Morning came in Basra.
Badr al-Din Hasan woke with a start.
For a moment he thought the night before had been a dream —the beautiful woman, the marriage, the warmth of her hands in his.
But then he saw the golden belt beside him.
His heart began to pound.
"It was real…"
He ran to the door of his room, threw it open, and rushed through the house searching for her.
But she was nowhere.
No servants had seen her.No guards had seen her enter or leave.No one in Basra had ever heard of her.
Badr al-Din was seized by madness of grief.
He wandered the streets calling her name, though he did not even know what her name was.
He could not eat.He could not sleep.He could not think.
At last he returned to the house of his grandfather, Shams al-Din, still clutching the golden belt.
When the old man saw his grandson pale and shaking, he cried,
"What has happened to you, O my son?"
Badr al-Din fell to his knees and told him everything —the strange night,the unseen forces,the beautiful bride,the sudden disappearance.
When Shams al-Din heard this, his face went white.
He whispered,
"By God… this must be the daughter of my brother, Nur al-Din's child."
But Badr al-Din knew nothing of this.
The old man ordered astrologers and learned men to be brought.
They examined the belt.
They studied the stars.
At last they said,
"This belt belongs to a princess in Cairo, daughter of a great noble."
Shams al-Din tore his beard.
"My brother's daughter… taken and returned by the power of heaven."
He told Badr al-Din the truth:that he had a brother in Cairo,that they had separated long ago,and that fate had now joined their children.
Badr al-Din cried out,
"Then I must go to Cairo! Even if it takes my whole life!"
Shams al-Din gave him money and servants and said,
"Go, my son. God has written this love in the stars."
But fate was not yet finished with him.
As Badr al-Din left Basra, something terrible happened.
He was robbed.
His money was stolen.
His servants deserted him.
And soon he was left alone, penniless, and wandering the roads like a beggar —still holding the golden belt,the last proof of his lost wife.
And so the prince who had been married by the heavensbecame a homeless wanderer on the earth.
Badr al-Din Hasan walked for days with nothing but dust on his feet and sorrow in his heart.
He begged when he had to.He slept under the open sky.Yet he never let go of the golden belt.
At last he reached Damascus.
Weak and starving, he collapsed near a baker's shop. The smell of fresh bread filled the air.
The baker saw the young man's noble face and pitied him.
"Who are you, and how did you fall into this state?"
Badr al-Din told him nothing — only that he had lost everything.
The baker gave him bread and water, then took him into his house.
Soon the baker's wife saw Badr al-Din and was struck by his beauty.Her heart burned with desire.
She tried to seduce him.
But Badr al-Din pushed her away.
"I have a wife. I will never betray her."
Furious, the woman screamed that Badr al-Din had tried to dishonor her.
The baker believed her.
He dragged Badr al-Din into the street and beat him.
The city guards came and, seeing the beaten stranger, assumed him guilty.
He was thrown into prison.
In the prison, Badr al-Din waited for death.
But destiny had other plans.
That very night, the King of Damascus ordered all prisoners released for a festival.
Badr al-Din was thrown out into the streets —homeless, broken, and still faithful to a wife he could not find.
He wandered again… until fate guided him to Cairo.
While Badr al-Din wandered through lands of sorrow,his wife Sitt al-Husn in Cairo lived in a palace of grief.
Every night she lay on the same bed where he had vanished.Every dawn she asked the same question:
"Where is the man who took my heart?"
She refused every proposal.She refused every comfort.
Even her father, the Wazir Shams al-Din, could not ease her pain.
Then one night she dreamed of Badr al-Din standing by a river,calling her name.
The dream felt real.
So real that she woke in tears.
"I know he lives," she told her father."My heart feels it."
The Wazir, who still kept Badr al-Din's clothes and the thousand dinars locked away, believed her.
He swore an oath before god:
"I will search every land until I find him."
Caravans were sent in every direction.Messengers rode to Syria, Iraq, Persia, and beyond.
One rider reached Damascus.
There he heard of a strange tale:
A beautiful young foreigner…A baker's wife's false accusation…A man thrown into prison and released.
The description matched Badr al-Din.
The rider rushed back to Cairo.
Badr al-Din was now in Cairo, unaware that fate was closing in on him.
He worked in a spice merchant's shop, hiding his true identity.
He spoke little.
But the sorrow in his eyes drew attention.
One day, Shams al-Din himself passed through the market.
His eyes fell upon Badr al-Din.
Something inside him stirred.
The same nose.The same eyes.The same noble bearing.
He whispered:
"By Allah… this face… this is my brother's face."
His heart began to pound.
Shams al-Din did not speak at first.
