A New Refuge – Amara’s Struggle ContinuesThe sun was merciless, bearing down on the weary form of Amara as she stumbled into a bustling marketplace. Her once-radiant skin was now pallid, stretched tight over her fragile frame. The weight of her swollen belly slowed her steps, but she pressed on, desperate to blend into the crowd. It had been nine months since Lucian’s death. Nine months of running, hiding, and suffering. The sharp pangs of hunger had long become a familiar ache, her body barely sustaining the child within. She was weak, malnourished, and on the verge of collapse. The market was alive with merchants hawking goods, children darting through the crowd, and the scent of roasted meat filling the air. Amara’s vision blurred. Her breath came in shallow gasps. The sounds around her grew distant.Then, the world tilted, and she **fell.** A collective gasp swept through the square as she hit the ground. People rushed forward, whispering about the mysterious woman. A sturdy

Scene 1: The Show of PowerThe great hall of the palace was filled with tension. Nobles, guards, and commoners stood watching as Darius sat on his throne, his expression unreadable. Before him, kneeling and bound in heavy chains, were the High Chief and Chief Idowu. Their faces were bruised, their clothes torn, but their eyes still burned with defiance.Darius let the silence stretch, enjoying the weight of fear in the air. Then, he rose from his seat, taking slow, deliberate steps toward his captives.“You have ruled in my father’s time. You have served through my brother’s reign. Yet when it is my time to lead, you conspire against me?” His voice was calm, almost amused.The High Chief remained silent, his posture unwavering.Chief Idowu, however, sneered. “A man like you does not deserve the throne.”Gasps spread through the court. Whispers followed—quiet but dangerous.Darius only chuckled. He crouched before Chief Idowu, gripping his chin roughly and forcing their eyes to meet. “

Scene 1: The Ally in the ShadowsThe prison walls were damp with the stink of rot, the air heavy with the weight of lost men. Torches flickered along the stone corridors, casting long, wavering shadows as the hooded figure stepped forward.Chief Idowu squinted through the dim light, his chained hands tightening. “You…” His voice was low, filled with disbelief. “You’re supposed to be dead… or gone.”The man before them pulled back his hood, revealing sharp features carved by time and hardship. His presence was commanding, even in the flickering torchlight. His eyes, cold and unreadable, scanned the cell with quiet calculation.Lucian’s father’s younger brother.The one who had left the kingdom long ago, abandoning politics and war.“I was gone,” he admitted, his voice smooth, measured. “But I never stopped watching.”The High Chief, silent until now, finally leaned forward, his sharp gaze piercing through the dim light. “Then why return?”A slow smirk crept across the man’s face. “Beca

Scene 1: The Forgotten PrinceBefore Darius, before Lucian’s rule, before the throne was bathed in blood, there was another.Bode.A name that was whispered in forgotten halls. A prince who should have stood beside his brother, guiding the kingdom, shaping its future. But love had rewritten his fate.He had married a foreigner. And for that, he had been cast out.The law was clear—no outsider could ever be part of the royal bloodline. Not even love could challenge that decree. His brother, the future king, stood in silence as the elders passed judgment. Bode had to leave, his name stripped from history, his legacy buried in exile.He did not beg. He did not plead. He left with his head high, his wife in his arms, his child pressed against his chest.The gates closed behind him.The kingdom moved on.Time turned his memory into dust. The people forgot. The throne remained strong. And yet—The forgotten never stay buried forever.Years passed, the kingdom changed, the throne became a pl

A Warrior’s SilenceShakur sat in the dim glow of a flickering lantern, the room heavy with his wife’s frustration. She paced before him, arms crossed, her voice sharp with disappointment.“Ever since Darius became king, what have you gained?” she demanded. “You risked your life for him, fought his battles, shed blood in his name—and yet, what do you have to show for it?”Shakur said nothing, his face unreadable.His wife scoffed, stepping closer. “Does he even speak to you like before? No. He sits on his throne, drowning in his madness, while you—” She gestured at their modest home. “You are nothing to him now!”Still, silence.“You stood by him,” she continued bitterly. “You helped him take the throne. And now? He does not see you. He does not need you.”Shakur exhaled sharply. His hand reached for his cap, adjusting it with slow precision.His wife hesitated. “Where are you going?”He did not answer.She stared as he walked past her, his footsteps heavy with unspoken thoughts. The