The air in the grand hall had barely settled after the meeting when General Kassim’s voice rang out, cutting through the murmurs of the departing leaders. “Badr, you stay.”
Badr paused mid-step, turning back toward the general. His demeanor remained calm, but his mind began calculating. “Yes, sir,” he replied smoothly, stepping forward as the others filed out.
The room emptied quickly, the echo of heavy doors closing behind them leaving only silence and the faint clink of a teapot as Kassim poured two cups of steaming tea. He gestured for Badr to sit.
The general’s sharp eyes studied him over the rim of his cup. “Mr. Chedi Blee is someone known for hosting events like the one you’ve proposed,” Kassim began, his tone casual but carrying an undercurrent of authority. “He’s arranged duels before—between humans, of course.” The general chuckled dryly. “Nevertheless, he’s an expert in logistics and crowd management. You’ll learn a lot from him.”
Badr nodded, his posture respectful. “Understood, sir. I’ll try to talk to him.”
“You won’t have to try,” Kassim said, setting his cup down with a deliberate clink. “I will inform him myself of your arrival. Be there tomorrow at nine o’clock sharp. He’ll be expecting you.” The general’s piercing gaze softened slightly, and a rare smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “And dress nicely, Badr.”
Badr suppressed a chuckle. “Oh, okay… yeah, I’ll make sure of that.”
Kassim leaned back in his chair, his expression shifting to something almost fatherly. “One more thing. From now on, you’ll have a new place to stay.”
Badr’s brow furrowed slightly, but he kept his tone light. “Well, sir, I appreciate it, but I like my current place. It keeps me close to the people, lets them see that I’m working for them. I’m but a servant to these people.”
Kassim’s approving nod was brief but genuine. “That’s the attitude to have,” he said. “But regardless, you’ll be moving into the house I’ve arranged for you. It’s temporary, of course—just until you get your shit together, kid.”
The last remark earned a chuckle from Badr, feeling he had no choice in the matter he said “Thank you, General. I’ll make the most of it.”
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The mansion stood tall against the darkening sky, a relic of the old royal family. Its grandeur was undeniable, with intricate carvings along its stone facade and sprawling gardens that hinted at a forgotten era of opulence.
As Badr arrived, escorted by a contingent of guards, a small crowd had gathered at the gates. Their murmurs of awe turned to cheers as he stepped out of the carriage. The guards parted the way, and for the first time in this world, Badr felt the weight of true recognition. The people smiled at him, their faces lit with hope and admiration. Yet, beneath that, he sensed the sharp edge of expectation.
He entered the mansion, greeted by a line of servants. Their bows were synchronized, their movements polished and efficient. One of the maids stepped forward, her demeanor poised but warm. “Welcome, sir,” she said. “Allow me to show you around.”
The mansion was spotless, its grandeur overwhelming. Ornate chandeliers of pure gold hung from high ceilings, their crystals refracting light into soft rainbows. Each room was adorned with rich tapestries and polished wood, the air scented faintly with lavender. The maid led him through the winding halls, pointing out rooms prepared for him: a lavish bedroom, a study, and even a private bathing chamber.
“Impressive,” Badr said, his voice measured despite his awe. After months of living in squalor, the stark contrast was disorienting.
As they returned to the main hall, he paused. “I’m tired. Could I have dinner?”
“Of course, sir,” the maid replied with a smile, her tone almost maternal. “I anticipated you might be hungry,”
He was led into a dining room where a table was already set. Within moments, a steaming platter was placed before him. The dish was a striking array of colors and aromas—a mystical stew of spiced meats, golden grains, and shimmering vegetables that seemed to glow faintly under the chandelier’s light. Badr’s stomach growled involuntarily, and he dug in, savoring the rich, complex flavors. After months of scraps and barely-edible meals, this was heaven.
The maid stood nearby, waiting expectantly. “How is it, sir?” she asked, her tone eager but humble.
He smiled at her. “It’s good. Very good.”
Her face lit up, her pride evident. “I’m glad you like it, sir.” She excused herself, leaving him in the grand dining room.
Badr leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting to the golden chandelier above. Its intricate design gleamed softly in the candlelight, a symbol of wealth and power. Looked back down and saw the two guards standing at the door, “ Can I be alone please ?” They looked at each other nervously and then got out.
He let out a slow breath, his mind returning to his singular purpose.
The potion.
This event he had proposed—it wasn’t about justice, nor was it about spectacle. It was about an opportunity. An event where tens of thousands of people gather together whether they are from this city or the other cities, that’s a lot of people, all of them have one thing in common and that is they hate the royal family and this system for abusing them throughout the years.
A smile creeped on Badr’s face. “ Ahh, it seems like shit is about to go down. “