Land of Heathens

Chapter 1 - Breaking News

The small living room glowed with the soft orange tint of evening, the curtains half-drawn as Navir, Nimi, and Mehrak lounged together on the couch. Their laughter filled the room, rare, easy, the kind Argathe didn’t hear much anymore. Navir leaned forward, his scarred forearm catching the light as he shook with laughter. Nimi, wedged comfortably between the boys, nudged Mehrak with her elbow, grinning as she smacked his arm.

“Did you see his face? That expression was priceless!”

Mehrak groaned. “Nimi, you’ve pointed out the last three expressions. Can we just watch the show?”

The sitcom hit its punchline and all three dissolved into another wave of breathless laughter.

And then,

The TV froze.

Nimi stopped mid-giggle. “Hey… what happened?”

The screen flickered once, twice, then cut abruptly to black. A red banner appeared at the bottom:

BREAKING NEWS.

Mehrak jabbed the remote. “No, no, don’t do this now, ”

The banner’s glow deepened like a pulsing heartbeat.

“Turn it up,” Navir said quietly.

The picture sharpened. A reporter appeared, standing stiffly before a row of government offices lit by dim streetlamps. Her eyes carried a tired unease that immediately tightened the air in the room.

Nimi whispered, “Why does she look like that?”

“Quiet,” Navir murmured, leaning in.

The reporter cleared her throat, but her voice broke on the first syllable. “We interrupt regular programming to bring urgent news from the northern district.”

Even the room seemed to still.

“A young Argathe scholar was found dead earlier this evening…”

Nimi’s breath caught. “Who?”

“Liora Danesh,” the reporter continued, steadying her voice. “Twenty-two years old. A rising mind in national energy research. Her innovations had drawn international attention, ”

She paused, swallowing hard.

“Authorities confirm the cause of death was poisoning. The substance was delivered in a close-contact setting. Investigators suspect the perpetrator was someone familiar to the victim.”

The silence in the living room deepened.

Nimi’s fingers tightened on the couch. “Poisoned…? Someone close…”

“Don’t start solving cases,” Mehrak muttered, nudging her.

She nudged him back, eyes trembling. “This isn’t funny.”

Navir’s gaze didn’t shift from the screen. “Liora Danesh did more for the country at twenty-two than most do in a lifetime…”

The reporter pressed a hand to her earpiece and continued. “In other news tonight, rising unrest and worsening shortages have sparked another series of localized disruptions. Residents are advised, ”

Mehrak groaned. “Can’t they ever bring good news?”

Nimi hugged her knees. “First Liora… now this?”

Before Navir could speak, the overhead bulb flickered.

Once.

Then again, harsh, sharp, throwing jagged shadows around the room.

“Is it the power again?” Mehrak asked.

The TV stuttered, the reporter’s voice glitching: “further updates, residents are advised…”

A new red banner rolled across the screen:

NEW EMERGENCY ALERT IN EFFECT…

Navir barely had time to register the words when the kitchen door eased open.

Arisha stepped in.

Her gray scarf was slightly askew, as if she’d rushed, but her posture was stiff, controlled. The click of her shoes was enough to silence all three.

“What are you three still doing up?” she snapped.

Nimi jumped. Mehrak straightened. Navir sat rigid.

“Final exams are tomorrow!” She continued, “Do you really think staring at screens all night is going to help?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. She crossed the room, reached behind the TV, and flicked the main switch. The screen died instantly.

“No more TV. Not tonight.”

Navir opened his mouth. “We were just…”

“You.” She pointed at him. “Study. Now.”

Navir swallowed whatever defense he had. Nimi and Mehrak exchanged looks.

“We… should probably go,” Nimi murmured.

Arisha didn’t have to say anything. Her expression did the job.

The two hurried out the door and slipped on their shoes.

The house fell into heavy silence.

Arisha stared at Navir a long moment, an unblinking command.

He turned, heading down the hallway, each step slower than the last. The weight of the news clung to him: Liora Danesh. Poisoned. Someone close.

At his bedroom door, he paused, exhaling.

But before he could close it fully, a low, urgent voice caught his ear.

Arisha.

“No, listen to me,” she hissed into her phone. “I said don’t bring that into my house again.”

Navir froze.

Her footsteps paced, fast, tense.

“I don’t care who you’re dealing with. Do not bring it here.”

A beat. A sharper whisper:

“Do you understand me? Not again.”

The call ended with a hard click.

Navir stood motionless in the dim hallway, his hand still on the doorknob.

Again?

The word echoed through him long after her footsteps disappeared.