As they disembarked from the ship, Malin and Maya were met by a figure standing at the edge of the docks—a man with a commanding presence and a sharp, assessing gaze. Malin didn’t recognize him, but Maya’s expression shifted to one of irritation.

“Meet our new companion,” she muttered begrudgingly.

Malin's eyes narrowed in recognition as he drew closer. This man, with his proud bearing and the faint air of arrogance, was none other than Abel, the abandoned son of the Sultan. The realization took him by surprise, leaving him feeling both awe and uncertainty.

Malin glanced at Maya, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Do you… know him?” he whispered.

Maya shot him a look, her tone curt. “We have a history,” she said, offering no further explanation as they closed the distance.

Abel's gaze lingered on Maya, a complex blend of emotions flashing in his eyes before he turned his attention to Malin, his face unreadable. He made no acknowledgment of Malin's identity, treating him merely as a stranger. Instead, he glanced back at Maya with a raised brow, almost as if he were waiting for an explanation.

“I have something for you,” Maya said, pulling out a folded letter sealed with the Princess’s mark. “From Nahra. It explains everything you need to know—and why we need your help.”

Abel’s face shifted subtly at the mention of Nahra, a flicker of recognition sparking in his eyes. He recalled the strange encounter he’d had with the man who called himself the Son, the unsettling power that had held his sword without flinching. He hadn’t mentioned this encounter to anyone, yet here he was, being pulled exactly where he was told to go.

Maya narrowed her eyes slightly, suspicious. “What are you doing at the docks, Abel? No one told us you’d be here.”

Abel scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t need anyone’s permission to be where I please. Let’s just say… I had a feeling I’d run into someone interesting today.”

He took the letter from Maya, his face unreadable as he broke the seal and began to read. His eyes moved over the words, his expression shifting slightly, though he did his best to mask it.

To my dear brother Abel,

I know that receiving a letter from me is perhaps the last thing you expected, and likely even the last thing you wanted. It must be strange to hear from the sister you haven’t seen in so long, the one who was left to grow up in a palace while you wandered far from home. But please, allow me a moment of your time, for this letter carries a plea I never thought I’d make. It is a plea born of love, both for our kingdom and for someone who, in his own unexpected way, has given me hope that things might finally change.

First, let me tell you of the events that have led me to write to you. It all began when a young man named Malin Osuninya entered my life. You’ve likely never heard his name before, for he is not one who would have crossed your path in our circles. Malin is a simple baker from the heart of Bulsi-Jan, raised without noble blood or royal heritage. Yet, despite the humble life he leads, he possesses a heart more noble than many of those I’ve met within the palace walls.

Through circumstances I could hardly believe myself, Malin created an audience with Father, the Sultan. He stood before the throne, defiant yet respectful, speaking words none of us dared say aloud. He told Father that he had been sent by The Origin, a Most High that he claims guided him to recover the fabled Sword of Righteousness, the very blade that our grandfather wielded in his final battle. You know the stories well, I’m sure, of how the sword vanished in the lost city of Shar-Kesh. Malin declared that he would retrieve this relic, and that if he did, Father would grant him my hand in marriage and the throne itself.

Now, I know how absurd this must sound—a common baker attempting to retrieve a relic that countless warriors and nobles have perished trying to find. But Malin is unlike anyone I’ve ever met, and he carries with him an unshakeable belief that this journey is his calling. More than that, I believe The Origin, the divine presence he claims guides him, has set this path before him. Perhaps you scoff, but after witnessing things I cannot explain, I am beginning to believe that there are forces at work beyond our understanding.

But there is more at stake here than just the sword or my own happiness. The Kalkan Federation, our kingdom, stands at a crossroads. With Father growing older and the ambitions of men like Aza threatening the integrity of our land, I fear that if things continue as they are, we will lose everything our ancestors fought to build. Aza is cunning, and while he wears the mask of a noble suitor, I know his ambitions are ruthless. He desires not only power but complete control, and I fear for the future if he ascends the throne unchecked.

I write to you now because I need you, Abel. I need my brother who was once a part of this kingdom, who carries within him the strength and spirit that Father once admired. I am aware of the pain and bitterness that linger between you and our family, and I do not wish to dismiss or diminish it. But I ask you to look beyond the past, beyond the years of estrangement, and see what could be possible if you returned to us now, at this critical juncture.

Malin cannot do this alone. His heart is brave, but he is untested, and the path he is about to walk is fraught with danger. Shar-Kesh is no mere ruin; it is a place shrouded in ancient mysteries and guarded by forces that have repelled countless explorers. He will need guidance, strength, and protection. He needs someone who understands both the heart of a warrior and the heart of a brother—a man who, despite all else, carries the blood of the Kalkan line.

In my heart, I know that if you accompany him, if you lend him your strength, there is a chance he will succeed. This mission is not just about reclaiming a sword. It is a test, a quest that will determine the future of the kingdom. Should Malin return victorious within the next month, he will not only claim my hand in marriage but also ascend to the throne. And should that come to pass, I will ask him to end your banishment, to restore you to your rightful place beside our family.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Imagine it, Abel—a future where you are no longer an exile, but a prince once more. A place in our home, reunited with Father, and with me. I know that I am asking you to take an enormous risk, to trust the words of someone you have never met. But I also know that deep down, you are not the man the kingdom whispers about. You are more than the mistakes of your past, more than the rebellion that cast you away. The blood of our forefathers, of those who defended this land, flows within you, just as it does within me.

