Queen_malikamp4 -

Malika didn't look back at her advisors. She focused on the horizon, where the smoke of burning villages stained the sky.

"Surrender is not a strategy, Gidi. It is a waiting room for death," Malika said, her voice calm but carrying across the terrace, silencing the argument below. queen_malikamp4

The dust of the savannah hadn't settled, but Queen Malika stood unmoving atop the highest terrace of the Azzazian citadel. Below her, the coalition of tribal leaders argued, their voices rising like the desert wind. They doubted the 17-year-old queen could hold the line against the encroaching Fire-Stalkers. Malika didn't look back at her advisors

Malika turned, her eyes reflecting the orange glow of the distant fires. She gripped the hilt of her ancestral blade, The Sun-Shard . It is a waiting room for death," Malika

She descended the stone steps, her armored skirts clinking. As she reached the center of the gathering, she drew the blade, the metal catching the setting sun.

With a roar that outdid the wind, Malika breached the camp. She was no longer just a ruler; she was the warrior she was born to be.

"The Fire-Stalkers believe they are fighting a girl," Malika told the leaders. "They will learn they are fighting the dragon of the savannah. We do not hide behind stone walls. We ride."