The Call of El Naddaha
The Lure of the Nile
In a time when the Nile’s waters whispered secrets to those who would listen, there lived a young man named Ayman in a small village nestled along the river’s edge. Ayman, with his dark curls and kind eyes, was known for his bravery and his heart, which belonged entirely to Laila, the baker’s daughter. Their love was the kind that the old poets wrote about—pure, intense, and seemingly unbreakable.
Every evening, Ayman would sit by the river, waiting for Laila to finish her work, the scent of fresh bread mingling with the cool evening breeze. They would talk for hours, sharing dreams of a future together, unaware of the ancient danger lurking in the shadows of the reeds.
The First Whisper
One moonlit night, as Ayman waited for Laila, he heard a voice—a haunting, beautiful melody that seemed to come from the depths of the Nile. It called his name, soft and inviting. Intrigued, Ayman stood and walked towards the sound, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and curiosity.
As he approached the water’s edge, he saw her—a woman of ethereal beauty, standing knee-deep in the river. Her long black hair floated around her like a dark halo, and her eyes shimmered with an unnatural light. She sang his name again, and Ayman felt a strange compulsion to step into the water.
But before he could move, a hand gripped his arm. “Ayman, no!” Laila’s voice cut through the enchantment, breaking the spell. The woman in the river glared at Laila, her eyes flashing with anger, before vanishing beneath the surface.
The Curse
Shaken, Ayman and Laila returned to the village. They told the elders what had happened, and their faces grew pale. “El Naddaha,” they whispered, crossing themselves for protection. The elders spoke of the ancient jinn who called to men by the river, luring them to their deaths.
Laila was determined to protect Ayman. She sought out an old hermit who lived in the mountains, a man rumored to know the secrets of the jinn. The hermit listened to her story and nodded gravely. “El Naddaha is not easily thwarted,” he said. “She is drawn to the hearts of men, especially those who are loved. You must be vigilant and strong, for she will not give up easily.”
The Second Encounter
Despite their efforts to avoid the river at night, Ayman felt an irresistible pull. The nights grew long and restless as he heard the whispers of El Naddaha in his dreams. He became distant and distracted, and Laila feared losing him to the jinn’s curse.
One fateful evening, Ayman could no longer resist. He left his home and walked to the river, where El Naddaha waited. This time, her song was more powerful, her voice weaving a spell around his heart. As he stepped into the water, he felt the cold embrace of the Nile creeping up his legs.
Laila, sensing his absence, ran to the river. She saw Ayman waist-deep in the water, his eyes glazed over as he reached out to the jinn. Desperate, she called his name, but her voice was drowned out by El Naddaha’s song.
The Sacrifice
In a final act of love, Laila waded into the river, placing herself between Ayman and El Naddaha. “Take me instead,” she cried, her voice breaking with emotion. The jinn paused, her eyes narrowing as she considered the offer.
El Naddaha’s gaze softened, and for a moment, her voice faltered. “Love like yours is rare,” she said, her tone wistful. “But I am bound by my nature. One must be taken.”
With a heavy heart, Laila kissed Ayman one last time, whispering words of love and farewell. As the enchantment broke, Ayman realized what was happening. “No, Laila, don’t!” he screamed, but it was too late. El Naddaha pulled Laila into the depths, her song echoing in the night.
The Aftermath
Ayman collapsed on the riverbank, sobbing uncontrollably. The village mourned the loss of Laila, and the elders performed rites to protect Ayman from further harm. The river seemed to mourn with them, its waters dark and somber.
Days turned into weeks, and Ayman’s grief consumed him. He would sit by the river, talking to Laila as if she were still there. One evening, as the sun set in a blaze of orange and red, he heard a faint, familiar voice.
“Ayman,” it called, soft and gentle. He turned to see Laila, her form shimmering like a mirage. She smiled, and for the first time in weeks, Ayman felt a glimmer of peace.