Chapter 9: Sulaye.

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  Kalista, Month: 94, Year: 226.

  She moved slowly, her tiny wings folded tight against her back, her short tail swaying from side to side, the soft black hairs glinting faintly. The girl squinted, her dark hair catching the breeze as she emerged from the tower for the first time. Above her, the sky blazed mercilessly.

  This was the surface.

  A dry, sun-drenched valley stretched out before her, mostly barren, vast, with some green vegetation. The heat prickled her skin, and her eyes struggled to adjust. She blinked rapidly, her gaze falling to the ground. She didn’t know if it was the sunlight, the dry air or something else that made her stomach twist.

  She had imagined this moment her whole life. The surface was supposed to be wondrous, bright and free. But this didn’t feel like freedom. It felt wrong. Wahali wasn’t here. Sulaye had promised her, promised in those secretly delivered and carefully written letters: that they would all come to the surface together.

  She had failed.

  This wasn't the dream they’d whispered to each other in the when Sulaye was taken to the palace. It wasn’t exploration or a game, it was the aftermath.

  Below her, the ground buzzed with movement. From hidden gates in the cliffs and cracks in the earth, the soldiers of Kalista poured out, row after row, their formations cutting lines across the dust. Even the tallest among them, the towering warriors who usually made Sulaye tilt her head all the way back to meet their eyes, looked small from up here.

  And the city itself remained hidden. Only the dark tips of fortress roofs and the sharp spires of scouting towers broke the surface. The rest of Kalista still lay buried, unseen beneath the stone and soil.

  At the head of the army was a single figure.

  A throne, carried on the shoulders of four warriors, each holding a pole in one hand, a black flag in the other. And seated upon it: Uquoia, First Princess of Kalista.

  Sulaye had already been made aware of the traditions: When a princess led the armies, she was supposed to leap from the highest tower and soar over the ranks, wings wide, defiant and graceful. The vision was clear in her mind: silver wings catching the light, the soldiers cheering below.

  But Uquoia didn’t fly. She couldn’t.

  The dagger had struck her chest. One of her wings hung useless at her side. Sulaye had overheard the murmurs in the halls, people whispered that even if she survived the dagger, she would not survive the poison.

  And yet… she sat upright.

  Rigid in her seat, jaw clenched, spine locked with effort. Her eyes were staring at the horizon. She looked not at the sky or the tower or the soldiers, but ahead, toward the valley, the Haksari cities that stood beyond it, in the direction of their enemy in the port of Ca?rovof.

  As Sulaye watched her now: pale, broken and defiant, she couldn’t help but remember the war meeting. She hadn’t wanted to be there, and she had said so, clearly. The chair they gave her was far too big; her feet didn’t even touch the floor. She sat there, small and silent, watching adults talk around her as if she were furniture. No one asked her opinion. No one explained anything. She tried to follow the discussion anyway, piecing together bits and fragments, but it all felt distant and meaningless.

  At the time, it seemed clear that the Second Princess -Ashani- would lead the response. But then, in the middle of the arguments, Uquoia entered the chamber.

  She had stood as tall as her broken body would allow, refusing to be left behind. Bandages still wrapped her chest. Her left wing hung stiff and ragged, the wound only half-healed. Beneath her skin, the poison still lingered, making her movements clumsy and painful. She had muttered something about honor, how the attack had been meant to kill her, and how not retaliating in person would be a sign of weakness.

  Two days later, here they were.

  Uquoia, barely healed, carried out of the city with half the army behind her, bound for the north to face the Haksari lord who had dared strike against her life and the future of Kalista.

  Sulaye looked down at the troops from her perch high above. Below, the soldiers moved in disciplined formation. The ceremony unfolded with rhythmic drums and ancient hymns, all paying homage to the warriors who were about to depart, to defend the honor and integrity of their city.

  For the final part of the ceremony, Princess Ashani stepped forward.

  She carried herself with the fluid poise of someone born to command. In silence, she took up the ceremonial cape, its edges embroidered with the sacred symbols of Kalista and God Auron. The fabric shimmered as it caught the sunlight.

  Without a word, she walked to the edge of the tower’s peak.

  Then, she leapt.

  Sulaye watched as the second princess’ body plunged downward, arms tight to her sides, cape trailing like a comet's tail. For a moment, she fell fast and silent, her silver hair streaming behind her like fire. And then, with a sudden, thunderous grace, she opened her wings.

  The light caught them as she rose. Silver wings, massive, gleaming, and powerful. Her tail curved instinctively, shifting with precision to keep her balanced in the wind. Every movement was flawless.

