain he didn't even expect to be. He looked in admiration at the grey young colt and said.
"Me really wish not to kill you. You could be good pony but I sorry if I do kill you."
"I have three words for you then: Do your worst!" exclaimed Laa-Mohr, laughing. Truth is the latter was afraid. He really is fearing for his life. He couldn't keep his hoof shaking. But he knew that now is not the time for fear, it's time for a duel to the death as the jailer came, opened their cell and yelled.
"Alright you two, into the arena! Give the spectators some spectacle that they enjoy." And with that, the bells of fate toiled for both.
Coliseum Arena
The arena was not as Laa-Mohr expected. For a place built in the underground, it was big, well-maintained and not to mention crowded, so crowded that you couldn't hear yourself from the amount of cheering there is. The two opponents were unchained and are presented with their respective weapons: For Laa-Mohr, his trusty scimitar made of iron and was a gift from his previous caretaker. As for Kamal, he had a giant axe. From the smell of blood, the axe has seen many victims in its battles, probably in the hooves of Kamal. Laa-Mohr looked at his sword then at the guard.
"I couldn't reject the old man's request so I had the sword with me until your duel. Good luck! You'll need it." Laa-Mohr smirked at what he said and went to the arena, facing Kamal. Before the fight could start, a horn was blown from the spectator's seats, specifically the VIP spot which was the highest. A masked pony with a big cape covering his whole physique appeared as the crowd grew wilder. His cape bore the mark of slavery: A green cobra head with its tail constricting a pony's hoof.
"Mares and Gentlecolts arena lovers, I welcome you personally to witness another glorious battle tonight" he said with a distorted voice as the cheers echoed more and more through the arena walls. "Without further adeu, let me present you our gladiators. To my left, we have everypony's favorite champion and my personal favorite. Kamal the Gargantuan." As he announced Kamal's name, the latter grunted while facing Laa-Mohr then he bowed to the masked pony. "And his challenger, another victim if I might add. What is your name, son? That is if you have one" he added laughing like a maniac and making the crowd boo and laugh with him. Laa-Mohr, however, didn't talk or even faze as he was looking at Kamal intensely. He assumed a sword stance, ready to battle as he waited for the egocentric pony to finally give his signal.
"And let the battle begins!" And he did give his signal for the battle.
With a roar, Kamal charged his opponent with a murderous intent and swung his axe at him from above only for Laa-Mohr to barely dodge the swing.
"Not only he's bulky and strong but he's swift too. One of these and I join the Creator for sure." Laa-Mohr thought as he dodged more swings. All of Kamal's swings made cracks on the ground as Laa-Mohr continued dodging until he was cornered. Kamal smirked as he took the opportunity and swung again only this time Laa-Mohr blocked, but it was inefficient as he was sent flying to the crowd stand. Blood splattered from his hoof as he stopped the impact by grabbing one of the fences that served as protection for the crowd. He quickly analysed the terrain and jumped from fence to fence while thinking of a strategy.
"He probably won't reach me here-" But his train of thoughts was interrupted by the axe being thrown at his direction and almost cleaved him hadn't he ducked in time. The axe went back to Kamal's hoof as it went by and the latter just smirked while shaking his head. "I take back everything I said! This camel is fearsome. I gotta do something against that." As he was thinking about his opponent, he used his sword on a nearby banner and made it back to the center of the arena. The crowd cheered for Kamal and his unknown opponent as they resumed fighting, this time Laa-Mohr took the initiative with fast swings on the camel. Some of these swings hit their mark but something told Laa-Mohr that they were barely scratches on that body; his suspicions were confirmed by a grab from the giant on his throat. Kamal headbutted his opponent which made Laa-Mohr's ears ring. As he readied another headbutt, Laa-Mohr regained his composure and stabbed the hoof on his throat, making Kamal scream in agony and rage. Sword still in hoof, Kamal removed it and impaled it in a nearby wall like a needle on a pincushion. Laa-Mohr tried to rush to his sword only to be stopped by the hulking mass and his axe's swing barring his way. He stepped on the axe's handle and delivered a magnificent overhead kick to the camel's face, rendering him down for a second. Taking the chance, he went for his sword only to find that it's really stuck there and would take time to remove it. Kamal approached slowly as he was ready for a downward swing. The pony saw this as he acrobatically dodged it by using his sword as a bar and standing on its blade. Using the wall as a path, he walked vertically on it and descended on his sword's pommel, omitting it from the wall and catapulting it towards Kamal's chest. The impact was unbearable for Kamal as the sword pierced his body from both sides. Laa-Mohr decided to finish the match by taking his sword out from his body and delivered a hoofful of bucks in the camel's face, knocking him down to the ground. The gargantuan has finally fell down, sweating, panting and bleeding heavily but he wasn't the only one as his triumphant opponent grabbed his bleeding hoof and limped towards Kamal, looking at him.
