The wind carried the scent of blood and burning wood as Zaria and her warriors rode away from the ruined village. The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the golden dunes. Silence hung over the group—each warrior lost in their thoughts, in the weight of what they had seen.
Zaria rode ahead, her mind racing. The Empire of Zolm had made its move, but why attack a small village instead of launching a full-scale invasion? Was this a warning? A distraction?
She needed answers.
As they neared their next resting point—a small oasis surrounded by jagged rocks—one of the scouts, Adu, pulled his horse alongside hers.
"Princess," he said in a low voice. "Something isn't right."
Zaria narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
Adu's gaze darted around before leaning closer. "The tracks at the village… they were too clean."
Zaria frowned. "Explain."
Adu hesitated, then spoke in a hushed tone. "Bandits leave chaos. War parties leave destruction. But this? It was precise. Almost staged."
Zaria's fingers tightened around the reins. "Are you saying someone inside Zambura wanted this to happen?"
Adu glanced around again, then nodded. "I don't know who… but this was not just Zolm's doing."
A chill ran down Zaria's spine. If Adu was right, then someone within her own kingdom had orchestrated the attack—someone who wanted war.
She turned to her warriors. "We camp here for the night. No fires. Double the watch."
The men exchanged uneasy glances but obeyed.
As darkness settled over the desert, Zaria sat alone by the water's edge, staring at her reflection. If there were traitors within Zambura, she would find them.
And when she did… there would be no mercy.
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