"So, what did you mean when you called Azraq your brother?"
I follow the kid, and curse him in muted tones. I am sure he can hear me, as he keeps snickering every time I call him names. He walks fast, while I struggle to keep up my pace. Each step feels like a burden, the weight of my suspicion and slight anger press down on me with every stride.
"You didn't answer my question," I remind him and earn another snicker.
"I called him my brother because he is my brother Or sister. However you want to imagine," he says yelling.
"There it is, another puzzle for me to solve."
He turns so abruptly that I stumble back some steps. "Look," he says in a cold tone, "a spirit has no gender or name. So, it doesn't matter how you imagine them. They can be men, women, little girls, unicorns, or ladybugs. In this case, you have given him a male name. So now, he is my brother."
