A/N: bet y'all didn't think I'd update so soon!!! Enjoy!!!
Stop acting so small. You are the universe in ecstatic motion.
~ Rumi
An eagle swept down the rugged mountain face effortlessly. It's wings were spread across the skies at an impressive length, and it's brilliant yellow eyes observed the land beneath it. All prey had scurried away long before the dawn. The reason was apparent- the boots of thousands of soldiers had sent a thunderous warning through the very ground.The eagle soared above their heads, black feathers casting an equally black shadow over their heads.
Falaq gazed at the eagle as it flew toward them. It was so powerful, so effortless. It was the king of the skies in this terrain, inspecting the chaotic kingdom of land below.
Falaq imagined the span of the army the eagle could see. From where she stood, it blotted out the entire horizon in black. The sound of uniform marching could be heard for the last few hours and as they drew closer, it became more deafening. It was likely they could not properly make out their small group just yet, but there was also no turning back. Falaq couldn't make out an individual face either. They all seemed to look the same from here, tall, foreboding, hooded.
"Taghrid would not have stood a chance" Ibrahim said softly to Ehsan, who only nodded once in reply.
"If they had not been our own, I would have felt true fear" Raza pronounced, "but I can only imagine the havoc they have caused"
"The move with a river of blood" Zain added in disgust, "it is not difficult to imagine the rumours that fool Zakariyya spoke of are true"
"Your loyalty lies with them now" Ustad reminded them sharply, "you must accept it. And your loyalty will be tested. Do not fail me"
"Never" they replied in unison, falling silent.
"Falaq" Ustad said in a gentler tone, "wait inside the tent. It is not for a woman of the royal house to be displayed for the eyes of the entire army"
Falaq nodded, slightly relieved she wouldn't have to engage in a staring match with a thousand men.
She settled down inside the tent, draping her skirts around her like a true lady. Strapped to her waist was a pouch of small fine blades. Inside her long sleeves were more of them. She felt slightly at ease knowing she was not defenceless.
Then it was time to wait.
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Golden Storms | #Wattys2020
Historical FictionWINNER OF READERS CHOICE AWARDS 2020 (Historical Fiction) Stone hearts. Silver to gold. And the fierce need to prove oneself. Highest ranks: #1 in Arabia || #3 in History || #51 in Assassin || #90 in Spiritual