A New life.

Chapter: A New Life in Targari

The desert winds carried whispers of change as Leo and Cassian were led into the heart of the Targari city. The golden dunes stretched endlessly, but within them lay a thriving civilization—one built not on towering stone walls but on the strength of its people and their connection to the land.

Leo, still mute, observed everything in silence. The Targari people moved with purpose, their bronze skin glistening under the harsh sun, their attire woven from the finest desert silk, adorned with beads and ornaments that spoke of their lineage. The air smelled of spice, earth, and the distant scent of the giant earthworms burrowing beneath the sand.

Cassian, however, was less composed. His nose wrinkled at his own lingering stench, and the moment he caught sight of the noble Targari girl he had flirted with before his capture, he instinctively tried to smooth his tattered clothes. The girl, accompanied by her friends, covered her nose dramatically and whispered something that made them all burst into laughter. Segrit, ever the entertainer, clapped Cassian on the back.

"Ah, look at that! The great charmer of Delia, reduced to a man repelling even the flies!"

The crowd laughed as Cassian groaned. "Come on, give me a bath already! I swear this isn't my natural scent."

"You smell like a thousand rotting camels," Segrit teased. "Maybe Nayomi will let you bathe in the sacred pools, if you beg hard enough."

Leo, despite himself, almost smiled.

A Warm Welcome

As they reached the inner city, the people gathered, whispering and murmuring about the two captives who had returned from the trial. Some elders nodded knowingly, as if recalling the ancient stories of how the earthworms only swallowed the weak-hearted. Others debated whether this foreigner, this mute warrior, was a good omen or a bad one.

"The earthworm spared him," one old man muttered. "Perhaps the spirits of the sands see something in him."

"But why him?" another questioned. "If the ancient one with the highest aura did not devour him, then what kind of heart does this boy possess?"

The questions hung in the air, but Leo paid them little mind. He was more focused on Nayomi, who, unlike the others, had not spoken a word. She simply studied him, her sharp golden eyes scanning his every movement, as if searching for an answer he did not yet understand himself.

Nayomi's Growing Interest

For reasons unknown to even her, Nayomi found herself drawn to Leo. He was unlike any warrior she had encountered. His silence did not make him weak—it made him a mystery. Most men fought with words as much as with swords, but Leo's strength lay in his presence, in the depth of his gaze, in the way he carried himself with quiet resilience.

She noticed how he did not flinch when the people whispered about him, nor did he bow his head in shame when some still eyed him with suspicion. He simply stood tall, absorbing everything, learning, adapting.

One evening, as the sun dipped into the dunes, painting the sky in shades of amber and crimson, Nayomi approached him.

"You do not speak," she said, standing beside him on the high terrace overlooking the city. "Yet I feel you have much to say."

Leo turned to her, his eyes meeting hers. He wanted to respond, to tell her of the storm raging inside him, of the pain, the loss, the fire that burned for revenge. But his voice was gone, stolen by tragedy.

Nayomi, as if sensing his struggle, reached into her belt and pulled out a small dagger. With a quick motion, she sliced through the air before him. "Actions speak louder than words," she said. "Perhaps you will show me who you are, instead of telling me."

Leo held her gaze, understanding the challenge in her eyes. He did not need words to prove himself.

For the first time since his capture, he felt something other than sorrow.

He felt purpose.

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