  Two men followed her, soaring in perfect formation. Together they swept in wide arcs around the tower, their flight both battlelike and ceremonial, a sacred dance above the gathered ranks below. Each twist of the wind, each beat of their wings, seemed to mark the rhythm of ancient prayers.

  They descended in slow spirals, wings outstretched, the wind carrying them in broad, graceful loops. Dust swirled gently beneath them as they touched down before the assembled army, before Princess Uquoia.

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  Ashani landed first, her feet light against the stone. She knelt without hesitation as the warriors lowered Uquoia’s throne to the ground. With reverence, Ashani removed her ceremonial cape and draped it across the first princess' shoulders.

  Pale, stiff, and unmoving, Princess Uquoia sat upright by sheer force of will, each minute of it a challenge. The golden fabric settled around her, flowing down her arms and back, gleaming as though woven from the ring of Auron itself. The embroidered crests shimmered in the light, catching the gaze of every soldier present.

  As Ashani and the two warriors completed their skyward dance, arcing back toward the tower in slow, sweeping turns, a quiet signal passed through the ranks.

  Sulaye was finally allowed to break formation.

  The stiffness in her arms and legs set in at once. She had stood motionless for what felt like hours, back straight, hands clasped, even her breath measured. Now, released from the ritual pose, her limbs ached, and her thoughts swirled in messy, overlapping fragments.

  She turned and stepped into the tower’s shade.

  The sudden coolness wrapped around her like water after heat. She blinked hard, the light fading from her eyes, and let out a breath.

  “Are you all right, princess?”

  Qilani’s voice was soft beside her as they stepped deeper into the tower’s shade. Her face carried quiet concern, though she tried to mask it with calm.

  Sulaye nodded, but her voice caught. “It’s just… I promised Wahali that when we finally stepped outside, we’d do it together. But they didn't let me bring her. With that and the other things that have happened… everything feels strange.”

  Qilani gave a small, wistful smile. “You know…. I made a promise like that. With my friend Lanah.”

  Sulaye glanced sideways at her. That name -Lanah- wasn’t new. Since the assassination attempt, Qilani had rarely left her side, assisting her on extra hours and even helping her sleep during the nights when she was most frightened. More than once, Sulaye had heard Qilani whisper that name in her dreams.

  “Is she the one you speak to when you sleep?” Sulaye asked.

  Qilani blinked, a little startled. “I didn’t realize I talked in my sleep.”

  “You do,” Sulaye said gently. “But I don’t mind. I was curious.”

  They continued down the spiraling stairs carved into the tower’s inner stone. The air was cooler here, much dimmer too.

  After a pause, Sulaye asked, “So… did you keep that promise? To see the surface together?”

  Qilani looked down at her hands. “No. I wish I had. But some things don’t unfold the way we imagine.”

  “Where is Lanah now?”

  A breath. A hesitation. “I wish I knew. Last I saw her… she was leaving the city, with a relic blessed by God Auron.”

  Sulaye’s wings gave a small flutter behind her back. “You mean her?” Her eyes lit with surprise. “I’ve heard people whisper about her. I heard a maid say... I wish I had her boldness.”

  A faint smile touched Qilani’s lips. “Yes. That 's her.” Her voice trembled just slightly. “I only hope she’s safe. That whatever path she’s chasing brings her peace.” She paused. “And if Auron allows it… I hope I’ll see her again someday.”

  Something shifted in Qilani’s face.

  She reached for Sulaye’s hand and gently pulled her down the final steps, then turned sharply into a narrow side passage.

  She leaned close, her voice as low as she could make it.

  “Do you want to see Wahali?”

  Sulaye froze. “But… you said it could get you in trouble.”

  Qilani’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and something deeper. “Perhaps. But aren’t some things worth that?”

  Sulaye didn’t speak out loud, but her expression said enough. She smiled and gave a little skip as she prepared to follow Qilani.

  Before they stepped into the crowd, Qilani pulled a folded cloth from her bag and draped it gently over Sulaye’s wings. Then it was just a matter of slipping into motion. They bent low and moved with the tide of people. Qilani led the way at first, but once they reached the winding streets near the palace, Sulaye took over.

  Just a couple of weeks ago, she wasn’t Princess Sulaye of Kalista, she was simply Sulaye. These streets, these statues, the luminous fungi, they had been her playground. Her feet knew the way by heart, and Qilani followed close behind.

  Sulaye slipped into the children’s living quarters unnoticed, blending in with a group of young ones returning from afternoon lessons. Qilani lingered behind, distracting the caretaker with a polite question and a carefree smile.

  Inside, Sulaye’s heart leapt as familiar voices and faces surrounded her. Her friends squealed with excitement, forming a tight circle around her, tugging at her sleeves and peppering her with questions.

  "Is it true you saw the surface?"

