“Sheila, please don’t do this, I’m begging you.”

The desperation in his voice was heartbreaking. She knew she was breaking his heart, and she hated herself for putting him through it.

But she had to. She had to try for herself, for her younger sister, and every other girl whose life remained at the mercy of the Zultar.

So she clenched her jaw, swallowed the lump in her throat, and mustered all the strength she had.

“I have to, Dad. I have to do this for all the girls in Valencia. If I don’t put an end to this, who will?”

He wrapped her in an embrace so tight she could feel his heart beat. She quickly wiped a tear from her cheek before he could notice.

“I love you,” she said, unable to make eye contact. “I’m going to succeed.”

He smiled, but his eyes had a different emotion.

“I know you will. I’ll see you in a few days.”

The district of Valencia had been under a strict dictatorship for the last five years. After WWVI, the continents were divided up and Valencia became one of the most oppressed territories under the rule of one man who possessed all the power, the Zultar.

The Zultar controlled everything in the district, including curfews, food allotments, and education. Rules were strictly enforced by the Zultar’s men, called Zions, who had the authority to kill any citizen who disobeyed the law, or who had the audacity to challenge authority. Life in the district was grim, and the people were miserable.

Perhaps the worst part of the Zultar’s tyranny was his demand for a new wife each and every night. Every day at sunset, a virgin was brought before the Zultar. She would spend the night with him, and the next morning, at sunrise, she would be taken away and killed by The Great Zion. This man was the Zultar’s chief. He fulfilled every order on behalf of the dictator, including the horrible act of killing the Zultar’s wives every morning. This man was also Sheila’s father, and Sheila was about to go before the Zultar as his next virgin, in an attempt to stop the unmerciful Zultar forever.

Her plan was straightforward: she would buy herself time before being sent to her death in the morning by telling the Zultar a story so intriguing he would have no choice but to postpone her demise to the next day, so he could return to her that night to hear the end of the story.

Sheila was, in addition to being extremely beautiful, incredibly clever. She was the top of her class in school and spent almost all of her free time reading and writing. She knew how to tell an engaging story, and she was confident she would charm the Zultar into unknowingly sparing her life.

At least, she hoped she would. She had to. Her life depended on it.

That night, she dressed in her finest clothes and appeared before the Zultar at sunset.

He was pleased with his selection for the evening, and she spent the night with him in his chambers. The next morning, before sunrise, Sheila asked the Zultar if she could tell him a story as he was preparing for the day ahead.

“I suppose I have nothing to do in the meantime, so you may proceed,” he said.

Sheila released a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, and sat up on the edge of the bed.

There once was a very poor man who lived in a small shack on the outskirts of a nice town. The man had very little, but he always had a smile on his face. Every morning, he would venture into town and work all day sweeping the streets for two silver dollars. This would give him enough currency to buy two loaves of bread. One he would keep for himself and eat that night for dinner, and the other he would give to the widow who lived on the corner. The widow was always very grateful for the man’s generosity, as she had three hungry children to feed and could barely afford one hot meal.

One day, as the man was walking home, a wizard stopped him in the road and demanded a day’s wages in order to pass. The man was very upset, because the two silver dollars were all he had, and if the wizard took them, he would be unable to feed himself, or the widow.

“Oh please, don’t take my money, it is all I have!” begged the man. “If you take it I will be left with nothing and will surely starve!”

The Wizard was insistent.

“If you cross my path, you must pay. Give me two silver dollars or I will kill you this instant.”

At this point, Sheila could see she had the Zultar’s undivided attention. She paused, knowing the sun was rising and the Zultar had important matters to attend to.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” he said. “Finish the story.”

Just then, a knock came at the door for the Zultar.

“I have to leave now,” he said, “but you will wait for me here today so that you will finish the story for me tonight when I returned.

The Zultar left, leaving Sheila alone in the chambers. She collapsed on the bed, tears streaming down her face. A mixture of relief and anxiety swelled inside of her. Tears began streaming down her face, releasing waves of emotion between heaving sobs. Eventually, the tears dried up and a deep slumber consumed her.

The setting sun cast ominous shadows across the room as Sheila dreamt of the next lavish tale she would use to entice the Zultar.

Author's Note: This is a retelling of Arabian Nights and the beautiful Scheherazade, who must tell stories in order to save her own life. As I was reading the story, I thought it had the perfect plot to be set in a dystopian society, so I decided to set my version of the story in a futuristic, dystopian society with a tyrannical ruler. I kept most of the other plot points the same: a young girl attempts to stop an unfair ruler by telling him a story. I had to omit a few details, like her sister coming with her, for the sake of brevity, but I think the story flows just as well without this detail. One thing I wanted to include more of that the original story didn’t have were Sheila’s emotions throughout the whole process. I can only imagine how nervous she would have been telling the Zultar a story on the morning of her scheduled death. Sheila was minutes away from being killed, and her only hope of living was hanging on her ability to distract the Zultar with a cliffhanger. She had to have been absolutely terrified that her plan was going to fail, and the Zultar would send her to her death. I really enjoyed writing this story, and I hope you enjoyed reading it.

Source:

The Arabian Nights' Entertainments by Andrew Lang, illustrated by H. J. Ford (1898).

Sheila, dressed in her finest clothes. Source Here