verge of dehydration and he was also starving. Azrak looked him over and faced his oldest son.
“I need my bag, now!” he ordered.
Matthias ran to his father and handed him the bag. Azrak ran through the contents and pulled out a small medical kit. He opened the case to reveal bandages, anti-toxins, rations, and disinfectants. He unlocked the rations compartment, and retrieved several morsels of food.
He placed his fingers on the stranger’s neck to find a pulse. Azrak found a very faint trace of life in the strange visitor. Then the blue caregiver took a piece of food and placed it in the outlander’s mouth.
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Desperate for air, the man coughed violently. He hacked up plugs of putrid sand from his mouth and nose.
Matthias pointed to the stranger’s face. “Its eyes are opening, Father!”
“Here,” Azrak said to the pink life form, “take this. You have traveled a long way, my friend. It is my honor and privilege to have found you.”
The man opened his eyes to discover the silhouettes of three oddly shaped strange beings standing over him in front of a blinding pink sky. Their eyes were much wider than any human being. Their skin was as blue as the sea itself and neither of them had any noses. He looked at the adult through half-closed eyes. His lips, dry and parched, quivered as he struggled to talk.
Azrak feared that the impact from the crash might have given the injured stranger a concussion. He had to keep him awake. It didn’t matter what the subject of the conversation would be; as long as the Azurian man would keep the man awake.
“I know you must be in terrible pain, my friend,” said Azrak, looking over the strange man’s wounds. His attention was fully focused on the dislocated arm. “But can you move your arm?”
The man grunted with effort, and sucked his teeth in pain. Beads of sweat dripped through the pores of his forehead, and his face turned red.
“I think it’s broken,” he answered the tall blue man.
Azrak studied the severe ailment. “It’s not broken, only dislocated.”
“Can you put it back into place?”
“Yes, I can,” Azrak replied, placing his hands on the man’s shoulder. “I must warn you, the pain will be excruciating.”
The man took a breath and looked at Azrak in a state of readiness. “Then do it.”
Azrak gripped the man’s shoulder. “Be still. I’m going to do it on the count of three.”
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The man closed his eyes and muttered a prayer in his native tongue.
“One…” the blue man began, and then a loud popping sound erupted inside the man’s eardrum. The man howled in pain.
“I thought you were going to count to three!”
Azrak gave him a small smile. “I am very sorry. I thought you would back out at the last second.”
He expected the bizarre pink man would be angry. But he was surprised to hear the sound of laughter.
“I would have too,” the man laughed. “Well played, my friend. Well played.”
Azrak laughed along with him, while he checked the arm, which was now placed back into its socket.
“Your arm looks better, but it’s going to take some time to heal. What is your name, stranger?”
The adrenaline from the minor operation was wearing off, and the man had a feeling he could pass out at any moment. He mustered all the strength he had left to answer his savior’s question.
“On the Isle of Kish, I am a hero,” he began, forcing himself to keep his eyes open. “In the city of Abu Dhabi, I am a thief. And in Baghdad I am to be killed on sight.”
Azrak leaned onto every word the man said. He had no recollection about the cities and countries that were mentioned. It was then Azrak learned that this man wasn’t from around here at all.
“My friends call me a sailor. My enemies call me a pirate.”
Pirate? Thought Azrak in fear. Is he affiliated with the deadly pirate Rhadjan Vix?
Then the man placed his hand onto Azrak’s. “But you may call me Sinbad.”
Sinbad the Sailor quickly surveyed his surroundings. Nothing was familiar to him. He had been all over the world, but he didn’t remember anything about this place. Then he feared he wasn’t in his beloved city of Baghdad anymore.
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He finally gave into the shock and rolled his eyes inside his head. Azrak stood up in alarm and lifted Sinbad into his arms, and carried him off over the dunes.
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CHAPTER ONE
IT’S ALL FATE AND CHANCE
Deep into the subterranean dungeon of the malevolent Emperor Akhdar Dadgar, the newly crowned monarch of the Dozhakian throne and ruler of the Thulian people; in the middle of the prison cell sat a man whose broad shoulders and sun-browned skin seemed out of place among these dismal surroundings. He seemed more a part of the sun and winds, and the high planes of the outlands. The legendary sailor Sinbad knelt on top of the red Martian dirt and began to greet the morning’s dawn on this strange world he has been stranded since far back as he could remember by praying to Allah. The first of the five sessions he had to perform for the day. Salah is intended to focus on the mind of Allah, and seen as a personal communication with Him. Sinbad hoped the benevolent deity would hear His worshiper’s prayers from all the way back to Earth. But Sinbad wasn’t pleading for himself, but for those he had befriended on this planet.
Sinbad stood upright facing Qiblah and then proceeded to make Niyyah in his heart. He raised his hands to his ears and said softly, “Allah is the greatest.” Sinbad placed his right hand on top of his left hand on his chest and looked downward to the ground. “O Allah, how perfect You are and praise be to You,” the humble sailor silently began. “Blessed is Your name and exalted is Your majesty. There is no god but You. I seek shelter from the rejected Satan. In the name of Allah, the most Gracious and Merciful.”
Sinbad took a breath to replenish himself before he could continue. He held onto his chest tightly and recited the first chapter of the Quran.
“All praises and thanks be to Allah, the Lord of the worlds, the most Gracious, the most Merciful; Master of the Day of Judgment. You alone we worship, from You
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alone we seek help. Guide us along the straight path, the path of those whom You favored, not of those who earned Your anger
