One Of Us Will Die.

ANCIENT TIES

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بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الرَّحْمَنِ الرَّحِيمِ

Princess Asiya rested her head on the lap of her Great-guardian, Sayidi Ismail, as his frail fingers wove gently through her hair. His touch was soothing, but the weight of his lessons pressed upon her. Tonight was another night of training-another night of sharpening the weapon she had become.

The fireplace crackled, casting a golden glow that danced along the walls. Their shadows flickered, stretching and shrinking like whispers of the past. Sayidi Ismail sat at the edge of her bed, his voice deep and steady as he hummed her favorite bedtime poem:

"Even in the face of distress, Bahamians stand strong,
We are people of courage and resilience.

The past shall come to pass, those who hurt our kingdom will bleed in pain and misery.

The blood of our prince shall be avenged,
The princess of Bahamia will bring justice to her people.
Asiya Muhammad Abdallah will fight for her people."

She had heard these words every night. They were more than a lullaby-they were a promise, a prophecy. For years, Sayidi Ismail had molded her into a warrior,

And now, the moment had come.

"You leave at dawsk, Fakhr Qalbi," he said, his voice low but firm.

Asiya hummed in response, tapping her fingers in a soft rhythm against the sheets-a habit when she was lost in thought.

"Remember, Fakhr qalbi," he continued. "You will infiltrate their land, destroy the prince, and end him-end everyone who stands in your path-your destiny.

You destroy them, just as they destroyed our kingdom."

"I know, Nur 'ayni|light of my eyes," she murmured, her golden eyes fluttering open. She turned to him, studying the deep lines of his face, each wrinkle a testament to the years of war and loss.

"This will be an easy task," she promised. "I will ruin the people of Almania until nothing remains of their kingdom."

Sayidi Ismail's expression darkened with caution. "Do not underestimate him, Fakhr qalbi," he warned. "The prince of Almania is neither easily killed, nor outwitted."

Asiya's gaze burned with resolve in response. "Trust me, Nur'ayni. I swear upon the blood of those who have fallen-I will bring justice to our land."

.....

Zayid Umar Jallal al-Amir (زايد عمر جلال الأمير) sat towards the edge of his king-sized bed, surrounded by the opulent silks and velvet drapes that adorned his chambers. His head bowed down, and his shoulders squared in confidence. He thought deeply about who would be appointed as the new head guard of the palace.

The soft glow of the morning sun cast a warm light on his face, illuminating the determined look in his eyes. He needed someone strong and ferocious, but most importantly, he needed someone he could trust.

Today marked the long-awaited Al-Basuit ceremony, a grand event held once every four years on the fifth day of the season's cycle. On this day, a new head guard was chosen to serve and protect the kingdom of Almania.

The last appointment, however, had ended in betrayal-the former head guard betrayed the kingdom by selling critical information in exchange for gold to its enemies. But Alas, nothing went beyond the Amir's eyes, and he died a cruel death.

The memory of that treachery still weighed heavily on the Amir's mind, making him even more determined to choose a successor he could trust.

Many people from across the kingdom would come to compete in sword fighting, archery, horse riding, and other activities to test their strength and showcase their talent. They would fight and combat against one another, their skills and powers on full display.