1218-10-10
Loret :
We march. We march, and we march toward a city I haven't seen since I was a child. Momba—a place of memories. A palace I once thought would bring peace, a common cause, or so I believed. But now, it's all clear to me. There's a single truth that rules this world—the privileges of those in Maranona, the coldness of Eleanor, the hatred of Rali, the heat of Sha'tar, and the seas of Khiz. A single truth that encompasses it all. I spoke to A.
"Strength. Power is the only thing that matters in this fractured world. A world where, if you have nothing, you'll be forgotten. You'll be betrayed, time and time again. Trust no one," I told him. I smiled, watching him closely.
"Do you lie to me, Loret?" he asked. A's purple gem-like eyes shining in the sun.
I felt a pang of guilt. A reminder of my failures. Eyes—eyes are some of the most important things in this world. The color can mean so many things. Where you're born, who you'll become. Eyes are the gateway to the soul, a window to opportunities unseen by those around us. A hidden boundary.
We continued marching, though our pace had slowed. Kell was by my side, the soldiers following behind. Our men—our able, began to march slower as well.
"Peace means nothing," I muttered to myself.
"No one here wants peace," I added aloud. "They want to prove themselves better than each other. They want to prove that they can kill others in the fastest way possible."
My father used to tell me stories—stories of a power that only a few could activate. It was a power so ancient, only the chosen could wield it. A power that came from within—Edicts. He spoke of it often, but he never used it. He never stopped his death with it. Why? Why didn't he protect himself? After his death, I wasn't able to bury him. Soldiers in blue and white came and took his body. I always wondered why they knew. It was like his death had been written in a book that anyone could read. A predictable event. A date known to all.
The heat of the savanna burned down on us as we walked toward the inland of Ghar, passing abandoned tribes and the bones of dragons and animals that had died in the harshness of the land.
Kell spoke, his voice low. "Do you think he'll join us?"
Honestly, I replied, "I don't believe so."
"If there's a fight," he said, "I'll defend A to my dying breath."
"You won't need to," A mocked.
"Don't get overconfident. This is Zara's father. He's very strong."
"Sure," A replied dismissively.
"Hey, A," Kell said, looking at him. "How are you feeling?"
"I feel better," A sighed, his voice heavy.
Days passed after meeting with Kuzan. A writhed in pain, his body still aching from the attack. He said it felt like hundreds of thousands of needles piercing his chest. The pain was unbearable. Yet, he continued to train, though his body screamed for rest.
We finally made it to the outskirts of the city. A man was waiting for us. He stood tall, his hair braided, and his Taji covered with dots—an adult warrior from Krain.
"Welcome, Loret," he said, his voice tired but firm.
He turned, and we followed him into the city. Momba was made of sandstone, unlike the cities I had seen in my youth. There was a small farm to the north, and a wall was being built of sticks and stone. Construction was still underway. It had a raw, unfinished feel to it. The city is growing.
He led us to a large circle of stones, where soldiers and weapons were left outside as a sign of respect for the meeting. Zara sat outside. There was a smile on her lips as A looked at her. The two exchanged a glance, and A smiled back.
Zara was about to follow behind, but Krain turned and glared at her.
"Stay outside," he commanded.
We stepped into the room. I could feel the weight of what was to come. Inside, Zahra was already seated.
Zahra is beautiful. Her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Her eyes were sharp. Filled with a warmth that made her seem inviting. I couldn't let myself feel that way.
My mind raced, but I kept my eyes on A, trying to ignore the connection he shared with Zara.
The time for words was coming, but the silence between us said everything already. The city, the battle, the pain—it all swirled together. We were left to figure out how we fit into it all.
"Join us," I stretched out my hand to him. "Old friend."
His eyes flickered with uncertainty before narrowing.
"Lucky. That's all it is. You got lucky," he spat, "Everything I have, I worked for. Nothing came easy. I didn't sit on my hands and wait for fortune to fall into my lap."
I clenched my jaw. My grip tightening around the dagger at my side.
"Lucky?" I repeated. "I didn't get lucky. I fought for everything—same as you."
"Ooh, that dragon," he laughed. "You really think you could kill a dragon?"
"You're not strong, you're not a dragon killer."
"Why should I care for your opinion on facts?"
"Your allies will crumble when you die. Kell will betray your people and kill your son when you're gone."
"Kell could have betrayed me long ago."
"You think I don't know betrayal?" he laughed.
Kell stayed silent.
"Betrayal? Don't pretend to understand," Krain laughed. "Your father betrayed mine. And now you're here, acting like this is all some noble cause."
"You think peace will save us? Peace?" He continued.
"Your recollection of the events is incorrect," I said, watching him. "I watched your father kill mine, and I forgave you. I watched my brother die to a dragon, and I forgave you. What have you done for us, your friend?"
"That was years ago. And you're still clinging to it."
"You know damn well what I'm trying to do here." Kell shot back.