If you choose to accept, here is what awaits you. You will travel with Malin and Maya—my friend I know you share history with before, and who, despite her reservations, has agreed to assist us. Together, you will venture south to and across the Kalkan Desert, through Carabesh, and finally to the lost city of Shar-Kesh. This journey will be gruelling, testing not only your strength but also your spirit. Malin will need your wisdom, your experience, and your resilience. I have no doubt that this quest will require every skill you possess and every ounce of courage you can muster.

This mission is your chance at redemption, Abel, a path not only to aid our kingdom but to reclaim the legacy you were born into. Our father’s love may seem distant, and his disappointment may weigh heavily on your shoulders, but know that he has never forgotten you. The kingdom still remembers your name, and so do I. You are my brother, no matter what has passed between us, and I still hold a place for you in my heart.

If you choose to walk away, I will not hold it against you. I know the bitterness that lingers and the wounds that time has not healed. But if there is any part of you that still yearns for what we once shared, for the family and the kingdom that still waits, I ask you to come back to us. Not as a soldier or a stranger, but as a Kalkan. As my brother.

In the end, the choice is yours. But should you decide to join us, you will find me waiting, as I always have been, hoping that one day you would return. Together, we can restore what was lost, mend the fractures of our family, and build a future that is worthy of our heritage.

Please consider this, Abel. For our family, for our kingdom, and for the future of us all.

With all my heart,

Nahra Kalkan

Abel took in Nahra’s words carefully, the weight of her letter evident on his face. He folded the letter and turned to Malin, studying him for a moment, his gaze sharp and calculating.

"So," he said, voice steady but with a touch of bitterness, "is it true? That if I help you, it’ll end my banishment?"

Malin blinked, caught off guard by the question. He hadn’t known about this condition, but after a brief hesitation, he nodded with determination. “Yes, if that’s what the Princess promised, then I’ll keep it. I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen… and frankly, I could use all the help I can get.” He offered a small, nervous grin, attempting to lighten the tension, but Abel's expression remained serious.

Abel absorbed Malin’s response, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "This mission is practically suicide, you know that, right? Finding the Sword of Righteousness in Shar-Kesh? The last thing anyone ever found there was their own grave."

Malin shrugged, forcing a bit of his usual cheek into his tone. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I didn’t exactly pick this as my first adventure. But it sounds like a challenge, and I’m nothing if not stubborn.” He gave a playful wink, though inside, he felt the gravity of what Abel was saying.

Then, unexpectedly, Abel’s gaze shifted toward Maya, something hesitant and vulnerable flickering in his eyes—emotions that seemed almost foreign on his otherwise guarded face. “One more condition,” he said, his voice lower, his eyes fixed on her. “If I do this… you have to give me another chance, Maya.”

Maya stiffened, clearly taken aback. She looked at him, her own surprise mingling with something unresolved in her expression. "Another chance?" she echoed, folding her arms defensively. “Abel, after everything? You just think you can walk back into my life?”

Abel’s usual arrogance softened for a moment, his voice taking on a genuine tone she hadn’t heard in years. “Look, I know I screwed up, and I’m not asking for everything to go back to how it was. But maybe… maybe we could start over, even just as allies. Maybe even friends.” He paused, glancing away before continuing, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I haven’t forgotten what we once had, Maya.”

Maya shifted uncomfortably, her expression torn. “You left, Abel. You walked away from the kingdom, from everything, without so much as a goodbye. And now you’re back just because Nahra asked?”

Abel clenched his jaw, visibly struggling to find the right words. “I left because I was angry, and I know that doesn’t excuse anything. But… things are different now. I’m here, trying to do the right thing, for once. Maybe that’s worth something.”

Maya held his gaze for a long moment, her defenses wavering before she finally sighed, looking away. “I’ll… think about it,” she replied, her voice softer, though still guarded. She didn’t want to let him back in so easily, but part of her couldn’t deny the sliver of hope his words had sparked.

Abel nodded, as if her answer was enough for now. He extended his hand to Malin, his gaze finally shifting back to the young baker. “Abel Kalkan,” he said, properly introducing himself for the first time, his tone steady and respectful.

Malin took his hand with a firm shake, a small grin breaking through. “Malin Osuninya. Just a baker, but apparently on my way to being a hero,” he said, his usual cheekiness returning as he met Abel’s intense gaze. “And hey, I promise to try not to get killed before we even get to the sword.”

Abel’s lips twitched into a reluctant smirk, clearly finding Malin’s attitude both amusing and surprising. “We’ll see about that, Baker Boy,” he muttered, though there was a hint of respect now that hadn’t been there before.

Maya rolled her eyes at the exchange, a slight smirk on her face as well. “Alright, enough of the bromance. We’ve got a desert to cross, and the sun’s not going to wait.”

Abel nodded, his expression hardening back into a look of resolve. “Right. No more time to waste. We head straight into the desert; every hour counts if we’re going to make it to Shar-Kesh and back in one piece.”

Malin adjusted his pack, taking a deep breath as he looked out toward the endless stretch of sand beyond the city’s edge. He couldn’t shake the nervous excitement bubbling within him, knowing this was truly the start of something he could never have dreamed up in his small bakery back in Bulsi-Jan. With Nahra’s image fresh in his mind and Maya and Abel by his side, he felt more ready than he had just hours ago.

The trio set out, Abel taking the lead with an air of authority. Together, they stepped beyond the city limits, leaving behind the safety of Laza-Farim and venturing into the vast, unforgiving desert, the start of a journey that would test each of them in ways they could never have imagined.