The servants had prepared warm water for him and it felt like heaven.
Amir sat in a marble tub as two servants poured rose-scented water over his bruised back. He moved a little, but for the first time in days, he felt his body began to relax. He didn't speak. Just let the water do its magic.
After his bath, they gave him fresh clothes,
white tunic, soft sandals, and a gold band to hold back his wet hair. He looked at himself in the shiny bronze mirror. He still looked tired and sore, but atleast he felt cleaner. More like himself.
A young boy waltked into the room. "The king waits," he said.
Amir followed him through long hallways lit with torches. The palace was quiet now, only the faint sound of flutes. They walked through tall doors into a wide dining hall filled with low golden tables, soft couches, and the smell of roasted lamb and herbs.
King Thalerius sat at the head. His advisors were already eating. The queen sat beside him. And Princess Callista, dressed in a soft blue gown, sat on the other side, quietly watching.
Everyone turned as Amir entered.
He hesitated, but the king smiled.
"Come, boy," he said. "Sit with us."
Amir walked forward and sat where they had left a space for him, near the princess. A servant poured him wine. Another placed food on his plate.
He was just about to eat when Callista leaned forward.
"What happened to you?" she asked softly.
The hall fell silent.
Amir took a deep breath. His fingers held the edge of the table. Then he looked up.
"My name is Amir," he said. "Son of King Zarhaddon of Assyria. My home… it was destroyed."
He paused.
"A month ago, Parakshan attacked. Their king, Azaroth, marched into our land with fire and steel. My people were caught by surprise. They cut down women and children. Burned everything. I watched my father's palace fall. I escaped with a few men…but we were abused by bandits on our way and my men gave their lives fighting for me to escape. Elias the marchant helped me escaped to the sea and we boarded a ship, but the sea swallowed them. I woke up here."
No one spoke.
The king looked at him, his eyes in surprise. His advisors glanced at one another. Even the queen set down her cup. There was a heavy silence in the air.
Princess Callista whispered, "You were sent here by the gods…"
Amir didn't know what to say. So he said nothing.
The king finally raised his cup.
"To the boy who came from fire and storm," he said. "May he find peace under our sky."
The men cheered, raising their drinks.
Dinner with quiet conversation, but the mood had changed. Everyone looked at Amir differently now. Not like a stranger. But like someone important.
When the meal ended, and most of the guests had gone, Princess Callista stood near Amir as he rose from the table.
"I'm sorry about your home," she said gently.
He nodded. "Thank you."
She looked at the sword hanging by his side. "Can you fight with The Splasher?"
He smiled a little. "Not yet. But I will."
She smiled at him too. "Good night, Amir."
"Good night, Princess."
She turned and walked away, her soft steps fading down the marble hall.
Amir stood still for a moment, then touched the hilt of the sword.
He turned and walked back to his chambers.
The room was quiet. Clean sheets. A soft bed. A kind of peace he hadn't felt in a long time.
As soon as he laid down, sleep took him.
But it wasn't just sleep—it was a dream.
A great storm rose from the sea like a mountain, dark and wild, crashing into cities, flooding the land with a fury that couldn't be stopped. It swallowed everything, villages, temples, lives.
Then, he saw himself.
Not afraid. Not running.
He was leading warriors. Building walls, barriers, weapons—things strong enough to fight back the storm. And when the storm came for Greece, he stood at the front. Not to escape it.
But to face it.
He woke up with a sharp breath, his heart beating fast.
The room was still dark, but his eyes were wide open.
He didn't fully understand the dream… but one thing was clear.
He wasn't just a survivor anymore.
He was meant to be a warrior.