Rashid, Safiya, and Malik traveled through the desolate lands, making their way back to Morocco. The air was thick with tension, and though the Ashen Crown had been destroyed, its dark legacy still weighed heavily on their minds. Rashid felt a shift within himself—subtle but undeniable. The Eternal Flame had grown stronger, and with it, the burdens of leadership and the looming conflicts ahead.

The group finally approached the capital, its towering walls standing proud against the horizon. Word of Rashid’s return had spread quickly, and the people of Morocco lined the streets to greet their prince. There was hope in their eyes, but also fear—fear of the wars on the horizon, fear of their uncertain future.

As Rashid walked through the gates, the weight of his responsibilities pressed down on him. The people looked to him as their savior, the one who would lead them through the dark times ahead. But after his harrowing journey, he couldn’t shake the doubts that lingered in his mind. He had seen what unchecked power could do, and he wondered if he was truly ready to face what lay ahead.

Inside the grand palace, Rashid was ushered into the throne room, where his father, King Idris, awaited him. The king sat on his ornate throne, his regal presence commanding the room. But there was an air of unease about him, a shadow that had not been there when Rashid last saw him. The pressures of ruling a kingdom on the brink of war had taken their toll.

“Father,” Rashid greeted, bowing low before the king.

King Idris rose from his throne, his eyes sharp as they studied his son. “Rashid,” he said, his voice heavy with both relief and something else—something darker. “You have returned.”

Rashid straightened, meeting his father’s gaze. “The Ashen Crown has been destroyed. The Flamebearers’ curse will no longer threaten us.”

A flicker of something passed over the king’s face—was it disappointment? Rashid couldn’t be sure.

“The crown…” King Idris began, his voice slow, measured. “You chose to destroy it?”

Rashid nodded, confusion creeping into his mind. “It was too dangerous. Its power destroyed the Flamebearers, and it would have done the same to us.”

The king’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening. “And what of the power it could have granted us, Rashid? Power that could have given us the strength to crush our enemies? Spain and France grow bolder with each passing day. We stand on the precipice of war, and you destroyed the one thing that might have given us an advantage?”

Rashid’s heart sank. His father’s words cut deep, and for the first time, he realized that they were not on the same page. He had expected his father to be proud of his decision, to see the wisdom in it. But instead, there was only frustration—anger.

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“The crown was a curse,” Rashid argued, his voice firm. “It would have consumed us just as it consumed the Flamebearers. I will not lead our people down that path.”

King Idris turned away, his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out the tall windows of the throne room. “You think like a scholar, Rashid. Not like a king.”

The tension in the room was palpable, and Rashid could feel the weight of his father’s disappointment bearing down on him. He glanced at Malik and Safiya, who stood silently by his side, their expressions carefully guarded.

“I have returned with the power of the Eternal Flame,” Rashid said, trying to find common ground. “Its strength will help us in the battles to come. But we must use it wisely. If we let greed and ambition guide us, we will fall just as the Flamebearers did.”

The king’s shoulders tensed, and for a moment, Rashid thought his father might lash out. But instead, King Idris turned slowly, his gaze cold and calculating.

“You speak of caution, but caution will not win wars. Power does,” the king said, his voice low. “We face enemies who would see us broken, our kingdom reduced to ashes. And you—my only son—returned without the one thing that could have secured our victory.”

Rashid’s jaw clenched. He had expected resistance, but not from his own father. “I returned with my life and the lives of my companions. I returned with the Eternal Flame’s power, not the curse of the Ashen Crown. That is how we will win, father.”

King Idris’s gaze bore into Rashid’s. “We will win through strength, not restraint.”

The conversation was interrupted by a loud knock at the doors. A messenger entered, bowing before the king and Rashid. His face was pale, his voice trembling as he delivered the news.

“Sire, Prince Rashid… Spain and France have begun their movements. Their forces are gathering at our borders. The time for war is near.”

A heavy silence filled the room as the weight of the messenger’s words settled over them. Rashid’s mind raced. The timing couldn’t have been worse. His father was already displeased with him, and now war loomed on the horizon.

King Idris turned to Rashid, his expression unreadable. “You wanted caution, my son. Now you will see what caution costs.”

Later that night, Rashid found himself standing alone on the balcony overlooking the capital. The streets were quiet, but he could feel the unease in the air. The people sensed it too—the coming storm, the war that would soon engulf them all.

Safiya approached him, her footsteps soft on the stone floor. She stood beside him in silence for a moment before speaking.

“You did the right thing, Rashid,” she said quietly. “Destroying the crown—it was the only choice.”

Rashid’s chest tightened. “Then why does it feel like I’ve already lost?”

Safiya placed a hand on his arm, her touch gentle but firm. “Because your father is looking for a quick solution. But there are no shortcuts to real power. What you carry now—the Eternal Flame—that’s the true strength we need. And when the time comes, you’ll show him that.”

Rashid looked out over the city, his mind heavy with doubt. He had made his choice, and he stood by it. But the rift between him and his father was growing wider, and with war looming on the horizon, the future of Morocco had never been more uncertain.

The road ahead would not be easy, but Rashid had resolved to walk it. For his people, for his kingdom, and for the promise of a brighter future.

“I hope you’re right, Safiya,” Rashid said softly. “Because if I’m wrong… all of this could be for nothing.”