Malika turned, her eyes reflecting the orange glow of the distant fires. She gripped the hilt of her ancestral blade, The Sun-Shard .
The dust of the savannah hadn't settled, but Queen Malika stood unmoving atop the highest terrace of the Azzazian citadel. Below her, the coalition of tribal leaders argued, their voices rising like the desert wind. They doubted the 17-year-old queen could hold the line against the encroaching Fire-Stalkers. queen_malikamp4
"The Fire-Stalkers believe they are fighting a girl," Malika told the leaders. "They will learn they are fighting the dragon of the savannah. We do not hide behind stone walls. We ride." Malika turned, her eyes reflecting the orange glow
She descended the stone steps, her armored skirts clinking. As she reached the center of the gathering, she drew the blade, the metal catching the setting sun. Below her, the coalition of tribal leaders argued,
She ordered the falconers to dispatch the signal, not to retreat, but to advance.