Malik Nazari's Questionnaire

Alexandria. Of course, Alexandria. Why anywhere else? It’s the city of tides—empires rise, knowledge burns, fortunes turn to dust, then spring up again, shinier than before. Change is its only law, and I rather like that.

Right now? I live in a cell. El-Marg, if you must know. Crowded, dull, full of boys who think they’re lions but haven’t even learned to hunt. I don’t mind it much—it’s temporary, like everything else.

The city, though… I love her, but she doesn’t seem to love me back. Never did. Never handed me a thing. No name, no family, no future wrapped in a ribbon. So, I made my own. I learned to read, to write, to lead. I found the others, the ones the city forgot, and we made a life from its scraps. Still, Alexandria never gave us much, never let us sit at her grand tables.

But that’s fine. I know her better than anyone. She was a fishing village, then the heart of the world, then ruins, then something new again. She doesn’t care for kings or beggars—only for what’s next. And I? I’m very interested in what’s next.

"Money?" chuckles "I get by. A few coins from the boys still out there, a little for cooking, a little more for fetching things people want but shouldn’t have. Pavilion 6 and 10—busy places, full of need. Nothing wrong with a bit of service, right? Cigarettes, mostly. They go fast. Faster than you'd think in a place like this."

"I don’t spend much. Can’t afford to. There’s life after this, and I’ll need something when I step back into it. But every now and then, I help out—medicine for a cellmate, a hand for a kid getting pushed around. Not charity, no. A name is worth more than any coin in here. People talk. They remember. You keep your place at the table, make sure no one forgets it. And one day?" grins "One day, I'll serve them all."

"What am I striving for? Change. Not the kind that comes politely, knocking on doors, asking for permission. No, the kind that shatters, that burns, that makes way for something new. You ever hear the saying, ‘Our dreams burn buildings’? I did. From a man with fire in his voice. A syndicate leader—I never met him, not properly, but I listened. Listened and learned."

"You see, I grew up in the rubble of old dreams. War, protests, soldiers with batons and rifles. I learned young that power does not share. It takes. And if you want a seat at the table, you do not ask. You carve your name into it."

"But I didn’t learn that alone. There was a day, long ago, when a soldier struck me down, left me in the dirt. Heat like an open oven, the smell of sweat and blood. And in that fevered place between life and death, I heard voices. Jackals, crows, spirits whispering. Making promises."

"And then there was Mr. Crow."

"He found me when no one else would. He showed me where lost coins glinted in the sand, where scraps of food lay untouched. He led me to shelter when the nights grew cold. In return, I listened. I built him a shrine by the docks—nothing much, just a seagull skull, some stolen decorations from Sham El-Nessim. He asked for nothing but respect. And what has he given me?"

"Everything."

"Now, I know his name: Raum. Burner of cities, turner of fortunes. Power that does not demand chains. A true friend, the only kind worth having. And me? I serve him, not as a slave, but as a companion, a confidant. We have an understanding, you see. I help him, and he helps me. And if I have to kill for it? If I have to die for it?"

grins "I already have. And I'd do it again."