He stood in the marketplace, pretending to look at silk and spices,but his eyes never left the young man behind the counter.
That face…Those eyes…
They were the face of his lost brother Nur al-Din.
Finally, he called out:
"O young man."
Badr al-Din looked up.
The moment their eyes met,something strange passed between them.
Like blood recognizing blood.
"Yes, my lord?" Badr al-Din said.
"Where are you from?" the Wazir asked.
"From far away," he replied."From sorrow."
The Wazir's chest tightened.
"And your father?" he asked softly.
"He died," Badr al-Din said."I never even buried him."
Shams al-Din's hands began to shake.
"Your name?"
"Hasan," he said."People call me Hasan of Damascus."
The Wazir almost cried out.
He reached into his robe and pulled out a folded, yellowed paper.
The very paper his brother Nur al-Din had written.
The paper that had been sewn into Badr al-Din's turban on the night of his flight.
"Read this," Shams al-Din whispered.
Badr al-Din unfolded it.
His eyes widened.
It was his father's handwriting.
Dates.Names.A full life.
And at the bottom:
"My son is called Badr al-Din Hasan."
Badr al-Din fell to his knees.
"My father… you know my father?"
Shams al-Din pulled him into his arms.
"I am your uncle," he said through tears."The brother of the man who loved you before you were even born."
The marketplace disappeared.
They clung to each other like two men rescued from drowning.
Shams al-Din brought him to his palace.
There, Sitt al-Husn was waiting.
When she saw Badr al-Din…
Her breath stopped.
"By Allah…" she whispered.
She rushed forward.
"You," she said."The man of that night."
Badr al-Din stared.
The face he had never forgotten.The voice he heard in his dreams.
"My wife…" he said.
They embraced.
Tears fell on tears.
Even the walls seemed to weep.
Shams al-Din said:
"That night was written by Fate itself.Your union was decided before you were born."
The palace was silent.
Not the silence of emptiness —but the silence that comes when destiny finishes a long sentence.
Sitt al-Husn sat before Badr al-Din, her hands trembling as she touched his face,as if afraid he might vanish like a dream.
"You came back to me," she whispered."After all these years… Allah returned you."
Badr al-Din looked at her with eyes full of sorrow and wonder.
"I woke up one morning in a strange city," he said softly,"and my whole life became a shadow.Every night I saw your face…but I never knew if you were real."
Shams al-Din wiped his tears.
"My brother Nur al-Din left this world thinking he would never see his family again.Now god has reunited everything he lost."
Then the doors opened.
A boy entered.
Tall.Bright-eyed.Proud.
Ajib.
Sitt al-Husn stood and said quietly,"My son… this is your father."
Ajib froze.
The cook from Damascus.The man he had thrown a stone at.The man who had cried when he left.
That man.
"My… father?" he whispered.
Badr al-Din stepped forward slowly.
"You struck me once," he said gently."And I thanked god for it… because even your anger felt like a son's touch."
Ajib's eyes filled.
He fell to his knees.
"I didn't know," he sobbed."I didn't know…"
Badr al-Din lifted him.
"Now you do."
The broken family was whole again.
Shams al-Din went to the Sultan of Egypt and told him everything.
The Sultan listened in silence.
When it ended, he rose from his throne.
"By god," he said,"no tale in my kingdom is more wondrous than this."
He ordered a great celebration.
He restored Badr al-Din's honor.He named him a noble.He gave him wealth, robes, and servants.
Ajib was declared the true heir of two Wazirs.
And Sitt al-Husn was crowned in beauty and dignity.
That night, in the same chamber where Fate had once played its trick,husband and wife slept together again —this time without jinn, without magic, without fear.
Only love.
Only truth.
And far away, in the unseen world,the soul of Nur al-Din smiled.
Years passed.
Badr al-Din Hasan rose in Egypt, not by magic or miracle,but by wisdom, kindness, and the blood of good men in his veins.
He became a counselor to kings.A man whose words carried weight and mercy.
Sitt al-Husn ruled beside him — not as a shadow,but as a flame —graceful, sharp, and deeply loved.
Ajib grew into a young man known across Cairo for his beauty and fire,but also for his honor.He never again forgot where he came from.
Sometimes, when the palace was quiet,Badr al-Din would walk alone through the gardens and whisper:
"All this came from one night…and one book of fate."
When Caliph Harun al-Rashid heard this story from his Wazir Ja'afar, he was deeply amazed and said,
"Such stories deserve to be written in gold."
He then showed mercy.The slaves were set free, and the young man who had once suffered so much was given a monthly allowance so he could live without worry.The Caliph also gave him a companion from his household, and the young man was welcomed among the Caliph's close companions.
And so, after all the sorrow and wandering, his life finally found peace