It all started more than half a century ago, back in the reign of my mother, the sultanah Kira-al-Ydaz. Not many people remember it after decades of peace, but this country used to be quite belligerent. Kyra was not a good ruler. Yes, she managed a lot of victories in battle and gained the country a lot of land, but beyond that, she was useless. What good does more sand do to a country? A unified desert does nothing, but fertile land is what matters. A warrior shouldn’t be a ruler, that was something I always told myself.

Back then I was a hopeful teenager, yet to learn the many truths of our family or lose my virginity, my mind was great and always looking for knowledge, I couldn’t be more unlike Kyra. Education laws were also lacking if not null in that time, so my older siblings saw my intellect as something to be fostered. Yes, my siblings, not my mother. I doubt she knew the names of half of us.

Now, it wasn’t like my siblings were magnanimous. They knew how succession worked, only the most powerful or influential sultanzade would be the next Sultan or Sultanah. But I, a Nurtureless teenager, wasn’t considered a menace, not yet. And by making a scholar out of me, they would have another enemy less to worry about.

As you may see, shot them right in the back.

Returning to the story, I was sent to the University of Asina, the oldest institution in the country. There, even as a teenager, I excelled. Not that surprising when I had a better education than most of the professors and scholars there. Funnily enough, I decided to specialize in education. My mother’s stupidity always enraged me. Yes, she won battles, but they were costly and she employed moronic strategies, if they could be even called that. She only won through sheer force.

I vowed to myself to make Ydaz a wiser country, not dictated by strength but by intellect.

Why are you surprised? Haven’t you seen what I have done with this country? My children are more knowledgeable than the brightest minds of Khaffat, and the average citizen is literate. All foreign countries want a piece of the intellect in Ydaz. You see, countries are ruled by minds and stomachs. If your country cannot feed its people, it will disappear, but the Sultans already took care of that. Everyone was more stupid back then, so I proposed to myself to make intellect an export.

And it worked.

The greatest export of Ydaz right now isn’t glass or gems, but skilled manpower. Half of the merchants in other countries are Ydazi because most people out there don’t even know basic mathematics. Kings, Dukes, Bishops... all have Ydazi people in their courts because we are just more educated.

All of this started because I hated my mother.

Now, with all of this in mind, you can understand how I became prominent in scholarly circles. Aaliyah Asina, the greatest scholar of her age, they said!

And they were right.

I fomented knowledge, and the knowledge came back to me.

It was during that time, barely years since I became my crusade of knowledge, that I met them.

Umar and Karaim.

They were a duo of peculiar scholars. They had a fascination with plants that I had never seen before. The gardens of the university became more vibrant since they arrived, and as a seeker of any knowledge, I talked with them.

I expected tactics on how to revitalize ground and cultivate with greater efficiency, but instead found blossoming minds.

Whilst Umar was older than me, Karaim was around my age, the son of a landlord. More of a farmer than an actual noble. His goal back then was simple, take more use of the poor and barely arable soil of his terrain and grow crops. He hoped that with more crops, their family could sustain their terrain and become real nobles. Those greedy goals slowly shifted with time.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Umar was more of a mystery to me, that was why I stayed, to decipher that coolheaded man who had more bloodthirst than my siblings. Umar didn’t care about quantity, but quality. He wanted better and more efficient plants, he specialized in medicinal plants, you see.

An apothecary, a farmer, and a princess.

The perfect start for a joke, don’t you think?

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. What surprised me about them is that they progressed, thanks to me they got a sample of the sultanah’s blood, and they experimented and examined what made a single drop turn fertile for a while. By themselves alone, they discovered vitality. Or rather, they rediscovered it, it wasn’t a secret to me, after all.

But you already know that, don’t you?

Don’t act surprised, Ayad. I can feel your heartbeat accelerating. I know you are familiar with vitality. I can even sense your stance.

Hmm, that actually surprised you? Maybe that moron didn’t tell you all. He probably just experimented with you without you knowing about it.

We have deviated too much from the main subject.

Where I was? Right, vitality.

It was then that I decided to share a bit of my knowledge with them. I hid it as if it were new discoveries, but Umar saw through my lies, it was then that I discovered he was a hashashid. I managed to fool Karaim for a while, though.

With our three minds combined, we discovered more about vitality than anyone else before. Ydaz was already the leading force in vitality, other countries barely knew its existence or kept it so hidden that the knowledge died with their owners. Our governmental structure and carnal religion are mostly to thank for that initial progress, other countries got held back by opposite ideas of vitality. Imagine your own belief being antithetical to power. Laughable.

I used our investigations to advance what the imperial family knew about Nurture, now even the simplest of concepts seem trivial, but back then they simply didn’t exist. A cultivator of this age could give previous sultans a run for their money.

Wait, you don’t know what Nurture is? Rani left you in the blind too? Poor girl. I thought we were on an equal playing field, but it would seem I overestimated you too much. Eh, doesn’t matter. Knowledge is power, but an ant cannot topple an elephant.

I suppose Rani didn’t tell you either about Enlightenment? Yeah, guessed us much.

Anyways, Umar used our findings to develop Enlightenment to greater heights. I think that was the beginning of the end of our understanding, the three of us. The assassins won more from those discoveries than the cultivators did.

A few months later, having grown fed up with the assassin business, I gave Umar an ultimatum. My reputation was too big by now and he knew he couldn’t assassinate me without consequences. And he knew that I would kill him without a doubt, him and every assassin-adjacent individual in Asina. Their tumor had gone long unchecked by the disaster of my mother. Asina would not become another assassin stronghold.

For better or worse, the division between us would sour his relationship with Karaim, and he needed him more than I. In the end, we separated. Umar and Karaim run away together to Sadina, the latter unable to comprehend what was happening.

However, the story didn’t end quite there. The reason why we had fallen out of grace was mainly because of me, of my last action.

Karaim had a talent for manipulating vitality, even if his reserves were pathetic. Even worse than the average child. But I had yet to increase my own then. So his last favor was to dote me with a stance. A second stance.

Those shining eyes... you don’t know about it, but you have an idea of what I’m talking about, right?

I was left alone in Asina then. But I was magnanimous and managed to get Karaim a sizable coin purse and a family name. For Umar? I kicked him in the balls, but unlike Karaim, that wouldn’t be the last time I would see him. Oh no, it wasn’t.

As for me? A few years later, after reaping, training, and putting into practice our discoveries... I killed my mother.

How come that face? You surely already know how the story goes.

Obviously, that made me Sultanah. Whilst not as strong as my siblings, I was more intelligent. And more versatile. Not only did I know more stances, but I could use more of them. But I’m not a warrior, but a scholar. And after having spent years with a hashashid at my side, I had tactics that didn’t involve violence. Only blood.

Subterfuge isn’t the tool of the cowards but the shrewd. Remember that.

I poisoned a third of my siblings, beat another third into a pulp, and then terrified the others into submission. Some left the country, others died – whether it was on battles I sent them to or through other means – and the rest I kept as emirs to help me rule the land whilst I didn’t have descendants. You are already acquainted with one of them, Yusuf-al-Sadina. How ironic that the emir of the old regime that lasted more was assassinated just a few years ago. Not even death could kill that hardass, only a blade.

Well, that is my story, girl. And of your grandfather. Which I may note, he told you less than I expected.

Now, do you have something to tell me?