Chapter 11: The Desert Rose

-------Two weeks later------

The gates of Bel'zhun stood tall and unyielding, their dark stone weathered by centuries of desert winds. Samira stood before them, her red jacket billowing faintly in the dry breeze. The city stretched before her, both familiar and foreign.

It had been years since she had last walked these streets, but the memories lingered—vivid, bright, and bittersweet.

-----10 years ago---------

The eastern edge of Bel'zhun was a place of life and color, its narrow streets lined with makeshift stalls and vendors calling out their wares. Among the bustling crowds, a young Samira twirled gracefully, a small dagger spinning between her fingers as she flipped it into the air and caught it effortlessly.

"Careful, Sami!" her mother called, her voice tinged with both pride and worry.

"It's fine, Mama!" Samira replied, flashing a wide grin. "See? I've got this!"

Her father chuckled, his lute slung over his shoulder as he stepped into the small circle of onlookers they had gathered. "Let her have her fun, Yara. She's got her mother's balance and her father's flair."

Samira beamed at the compliment, spinning on one foot and tossing the dagger high into the air. As it fell, she caught it behind her back, earning a chorus of applause from the crowd.

Her parents exchanged a look—part pride, part concern. While their daughter reveled in the attention, they worried about the instability of their lives. They scraped by as street performers, dazzling the crowds with tricks and songs, but it was a precarious existence.

"I just want her to have a chance at something more stable," Yara murmured as they packed up for the day.

"She'll find her own path," her father replied, his gaze lingering on Samira as she playfully juggled a pair of daggers. "And when she does, it'll be spectacular."

But as always, life always find a way to screw things up.

-----------the present---------

The gates of the garrison creaked open, and Samira strolled in with a casual confidence that drew every eye in the courtyard. She wore a tattered Brown jacket over black leather armor, her twin pistols holstered at her sides and her curved blade slung across her back.

The soldiers paused in their drills to watch her pass, their expressions a mix of curiosity and unease.

Samira tilted her head, her dark brown eyes scanning the garrison with a faint smirk. "Feels good to be home," she muttered under her breath.

She spotted Su and Zanaiya waiting near the war room entrance and approached them with a steady, deliberate stride.

"You must be the Demon of the Desert," Samira said, her voice smooth and confident. "The stories don't do you justice."

Su's expression remained neutral. "And you're the Desert Rose."

Samira grinned. "You've heard of me. I'm flattered."

 "You're late." he said evenly.

She shrugged, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. "Two weeks on the road will do that. Didn't think you'd miss me that much."

"It's not about missing you," Su replied. "It's about discipline."

"Right," Samira said, drawing out the word as her gaze shifted to Zanaiya. "Lieutenant. Nice Spear. Bet it's great for scaring off deserters."

Zanaiya raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Let's hope you don't give me a reason to use it."

The tension between the three hung in the air for a moment before Su broke it. "We'll discuss the mission inside."

------------------

In the war room, the map of Bel'zhun lay spread across the table, marked with red circles and lines indicating rebel movements. Su stood at the head of the table, his arms crossed as he explained their next operation.

"The rebels have regrouped in the eastern tunnels," he said. "We've identified two key targets: a weapons cache and a communications hub. Both need to be neutralized."

Samira leaned casually against the wall, her pistols resting on the table in front of her. "Sounds straightforward. What's the catch?"

"They know the terrain better than we do," Su replied. "If we're not careful, we'll be walking into a trap."

Samira's smirk returned. "Good thing you've got me, then. I know these tunnels better than anyone."

"You'll follow my lead," Su said, his tone firm.

For a moment, Samira studied him, her dark eyes searching his face. Then she nodded. "Sure, Captain. Whatever you say."

Zanaiya glanced at Su, her expression unreadable. She could sense the unease in the room, but she also knew that Su wouldn't let it distract him.

"Move out at first light," Su said, his gaze sweeping over the group. "Dismissed."

As the others left the room, Samira lingered for a moment, her fingers brushing over the grip of one of her pistols.

"Feels strange, being back here," she said quietly.

Su looked at her, his expression softening just enough to show curiosity. "Why?"

"I grew up in this city," Samira replied, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "The eastern district was my home. Back then, we were performers—me, my parents. We didn't have much, but we made it work."

"What happened?" Su asked.

Samira's smirk faded, replaced by a distant look. "Shit Happened. Same as always." She straightened, her confident demeanor returning. "Anyway, that was a long time ago. Let's focus on the now."

Su nodded, though her words lingered in his mind as she left the room.