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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.

Malika didn't look back at her advisors. She focused on the horizon, where the smoke of burning villages stained the sky. queen_malikamp4

That night, under the cover of a sandstorm, Malika didn't wait to be attacked. She led the vanguard. As the Stalkers’ camp came into view, Malika felt the fear of her youth vanish, replaced by the crushing weight of her responsibility—and the fire of her destiny. The dust of the savannah hadn't settled, but

"Queen Malika, your people are scared," Prime Minister Gidi said, his voice trembling. "They say it is time to surrender the eastern grain stores to buy time." Malika didn't look back at her advisors