  "Was it bright? Did you see Auron?"

  "Tell us everything. Like in your letters!"

  Then, after a short while, a familiar voice rose above the chatter.

  “Sulaye. I heard you came to visit.”

  She turned. Wahali stood at the edge of the crowd, smiling.

  “I did,” Sulaye said, grinning. “But… I’m not exactly allowed.”

  That earned a round of giggles, and the group continued chatting until, slowly, the others drifted away, called to chores, naps, or duties.

  In the quiet that followed, only Wahali remained.

  “I’m sorry,” Sulaye said softly. “We didn’t get to go outside together, like I promised.”

  Wahali shrugged. “That’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not,” Sulaye insisted. “How can I make it up to you?”

  Wahali tilted her head thoughtfully. “You don’t have to. But… if you really want to, maybe when your wings and tail grow strong, you could fly me around the valley?”

  Sulaye’s eyes lit up. She smiled wide, heart swelling with the image of soaring over the rivers and valleys, holding Wahali, who knows how, the wind in their faces.

  She held out her pinky.

  “Promise?”

  Wahali linked her own. “Promise.”

  Sulaye slipped away quietly, retracing her path. She expected to find Qilani waiting in the shadows of a side alley.

  But her confident smile rapidly disappeared when instead of finding Qilani, she found a tall figure standing right outside. A warrior, clad in the formal uniform of Kalista’s elite guard. One arm was wrapped in linen bandages. She walked with a cane, her injured arm close to her body.

  Sulaye froze. Her heart stammered.

  They’d been caught.

  “I… please,” Sulaye said quickly, “don’t get Qilani in trouble. She was just trying to help me.”

  The warrior raised a hand gently. “She’s not in trouble. And neither are you, young princess.”

  Her voice was even, calm. “I’m Captain Tekira.”

  She stepped forward, her cane tapping lightly against the stone. “We’ve asked Qilani to accompany us to the guardhouse. Just some questions. I stayed behind to escort you home.”

  Sulaye walked alongside her reluctantly, eyes flicking up now and then. The captain was even taller than most of the other guards, and that was already a lot, broad-shouldered and had a scary face, but she was trying to act as comforting as possible towards her.

  “Questions?” Sulaye asked quietly. “What for?”

  “Her friend Zulanah took a relic. One blessed by god Auron, from the temple and without permission."

  She paused.

  “It isn’t… a crime. If a relic chooses you, then it belongs to you. Therefore, according to the laws of Auron, it's not stealing. But with everything happening lately: the attempt, the tension with the Haksari, the higher-ups want to rule out any connection.”

  “She’ll be back soon,” Tekira added. “This is just procedure.”

  They walked a few more steps. Then Tekira said, with a softer edge, “And as for your little escapade; I won’t lie, but I’ll leave out anything that might get either of you punished.”

  Sulaye exhaled, her steps easing.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  They walked in silence for a time, the streets quiet around them.

  Then Tekira stopped.

  Her expression shifted, alert, focused and suspicious.

  “Where did you get that toy, Your Highness?”

  She said as she pointed to a small object hanging from a cord near Sulaye’s waist, a wooden boat, smooth and painted red, dangling from a chain, her voice suddenly full of authority.

  Sulaye blinked. “This?”

  She lifted it in her hand, confused. “I found it in Wenari’s things. She was my assistant for… maybe a week? Then she suddenly reported being sick and quit.”

  Sulaye paused and held it up. “It smells nice.”

  Tekira stepped closer. She took the toy carefully and brought it to her nose.

  A flicker passed across her face. Her posture tightened.

  “It’s wood,” Tekira said, almost to herself. “Wood from the surface.”

  Sulaye tilted her head. “Is that… bad?”

  Tekira didn’t answer immediately. Her fingers closed around the toy as she had finally found the missing piece of a puzzle.

  Finally, she looked down at Sulaye, her voice crisp and formal once more.

  “Princess, please. Tell me everything you remember about Wenari.”

  And as they resumed walking, Sulaye did.

  To First Princess Uquoia of Kalista,

  I watched you from the tower today. You looked strong, even though I know you’re hurt. When I saw you sitting tall like that, with the wind in your hair and the cape around your shoulders, I thought: That’s what a real princess looks like.

  I know we’ve only spoken a few times, but I hope you know that if I were older, or wiser, or had stronger wings, maybe I would go with you. But I can’t, so instead I’ll do what I can from here: I’ll pray to Auron that you return safely, that your pain fades, and that you soar the skies again very soon.

  Please be careful. And please come back soon.

  With hope and admiration,

  Sulaye of Kalista.

  Qilani's Campaign.

  Chapter 10: Zulanah (Part 1).

  Thank you very much for taking the time to read my story.