The dawn broke over the horizon, casting a soft, golden glow over the bloodied capital of Marrakesh. As Rashid stood atop the palace's watchtower, his eyes swept across the shattered streets. The morning air felt colder than usual, and the stench of smoke still lingered from the battle the night before.

A small, elite force had gathered below—men and women handpicked by General Hassan—all hardened warriors, ready to follow their prince on this dangerous journey. Rashid descended from the tower, his mind racing with the weight of the choices ahead.

As Rashid approached his men, General Hassan stepped forward, his scarred face set in a grim expression.

"Your Highness, the preparations are complete. We leave for the Atlas Mountains at once."

Rashid nodded, glancing over the dozen warriors assembled. They were a mix of skilled fighters—some of the best the empire had left. But this wasn't just a military expedition. Their mission was one of secrecy and urgency. Rashid had told no one else of his plans, save for Hassan and Lady Safiya, who had already departed on her diplomatic mission to Granada.

"Good. We have no time to waste," Rashid replied, mounting his horse.

They rode out of the city at first light, leaving the ruins behind. As they traveled, Rashid couldn't help but feel the weight of history on his shoulders. The future of the empire rested on the success of this mission, and the Eternal Flame, the mythical artifact hidden deep in the Atlas Mountains, was their only hope.

The journey to the mountains was fraught with danger. Spanish and French patrols were scattered across the land, and bandits roamed freely in the lawless countryside. But Rashid’s group moved swiftly, avoiding major roads and relying on the knowledge of their local guides to navigate the rugged terrain.

As the days passed, Rashid grew closer to his men. He learned their names, their histories, their fears. Many of them had lost family in the recent battles, and their loyalty to him was born not just of duty, but of a shared hatred for the invaders who had torn their lives apart.

One night, as they made camp under the stars, Rashid sat beside General Hassan, who was quietly sharpening his sword.

"Do you believe in the legends of the Eternal Flame, Hassan?" Rashid asked, breaking the silence.

Hassan looked up from his blade, his expression thoughtful. "I’ve seen many things in this world that defy explanation. If the Flame can give us the power to defend our people, then I’ll believe in it. But even if it’s just a legend, we can’t afford not to try."

Rashid nodded. The general’s pragmatism was reassuring, but deep down, Rashid knew that this wasn’t just a desperate gamble. The memories from his past life told him that power could be harnessed in ways these people couldn’t yet imagine. If the Eternal Flame truly existed, it could tip the balance of power in their favor.

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On the fifth day, as they approached the foothills of the Atlas Mountains, disaster struck.

A sharp whistle pierced the air, followed by the dull thud of arrows sinking into flesh. Rashid’s horse reared back, nearly throwing him from the saddle as chaos erupted around him. Bandits had been lying in wait, their dark forms emerging from the rocky outcroppings above.

"Ambush!" General Hassan shouted, his voice booming over the din of battle.

Rashid drew his sword, his heart pounding in his chest. The bandits descended upon them with a fury, their ragged clothing and feral eyes marking them as desperate men willing to kill for survival.

The prince’s men fought valiantly, but they were outnumbered. Rashid felt a surge of frustration—this was supposed to be a stealth mission, but now they were engaged in open combat in the middle of hostile territory. His sword clashed with that of a bandit, the sharp ring of steel echoing through the mountain pass.

Beside him, General Hassan fought like a man possessed, cutting down foes with brutal efficiency. But even Hassan’s prowess wasn’t enough to hold the line indefinitely.

Rashid’s mind raced. He needed a plan, something to turn the tide. Then, as if instinctively, he remembered an old guerrilla tactic from his previous life.

"Hassan!" he shouted over the clash of steel. "Fall back to the rocks! Use the terrain to our advantage!"

Hassan didn’t hesitate. "You heard the prince! Fall back!"

Rashid led the retreat, guiding his men up the steep incline of the rocky hills. The bandits, thinking their prey was fleeing, pursued with reckless abandon. But as soon as the attackers reached the narrowest part of the path, Rashid gave the order.

"Now!"

His warriors, positioned on the higher ground, unleashed a barrage of arrows and rocks, raining death down upon the bandits below. The once-confident attackers were now trapped, their numbers quickly thinning as they were cut down from above.

Within minutes, the ambush had turned into a slaughter.

As the dust settled, Rashid surveyed the battlefield. The bandits lay dead or dying at the base of the rocks, and his men had suffered only minor injuries. He sheathed his sword, breathing heavily from the exertion.

General Hassan approached him, wiping the blood from his blade.

"A brilliant tactic, Your Highness," Hassan said with a nod of respect. "You saved us."

Rashid gave a short, grim smile. "We’re not saved yet, General. We still have a long way to go."

As they moved deeper into the mountains, the landscape became more treacherous. The air grew thinner, and the rocky paths narrowed, but Rashid’s resolve only strengthened. The Eternal Flame was close—he could feel it.

One night, while they camped near a hidden cave, Rashid had a dream. In it, he stood before a massive flame, burning bright and eternal, casting an otherworldly light over the darkened landscape. The fire seemed to pulse with power, drawing him closer.

But as he reached out to touch it, he heard a voice—a voice both ancient and powerful.

"You seek power, but power comes with a price. Are you prepared to pay it?"

Rashid woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest. He sat up, the dream still vivid in his mind. He glanced around the campfire, the faces of his men asleep in the cold night. His destiny was unfolding before him, but the voice’s warning echoed in his thoughts.

Was he truly prepared to pay the price for the power he sought?

The journey wasn’t just about reclaiming his kingdom anymore. It was about something far greater—and far more dangerous.