When my skin is not my own and the heart is tainted, there is still one thing that will always belong to me. My soul! No more shall it weep in the darkest of nights but it shall become a beacon of light for all those who cannot see. I am a warrior...
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Balencia's espresso-dark eyes flared with embers of amber, simmering like coals in the depths of a firestorm as her gaze locked on the soldier—a man who had committed unspeakable horrors against Imani. Rage sharpened her vision, turning her presence into a shadowed specter in the gloom, waiting, calculating.
The soldier stood alone, tall and rigid, trying to mask himself as a pillar of strength, though in truth he was the very ruin of innocence, a silent predator cloaked in self-deception. He sensed something lurking, his eyes darting to catch movement in the shadows. His stance faltered, and he barked out with a tremor rippling through his voice.
“Who’s there? Show yourself!” His words echoed, thinly veiled with bravado, but the layers of fear were unmistakable, as though he could feel the ghosts of his sins closing in. He knew, deep in the crevices of his rotting conscience, that this day would come—a reckoning he’d hidden from for too long.
Balencia emerged from the shadows, her curls tumbling down her back, catching the wind as if they were dark waves stirred by an unseen storm. Her violet gown swept over the ground like a silent curse as she advanced, eyes fixed on the man before her with a deadly calm.
“WHO ARE YOU!” he yelled, his voice growing shriller with panic as he took in the deadly femme fatale, her stride unwavering, each step deliberate, devoid of fear. Even Musabah, watching from afar, was spellbound by the beautiful yet fearsome warrior.
Balencia sighed, a sound that sliced through the air. “Lower your voice, soldier. There’s no one left to hear your pleas.” Her eyes narrowed, twin blades of fire piercing him where he stood. The soldier recoiled, his gaze flitting around, desperate for some unseen ally, some miracle.
“Tell me,” she continued, her voice soft yet razor-edged. “How does it feel, to stand alone with no one to shield you? How does it feel to taste fear?”
“Who—who… who are you? What do you want?” he stammered, his confidence disintegrating like ash.
“Tell me, how many lives have you stolen pieces from?” Balencia’s voice was so low it was nearly a whisper, swept away on the icy winds that coiled around them. The soldier’s eyes widened, a sickening realisation settling over him as he staggered back, the truth of his deeds laid bare.
“How long…” Balencia tilted her face towards the moon’s pale glow, her voice dark and haunting. “How long did you believe you could carry on, leaving lives in ruins, without consequence?”
She continued, her words falling like a spell into the night, “She confided her sorrow to the moon, washing its face with her tears. She told it of the darkness you cast over her, of the weight too heavy to bear alone. The moon listened, carrying her broken heart, her shattered honor. She fled to the ocean, weeping until the tides themselves grew furious and asked her, Who hurt you? The waves promised her vengeance—to drown the guilty, to consume them whole.” And in that moment, mama suffered the same fate at the hands of these cowards, Balencia thought to herself.
The soldier’s terror broke, his voice rising in desperation. “Wha—WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!”
He shifted his stance, feigning readiness, but Balencia could see the way his feet edged away from her, how the glint in his eyes betrayed his fear. He had no intention of fighting; he only wanted to flee.
“Silence, soldier!” she roared, her voice a thunderclap splitting the darkness as she lunged forward, her grip finding his throat, yanking him close. “So small, yet your crimes have touched the depths of the sea. I am your ocean, soldier,” she hissed, as a golden light began to pulse through her veins, rising up her arm and illuminating her hand where it clutched his neck.
The light surged forward, spilling from her fingers into his skin, unstoppable as two oceans meeting yet never mixing—until now. The golden light pierced him, coursing through his body like a vengeful lightning strike, paralysing him instantly. His body hit the ground with a sickening thud, jerking, spasming under the weight of her power. He wanted to scream, to beg for mercy, but the light had sealed his voice, trapping him in silent agony as the punishment he had long evaded took hold.
"I don’t care to know your name, soldier, and no one else will either. But the last name you’ll ever hear is mine! I am Balencia! And I am your reckoning in this life." Her voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Rest assured, my light won’t grant you death easily—but it will grant you suffering's end.” The queen of lightning raised her emei piercers, her hand a blur as she slashed his throat in a swift, merciless strike. His trembling ceased, his once-violent form finally still, never to harm the innocent again.
Musabah emerged from the shadows, his gaze fixed in awe on the warrior who now stood amid the faint glow of dust settling in her wake.
"I don’t believe anyone as powerful as you exists, my queen,” he murmured, astonished.
Balencia’s expression remained steely. “I am no queen, Musabah, but a warrior in the service of the one God.” She raised her hand, and her radiant light burst forth, turning the soldier’s lifeless form to drifting grains of sand, swept away by the wind. Now, his fate would be forever hidden, erased like whispers in a storm, she thought with grim satisfaction.
She strode swiftly back to the grand hall where Laham and his men waited. As soon as the king’s eyes fell upon her, he rushed over, his face twisted in petulant anger.
"Where have you been? My threats mean nothing to them! They’re refusing the treaty, ignoring my demands! You promised it would work!” he whined, petulant as a spoiled child denied his wishes. Balencia’s patience thinned, the urge to make him vanish like the soldier simmering within her. But she knew she had to wait—just a bit longer.
She laughed, a low, sardonic sound. “Did you really think they were part of my plan, Laham?” She watched his face darken in confusion, then light up with dawning realisation. “By now, the whispers of your treaty have already reached Queen Qasin's gates. She won’t risk being left out—she’ll come to you, of her own accord.”
Just then, one of Laham’s soldiers burst into the room, breathless and wide-eyed. “My king! You must return to the kingdom immediately! Queen Qasin demands to see you!”
Laham’s face lit up, and he turned to Balencia with a smug grin, basking in the victory he thought was his alone. His men, equally surprised, glanced among themselves, marveling at how this woman could craft such a cunning plan.
Balencia laughed darkly, taking in their expressions of foolish pride and bewilderment. “You’ve ruled all these years surrounded by weak men who know nothing of true power.” She leaned forward, eyes glinting with a fierce promise. “But now, you’ll witness the force of a Queen.”
Her voice echoed through the hall, filled with satisfaction and steely resolve as she prepared for the storm she’d set in motion, knowing none of them could comprehend the full scale of what was coming.
