The world was divided into four great continents, four pieces of land so different from one another that sometimes it seemed impossible they existed under the same sky. There were the frozen peaks of Norvyr, the endless forests of Erelth, the golden cities of Sahrûn… and then there was Helastra, where I was born.
Helastra was known for its endless dunes, sandstorms, the heat that could rip the air straight from your lungs… but also for the oases that turned certain regions into unlikely paradises. That was where the Solar Kingdom of Aramyra lay, famous and envied for its reserves of fresh water, clear rivers, and abundant harvests. All because Aramyra was part of an ancient alliance with Gaeloth, a northern nation that exported grains and agricultural technology.
While other kingdoms in Helastra rationed water and dreamed of rain, Aramyra displayed fountains in public squares and handed out honey bread during festivals. Pure luxury. The kind of luxury that only exists because someone, somewhere, is paying the price for it.
And that "someone," according to every story I grew up hearing, was the Empire of Saqar, the empire lost at the heart of the burning desert.
Saqar, a mysterious empire surrounded by walls that gleamed like bronze under the sun. They said its cities were built with carved stone, its temples decorated with jewels pulled from the depths of the earth, and its warriors strong enough to crush armor with their bare hands.
They also said no one but them survived for long in that hellish desert where there were no rivers, no rain, nothing that wasn't devoured by sand. And that in the last fifty years, a terrible drought had consumed everything. The Grand Oasis dried up, caravans perished, and even the desert beasts began migrating away.
As for the people of Saqar… well, to the rest of the world, they were nothing but savages.
Barbarians.
Creatures of muscle and no brain, incapable of refined magic, incapable of etiquette, incapable even of civilization, or so the stories went. I had never seen one myself.
I heard all these tales when I was a child, some whispered in taverns, others told as legends, but I never knew whether any of them were true. And now Mira trembled at the thought of seeing me in their hands.
"Asha… please…" she sobbed. "You don't understand what they're going to do to you."
"Mira, calm down… are you sure about this?"
I swallowed hard. Understand? Oh, I understood. The problem was that no matter how afraid I was of Saqar, no matter how much I wanted to run away that very moment, if this was His Majesty's will, I had no choice. If I tried to escape now and the guards caught me, my head would end up on a stake beside the front gates sooner or later.
"Yes! I heard the king's advisors talking in the corridors," she insisted, her voice trembling. "They were laughing, saying no one would miss you."
My stomach twisted. Amazing how a few words can hurt more than direct threats.
"Mira… what do you want me to do? They'll hunt me down if I run. You know that."
Suddenly, another loud bang reverberated against the door, this one stronger. From the sound of it, someone had kicked the wood.
"Miss Ashael Kalevra, by direct order of His Majesty, King Corvin Aramyra III, you are being summoned for immediate presentation before the throne. Open the door!" a male voice commanded from the hallway.
Mira flinched on the spot, turning to me.
"It's Salazhar… the Captain of His Majesty's Knight Order. Asha, what do we do!?"
Salazhar Hakai. I had never spoken to him, but I didn't need to. Everyone in the palace knew the man in silver armor, broad-shouldered, with a gaze as sharp as the blade he carried. They said he never hesitated when following a royal command, whether it meant crossing an enemy border or dragging someone down the corridors. If he was here for me, none of this was a good sign.
"I shouldn't be here," Mira whispered, her face growing even paler. "If they see me in this room with you–"
"Then don't be," I cut her off, grabbing her by the arms and practically shoving her toward the wardrobe. "Get in. Now."
"Asha–!"
"You can yell at me later. Go." I yanked open the wardrobe door and pushed her inside before she had time to argue. I closed the wood gently, leaving just a small gap so she could breathe.
I heard Salazhar dragging something, or someone, on the other side and slamming it against the door.
"Open it. Now!"
The metallic sound of a key sliding into the lock echoed through the room. With a muffled click, the door swung open sharply, slamming against the wall beside it.
Salazhar entered first, imposing in his heavy armor. Behind him came three knights, equally armed, and lastly a thin butler who trembled so much he nearly dropped the ledger he was holding. I only noticed the purplish bruise on his cheek when he lifted his face out of reflex upon seeing me, quickly lowering it again, as if afraid he'd be punished just for being there. I didn't need an explanation. Salazhar was also known for his temper and his lack of patience, and that poor man had experienced it firsthand.
"Is there a problem, sir?" I asked, adjusting the hem of my dress and staring at him.
He took a few seconds to scan the room, as if looking for something, or someone.
"No. My apologies, miss. I simply thought we had an issue here."
"And? Have your concerns been dismissed?"
"Yes… my apologies. The King wishes to see you immediately."
Before I could even react, two of the knights moved toward me. They didn't give me a second to breathe, let alone protest. One of them grabbed my arm — too tightly to be considered courteous — lifting me as if I were just another package to be delivered.
"Hey!" I tried to pull back, but his hands were like iron claws, locking me in place with a single grip.
"Be careful with her," Salazhar ordered, though he didn't exactly sound concerned. His tone was more like someone instructing not to damage the goods before presenting them to the buyer.
The butler flinched even harder at the sound of his voice, keeping his head bowed.
"Let's go," one of the knights grumbled, dragging me forward. The door nearly slammed into my leg as they pulled me into the hallway, and I had to quicken my steps just to avoid stumbling. The pain in my wrists came fast as his gloved fingers dug into the bone.
"I can walk on my own," I growled through gritted teeth, trying to yank myself free.
"Orders from the Captain," the knight muttered, unfazed, still dragging me anyway.
As we passed through the doorway, I caught a glimpse of the wardrobe where Mira was hiding. I could almost feel her heart pounding in sync with mine. I shot her a look, one I hoped she'd understand at a glance.
Stay there. Don't make a sound.