The night guard was coming to an end and the morning was already very close. And there's a new day. And new labors and cares and amusements, of which there are not many in his native village in the valley of the Sunset rocks. But so far, all of Hadi's kin were asleep, except for him and two other boys who guarded the peace of the village far away on the other side.
The stillness of the night and the hundreds of stars twinkling in the black sky were mesmerizing. The boy leaned on a wooden pole that served as a fence on the protective wooden wall of the village, on which he stood and, throwing back his head, tried to find his beloved Ushas among them. Because he was a bit surprised when the air around him was filled with the hiss of a dozen flying as if from the sky the hot lights.
One of the burning arrows flew close to Hadi's head. It passed with the hum of a great wild bee, and bathed the boy's face in a wave of searing heat. His long hair hissed and his nose smelled the burning.
As they fell, the arrows struck the ground and the roofs of the great round yurts in which his kinsmen slept. Hadi shouted with all his might. Many of his family jumped out of sleep and tried to put out the fire, which with a crash devoured their cozy homes. Became as bright as day and the air around was shrouded in grey smoke.
