''....We're officially bankrupt."

One night, her father entered silently, dragging his feet one after the other. His features, which always appeared older than his age, were downcast. He was a man in his mid-fifties but looked like he was in his seventies, with gray hair advancing faster than her mother's, who was in her fifties.

It was his habit to enter quietly and greet, and although he didn't like to interfere much in household matters and was usually silent, on that night his lips uttered only one calm greeting. Her mother immediately understood and didn't argue with him as usual or chatter on, for she was always the one talking about people's affairs, who got married, who had children. He, on the other hand, had always been silent, and although he pretended to read the newspaper, Daliah always felt that her father listened to her mother's chatter. She seemed to be his only window to the latest news of family life. He was a quiet person, not much of a talker, unable to congratulate this and that until he knew some information from his wife.

Yet she did not stop herself from asking him hesitantly, "What's the matter, Jareer?"

"We have nothing left here, Taaj," he said quietly. "We're moving to the Red Shores."

Her voice was hoarse, mixed with shock, as her eyes fixed on her husband.

"I've put everything into it. We're officially bankrupt."

That was the first time she had heard about the Red Shores after years, a place name she had only heard in her father's stories when they were children. It was dazzling when she was young, and as she grew older, she thought to herself that her father must have been a novelist!

So imagine her astonishment when, in a moment of despair and utmost seriousness, he mentioned the Kingdom of the Red Shores! Doesn't that make it real?

Her mother didn't say "stop joking" or anything of the sort. The two of them were serious in a way that rendered her unable to express herself. They had already started packing clothes and ordered them to do the same. Her mother also donated some furniture and sold the rest, so that only the bags containing their clothes remained in the house. Her father glanced at those clothes and let out a sigh. "Even though you won't need those either."

"Why?" asked Yamen, the youngest son of the couple, who was eighteen years old.

"The clothes of the kingdom are different," Zahra questioned, her tone unconvinced. "Are we going to stay there forever?"

Jareer shook his head, lips curved. "Why not? That's your homeland."

"I'm supposed to start university this year," Yamen added.

"Do you have the money? Don't worry, universities there are free."

There was silence. Her mother lowered two large, heavy suitcases, calling her husband and only son to help. "What's in these two suitcases?" Jareer asked his wife.

"My belongings," she replied.

Daliah didn't bring much with her; her bag was small, handheld, containing essentials, some books, and her notebooks.

An hour later, the carriage arrived to transport them. It resembled a small truck, its windows tinted black as if they were being smuggled. Daliah asked her father with little hesitation and doubt, "Are we being smuggled?"

"Of course. The public shouldn't know," he responded.

Daliah fell silent, finding her father's words illogical. The small truck headed towards one of the deserted docks, surrounded by shipwrecks and their remnants. Amidst the wreckage stood a massive wooden ship with circular windows along its decks.

The ship had a captain dressed in old Arabic attire: a white turban, a blue coat over a white robe, and peculiar shoes. The man looked as if he had stepped out of ancient Arabian tales, which astonished the three children.

"What is he wearing?" Yamen exclaimed in amazement.

"This is what you will wear, my dear son. This is the attire of the Red Shores Kingdom."

...☆☆☆☆☆...

It was a long journey, spanning three months from disbelief at the speed of events until their feet touched reddish-purple sands, with yellow trees and orange shrubs ahead of them.

"Welcome, my children, to the Kingdom of the Red Shores."

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