Three days later, Khisa could finally stand.
The healers had wrapped his side in fresh linen and forced him to move slowly, but his determination could not be bound by pain. Each step felt heavy, his muscles trembling as though he were walking through mud. Yet he refused to stop.
When Amadi saw him steadying himself against the wall, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"You soldiers are all the same," he muttered. "You wake from death and immediately think you’re ready to conquer the world again."
Khisa managed a weak grin. "Just need to see someone, Doctor." Fresh chapters posted on novｅlfire.net
Amadi gave a resigned nod. "At least take the cane. Try not to tear your stitches; I don’t fancy stitching a prince twice in one week."
Khisa accepted it and made his way through the quiet hallways of the infirmary. The lamps burned softly, their glow spilling across the polished stone floors. He passed beds lined with recovering soldiers, each one saluting weakly when they saw him.
When he reached the far end of the ward, he saw her.
She lay on a small cot by the window, her body wrapped in bandages. Her face was still bruised, her eyes slightly swollen, and one of her hands was bound tightly, the fingers splinted and stiff. Yet even in that frailty, there was an unmistakable strength in her posture.
Khisa paused in the doorway, watching her breathe. For a moment, he remembered the day she first came to him, a thin, trembling girl with eyes full of fire, begging to be trained with the Shadows.
"I want to be strong," she’d said.
And she had become just that.
Faizah stirred slightly, sensing someone near. Her eyes fluttered open, and when she saw him standing there, she gasped softly.
"Don’t get up," he said quickly, lowering himself into the chair beside her bed. His voice was calm, almost fatherly. "You’ve done enough fighting for now."
She tried to smile but tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.
"I heard what happened from Zara and the others," Khisa said, his tone low and heavy with guilt. "You endured pain no one should ever face. Thank you... for being so brave, Faizah."
Her lips trembled as she tried to respond, but the words caught in her throat. A tear rolled down her cheek before she spoke, her voice soft and shaking.
"I didn’t think I’d survive," she whispered. "There were moments I wanted to scream, to give in, but... I remembered what you told us, that we fight so others don’t have to. That Nuri’s strength is built on sacrifice."
Khisa’s chest tightened. "I’m sorry," he said quietly. "I’m sorry for putting you in that position. I know this isn’t what you imagined when you chose to follow me. You should never have suffered for my vision."
She shook her head slowly, tears falling freely now.
"No," she said firmly, voice gaining strength with each word. "You saved me from hell. I was a slave before you found me. I thought I would die serving men who saw me as nothing more than property. But you..." she paused, her voice breaking, "...you gave my life meaning. You showed me that I could fight, that I could matter."
Khisa swallowed hard, his eyes burning.
"You gave me the strength to walk a different path," Faizah continued, her words trembling with conviction. "Because of you, I can stand with warriors. I can learn, grow, protect. You are to me what Nuri is to the world... hope out of despair, light out of darkness. To see your dream become real... that is my life’s mission."
For a long moment, Khisa said nothing. The silence between them was heavy, yet filled with emotion neither could contain. He looked at her, this young woman who had been broken by the world and rebuilt herself under his vision and pride swelled in his chest.
He reached out and gently clasped her uninjured hand. "Then I promise you this," he said softly, "I will protect you. All of you. The Shadows have carried the weight of Nuri on their backs, and it’s time I bear more of it myself. I need you, Faizah. I need all of you, for Nuri to become the beacon it was meant to be."
Faizah’s tears flowed freely, but her smile was steady. "Then we will follow you, Prince. Wherever your path leads, the Shadows will walk behind you."
Outside the room, four figures stood silently in the corridor, Zara, Kiprop, Ole Samoei, and Onyango. They hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but none of them could bring themselves to leave.
Through the half-open door, they heard Khisa’s quiet vow and Faizah’s tearful reply. For a moment, none of them spoke.
Ole Samoei finally broke the silence, his deep voice almost reverent. "He doesn’t just command us... he believes in us."
Zara’s eyes glistened. "And that’s why we’d die for him," she said softly.
Kiprop crossed his arms, jaw tight. "No dying," he muttered. "Not yet. We’ve got a kingdom to build."
Onyango nodded slowly. "A kingdom worth the blood we’ve shed. We have been through battles in Abyssinia and Kongo together, he never doubted us, even when we left home at just fifteen, he taught us, left us to fend for ourselves when he was not that much older than us himself."
"Even as children, he always seemed to see further than the rest of us. His vision will come to pass and I will gladly fight for it." Kiprop said.
They exchanged a silent look, each one feeling the weight of what they had just heard. The loyalty that bound them was not forged from fear or duty, but from something far deeper, respect, purpose, love for a shared dream.
As Khisa’s quiet laughter drifted faintly through the door, Zara smiled faintly and whispered,
"Then let’s make sure he never carries that dream alone again."
The four shadows turned away, their footsteps echoing down the hall, hearts burning with renewed resolve.
In that small medical room, amid the scent of healing herbs and soft candlelight, the future of Nuri quietly strengthened once more.