Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death

***

{Inside The Projection}

Malik looked left. Then right. Then forward to Kabir.

“…It seems I did right by choosing you.”

Kabir swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

“Thank you, Lord.”

Malik’s eyes then swept across the camp, piercing into each rebel’s soul.

“Though they outnumber us, these bandits won’t rush us.”

A heavy silence fell.

Even the youngest among them could tell this was strategy, not hope.

“They’ll stay just inside the dome’s edge. Let the Holy Relic bleed me—us dry. Fire arrows. Wear us down. They know not to provoke me outright. Not yet.”

Kabir clenched his jaw, as did many others.

“They’ll wait… until I’m weak. Until I’m on my knees. Then he’ll send in the ten Jinn.”

Ten. Jinn.

Most of the Banu Sasan winced.

“Time is on their side, and we’ll be taking advantage of that.”

Only Kabir appeared unfazed, hanging on his Lord’s every word.

“You… my people. You must not let them tighten the noose.”

Malik raised his right hand, and the snow beneath him seemed to hum.

“You must go out to meet them.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

A long silence.

The fear was thick, almost a taste on the tongue. But no one ran.

“Choose your formation. Cohort by cohort. Find your leader. Plan your path. Survive.”

No one even began to think of running.

“But before you go… come to me.”

They stared at him.

“Kneel. Tell me your name.”

He raised his head, just slightly, and looked toward the flying Sinbad.

“If you call for me… I will come.”

The owl hooted once, acknowledging his plan.

“Trust that I will.”

With those final words, the entire camp lowered its heads.

“YES, MY LORD!”

From the outer walls to the inner tents, their roar echoed like thunder.

Immediately after, Kabir stood up and pointed to the eastern barricade.

“Rami! Take three Sahirs with you and prepare that side with spells!”

She nodded and ran.

“Samir!”

He called next, pointing to the man with the daggers.

“You and your guys will go out first. Go and kneel.”

Samir grinned.

“With pleasure.”

One by one, they came, much closer than last time. One young and trembling, another hardened with skin like sandpaper, most somewhere in between. Each of them knelt. Each of them placed their hand over their second heart.

Each of them gave their name:

“Samir, my Lord.”

“Faisal, my Lord.”

“Ayyub, my Lord.”

“Zayna, my Lord.”

“Abd, my Lord.”

They all took a breath and vowed once more:

“I will protect you.”

Malik listened to every name.

He memorized them, engraving each deep in his mind.

Yes, he didn’t open his eyes; he showed no signs of acknowledgment, but he knew them.

And they knew that he did.

When the five rose out from the safety of the camp and sprinted into the jaws of death, the darkness beyond the dome’s reach…

The tide began to move.

The enemy waited—thousands upon thousands upon thousands, their lights of fire flickering on every hill.

It was a sight that would’ve brought terror to any that faced it, mortal or Nadhir.

And yet, the five rebels charged.

Not for glory.

Not even for vengeance.

For time.

For seconds, minutes, hours, days.

For the man sitting at the center of it all, swallowing ice into fire, trying to become something no one had ever seen before… salvation perhaps.

Above them, the dome pulsed again.

And the war had begun.

The five—Samir, Faisal, Ayyub, Zayna, and Abd—charged towards death.

Five dots of resistance against a wave of ash-colored steel.

The bandits greeted them like they were kings…

Kings they wanted dead.

GHOAAAAAAAAAAAN!

The first horn blew, a sound that came just before a butchering.

GHOAAAAAAAAAAAN!

A second followed.

GHOAAAAAAAAAAAN!

Then a third and fourth.

Once each direction sounded war…

A thousand arrows let loose, darkening the sky, feathers of death.

“BEHIND ME!”

Samir barked, and Ayyub stepped forward, slamming his long shield into the snow with both arms, crouching behind it.

The rest dove behind the two, huddled close, making themselves small, pressing to the ground as the storm poured.

Thud. Thud. Thunk.

The shield shook with every hit.

And it wasn’t the only thing that shook.

The force of the barrage made the very earth beneath them tremble.

Metal rang. Spells flared. Some arrows slammed into the barriers around the camp too, but thanks to the barricades and Sahirs on guard with their walls of elements and shimmering barriers that fizzled arrows mid-air, none made it past.

From the center of it all, Malik did not flinch, even when arrows passed a few breaths above him, the wind tousling his robes.

He trusted his guards to keep their vows.

Aether kept spinning into his veins, the ice core pulsing like a heartbeat in his lap. The fire in him roared against the foreign element, but it had to take it. No other choice. No other road forward. His people were bleeding for time, and he was the hourglass.

The moment the arrow rain ended, the five broke from behind Ayyub’s shield and charged.

They screamed—not battle cries, but names.

“O FATHER!”

Faisal dove into the first line of bandits, slicing a sword across a man’s chest.

“Amina!”

Zayna had fire lace her hands as she blasted a soldier clean off the ground.

“For my son!”

Ayyub twisted through a gap and cut two foes down in one spin of his shield.

“O daughter!”

Abd followed close behind, all grit, fighting like a hammer, punching away.

“AHAHAHAHA!”

And Samir—Samir was laughing like a maniac.

The man seemed born for blood.

“C’MON! PUSH FORWARD!”

The five surged into the wave of bodies.

The bandits hadn’t expected them to charge again.

Magi or not, five against thousands should’ve been suicide.

But that was the thing.

These weren’t people protecting hope.

They were protecting him… and he did more than what Jasmine asked of him.

This mantle he wore wasn’t just carrying hope; it was indeed carrying faith.

Faith that he was a Lord worth sacrificing for, a Lord who stood for them, a Lord who could lead to a future filled with light.

Sure, they had barely just met, but they were more than willing to go on this leap of faith.

They were that desperate for a leader, for a change in this doomed cycle of mortal life.

And amongst those five, Samir seemed most desperate.

“FALL TO MY BLADES!”

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