"You think Zahra and I want to fight? You think we're here for glory? We're trying to rebuild. Ghar was never meant to be a wasteland. They want to make it look like this city—the one you're clinging to—is something we should all strive for."
"You think it'll be better if we just bow down and pretend everything's fine?" I asked. "You want us to bend and do nothing?"
"I want to continue fighting the powers that are watching, wanting us to fight. So let's ."
Kell's voice rose. "I don't want this place to burn to the ground. I've seen it all. If there's one thing I know, it's that we need peace. Not war."
"What the hell do you know?" Krain mocked. "While you were sleeping, playing around on the lake, I was fighting, I was working on insurances. It's you who wants to conquer the rest."
I stayed quiet.
"Be honest with me—when was the last time one tribe fought another?"
We both stayed silent
"Exactly. No one's fighting, but we're fighting enough for us to seem primitive. That's what we need until we get more powerful."
"What about the innocents? What about those who will die?" I yelled. "Women, children—dragon attacks, they're devastating."
Krain laughed, a dark, hollow sound.
"Your third daughter was sold for a better life, Loret. Your brother, Krain—how much do you really care about the people here? If you could escape, you would. You know it, and I know it."
"You don't get to talk about my family," Krain muttered, his fists tightening. "Quit running your damn mouth."
But then, in the next instant, he was stepping forward, his voice still cold, but with an edge of sorrow. "You're right. Peace... maybe we both need peace. But it's not coming with us fighting each other. And you...you need to stop hiding behind lies. There's more at stake here than you realize."
His words lingered in the air like a bitter taste.
Krain drew a knife from his belt. His movements are sharp, quick. The blade gleamed as he placed it to Zahra's chest.
I jolted up.
"Stop," Krain growled.
My eyes widened as Zahra's breath caught in her throat. I turned, fury rising in me. "Why? Why don't you care for her?" I demanded, my voice breaking.
"You took everything from me, and now you're going to take her?"
"All you've done is blame others for the hand you were dealt."
Krain stabbed the knife through Zahra's chest. She fell back. The force of it sent a shockwave through the air.
"No," I whispered, barely able to breathe.
"Zahra," I muttered over and over, reaching out in desperation.
"Death is coming for us all," Krain said, his eyes vacant.
"A man, a king, is coming to kill us. Ghar was never meant to improve. Those at the top want us to suffer. They want this place to crumble."
"You killed her mother," A said, his voice hollow, cold. "You killed your wife."
"Your words mean nothing to me, boy."
The world went silent. And then everything erupted.
A jumped up, his energy a blur of gray as it leaked out of him. Without a second thought, he blitzed toward Krain. A's arm shooting through Krain's chest like a blade through paper.
Krain seemed to smile at that. A small smirk forming on his lips before he fell with a deafening thud.
"What the fuck did you do?" I shouted, rushing to A's side.
"He killed her," A shot back, his voice sharp. "He doesn't deserve to live."
I stared at A, disbelief swimming in my chest. The weight of what he said hit me harder than any blade. The world outside had already turned its back on us. We were all just pawns in a game that had no rules—no end.
"A king is coming to end it all." Krain mumbled.
The guards stood in a tight formation, eyes scanning the room with practiced vigilance.
Behind them, Zara stood tall.
"Whats going …" Zara said her eyes widened
She stared at A, who stood over her father's lifeless body. Her eyes locked with his, filled with a cold sorrow and a quiet determination.
One of the guards stepped forward, his voice steady but uncertain, as he addressed Zara. "Your Highness, what would you have us do?"
She is no longer the girl they had known. She was now the Crown Princess of New Momba.
Zara's gaze flickered to her father. She stood still for a moment. She gathered her thoughts before she spoke.
"Kill them all," she commanded.
The room fell into a stunned silence.
The guards hesitated. We glanced at each other as if unsure of their orders. Zara's eyes remained locked on A. She turned and ran toward her father, her movements swift and graceful but heavy with emotion. Tears welled in her eyes.
"You don't understand," she whispered. "I can't... I can't let him live."
"Let Loret and Kell go. I only want to kill him."
"You think they can kill me? Do you think anyone here has the power?" His laughter echoed in the room.
I finally said "I'll defend my son. If that means starting a war with your tribe, so be it."
The tension in the room grew thicker. Every person in the space was waiting for what would come next. Zara's smile twisted into something dark. The weight of her decision sinking in.
"It's death, then."
Zara's mother pulled her close. Blood pooling on her clothes. She wrapped her arms around her tightly. In a voice barely above a whisper, she said something only Zara could hear. Her words are soft and urgent. Zara nodded through her tears. Her sobs grew quieter as she clung to her mother.
Zara's expression softened.
"Let them go," she cried, her voice breaking as she collapsed into her mother's body.
"Zara, I..." A started, but she turned away.
"Leave, before I decide otherwise."