"You... defeat me..." Kamal said, breathing heavily between his words. "Me die... warrior death... an honor... to die... by you..." As he closed his eyes, prepared for the finishing blow of his opponent.
"You have done what has nopony done in the past ten years. Defeating my champion makes you the new champion of my arena. I won't need Kamal anymore. You can finish him however you choose." The masked pony said, venomously. Laa-Mohr looked at him and at Kamal. He grabbed his axe, ready to swing it...
"The only pony that is to die here is YOU!" he yelled as he threw the axe with all his strength towards the masked pony who barely dodged it but not without cracking his mask off. The pony's face was familiar for Laa-Mohr as his eyes widened to the realization: The pony had a brown mane and blue stilted eyes.
"KASSHIM! You were behind all this?!" he asked, voice booming to all the spectators who panicked as they rushed past the guards, some of them were impaled in the route of safety, screaming in terror the name they heard from Laa-Mohr's mouth.
"Why do this, Kasshim? Aren't you the son of the Sultan?" He was indeed the son of the Sultan as Laa-Mohr revealed. He heard many things about him from his father and only saw him a few times without even baring attention to him.
"The son... of the Sultan?" He laughed so evilly that Laa-Mohr could even see the demons coming from his mouth "I am no son of that fool! He practically disowned me after finding I was unworthy of the throne after him. It happened a long time ago, before you were brought to the castle. He and his 'trustworthy' Vizier found out that I wasn't doing my job properly, that I was having fun while my servants were doing my work! I am the heir of the Sultan and I have to do jobs? I have all rights to appoint anypony at my job. All I wanted is the life of a king where nopony questions me, obey me and my words. I was going to lead the kingdom one day but my father decided to appoint his Vizier instead. I was always jealous of that bastard. I am Emperor here at my own arena. I allowed slavery in secret because I wanted to build my own empire one day. But this day is going to be your last instead." He manically laughed as he lunged form his spot to finish off Laa-Mohr only to bump into Kamal's body. He was standing between both ponies as he grabbed Kasshim and splattered his head on the ground with such a force that his head exploded from his lifeless body.
"Me fear you... Me feared you long time... No more... Me freedom... Me not obey you no longer...." As Kamal fell on his knees, Laa-Mohr came to his aid.
"You needn't killing him. But after all he did to you and all he did to his own family, he deserved it. He was going to lead the kingdom to its dismay with his one-sided thinking. His father, may the Creator bless his soul, saw through that. It is as the Vizier feared, it was somepony from the inside that was controlling the strings to this operation. I better go back to Istablbul and inform them about the situation." As Laa-Mohr was ready to depart, he heard slow hoof beats from behind.
"I no understand words" it was Kamal going after him "But me come with you. Tribe tradition for saving life. Me owe you life forever. Me your slave." As he kneeled in front of him. Laa-Mohr went back towards him.
"I don't understand! You wanted freedom, you got it by your own hooves. Go back to your tribe and make sure to let them know that they're welcome to Saddle Arabia." He felt a grab and a shake.
"Me do that later! Me want to go with you. Freedom with you. Me not free without you." Kamal said solemnly. Laa-Mohr sighed as he gave up and walked with him outside towards Istablbul. "But please, you're not slave anymore, let's be friends instead." He added smirking.
"Fr-iend-s" Kamal mimicked "Me need to learn a lot." They laughed hardly as they walked through the dawn.
Laa-Mohr's POV
The Sultan was shocked by the news of his son betraying him but has accepted his fate and appointed Caliph as the new Sultan candidate, which made me the heir of a Sultan candidate, which meant a lot more paperwork but a lot more action too which I accepted humbly: There was no running from responsibility after all. Three years have passed since that event. Kamal officially became the ambassador between Saddle Arabia and Camellia as it officially became a protectorate under our hooves. He has learned Saddle Arabian for that and I never convinced him to break his oath of him protecting me forever, until 'that' day.
Arena grounds.
"I have finally found him. The pony that shall receive my prophecy one day." an unknown cloaked figure with a cane at hoof walked off the arena ground in pursuit of Laa-Mohr and then vanished into thin air.