That night, the city of Naran groaned under the weight of silence, as if the sea itself had held its breath. Azamir sat on the roof of their house, staring anxiously toward the eastern horizon, where in the evening he had spotted a ship with a strange flag making its way to the port of Drienasas.
The flag fluttering on its mast was unfamiliar: blue fabric with a yellow six-petaled flower at its center. It was neither the sultanate's flag, nor the emblem of the duchy's merchants from the east, nor even the banner of the Nauern Empire.
When the ship touched the pier, its sailors extended a massive wooden gangway toward the dock. It was wider than usual, as if they expected not just men to cross, but something heavier… perhaps crates, devices, or even creatures.
The port guards stood in confusion, their commander's eyes fixed on the emblem engraved on the ship's bow in a strange language: Halethar.
An old man from the port's people whispered, his face pale:"Halethar…"
But no one replied. Fear was speaking on everyone's behalf.
An hour later, a messenger arrived from the ruling palace carrying a sealed decree from Prince Azar, father of Qays and Azamir. He stood before the gangway and called:
"Guests of the empire are requested to attend a banquet with the lord of the province, and any inspection process is to be halted until further notice."
These orders only deepened the guards' suspicions; ships arriving from the east usually underwent strict inspection, especially if they flew obscure symbols.
A middle-aged man with silver hair and a deep blue armor stepped forward from the ship and descended with confident strides.
Qays entered upon his father quickly, worry written across his face:"Father, this is not a trade delegation… it's a scouts' or spies' ship. No ship flying Halethar's emblem has entered the eastern seas since the treaty recognizing the sultanate's founding sixty years ago. I request your permission to summon the Draughtborn Slayers from Naran, and to establish a secret gangway behind the port to monitor what comes in and out."
Azar lowered his head for a moment, then said slowly:"Do it… but without them noticing."
At that time, Azamir had returned to the mosque, where the children gathered around Sheikh Tir. But the sheikh did not begin the lesson with the story of the first sultan this time; instead, he began with a single phrase:
"The six-petaled flower… is not the symbol of a state, but of an ancient legacy, older than the fall of Halethar."
He went to the stone wall, where faded carvings were almost worn away, and pointed to a faint drawing:"When the Halethar Empire fell, its sciences scattered across the land. But some kept what should never have been kept."
Then he pulled a leather scroll from under the floor tiles and spread it before the children. It bore a map of a single massive continent, with the flower's seal at its center."Those who claim to be the new Halethar… are not mere heirs. They are keepers of what should never again be seen. If they return, it will not be for peace, but to reclaim their ancestors' legacy—out of greed and power."
Azamir stepped closer and asked softly:"Are they dangerous?"
Sheikh Tir answered:"Danger does not always come from the sword, my boy… but from the past, when it is opened without wisdom."
Then he carefully folded the scroll, returned it to its hiding place, yet handed it to Azamir with a trembling hand.
In the shadows, the Draughtborn Slayers, led by Officer Larem, Azar's brother, moved toward the secret rear gangway. The orders were clear: no engagement, only observation.
But when they arrived, they noticed something suspicious…The deserted gangway was freshly wet, as if someone had just used it.
In the palace, the torches lit the banquet. The silver-haired man sat at Prince Azar's table, his eyes fixed on the map of the sultanate behind the throne. He said with a cold smile:"You imprison your land within lines, while we… set our lands free from their cages."
Qays said coolly:"And what is the reason for this sudden generosity of hospitality?"
The man laughed with disdain:"Barbarians never change… they don't even know the simplest courtesies."
Qays's eyes flared with anger, but he kept silent.
The man continued:"The new Halethar Empire does not seek bloodshed. We offer you a simple choice:
Surrender your lands,relinquish your authority,disband your armies,submit to the empire.
In return, we will not attack. You may continue to worship your gods, we will impose moderate taxes… and take a hundred of your men each season to support our lands."
Azar laughed bitterly:"So you want the land, the people, the souls… and all we get is a slave's contract?! What you want is war, not peace."
The man replied with a dry smile:"I knew it… barbarians do not know the value of the empire's generosity."
But suddenly, at the same moment the Draughtborn Slayers were watching the port, the unexpected happened.
In the palace courtyard, a servant was found dead, the moonlight reflecting off his body…Then—BOOM.
The ground shook.A wave of fire tore through the stillness of the night.The port… destroyed.The warehouses… ablaze.The ships… burned.Even the city's wall… collapsed.
The ship had been rigged with explosives.
Screams rose, alarms blared, and the screech of falling stones filled the air. The banquet turned to chaos in an instant.
Qays drew his sword and shouted:"Treachery! Seize everyone in the hall!"
But the silver-haired man did not move; instead, he whispered with a calm smile:"We have drawn our borders… and you have not seen the pen."