Lion Head Mesa know me broken by my master

forgive my probably terrible translator arabic

Akhtar listens. There is a silent compassion from him that Zaahira had not yet ever seen from him. She hears her own mother tongue from his lips. He will pay, he says.
Hal tatakalam allughat alearabia? A golden glow of light, although dim, is visible on her features. 'Ant ealaa haqi. Sawf yahkam ealayh 'Uwzuris. A frothiness to her voice, bitter and stinging with every ounce of pain she had endured in the passing months. Yes, he will pay.
He offers his knowledge, his hymns, his gifts for the Gods. Zaahira is eager, staring wide-eyed and giving a profuse nod. Yes, I would like that, Akhtar, a lean onto his shoulder. Thank you.
She had almost entirely forgotten about their search for the plant.