Shadows of War

Zulekha walked away, but the young man remained standing where he was.

He muttered to himself, it's unusually noisy today. People seem happier than ever. It's strange that they're all celebrating the same thing.

He began to walk away, still lost in his thoughts. As he moved through the crowded streets, he spoke to himself once again.

"That girl forgot something important. To live, one must fight. Whether it's for oneself, for loved ones, or sometimes even against oneself. Whether we want to or not, in the end, blood will always be spilled."

His mind drifted back to the battlefield.

War was raging. Darkness covered the land, and screams echoed from every direction. Everyone was fighting. Countless bodies lay helpless upon the ground, while many wounded soldiers writhed in agony. Blood stained the earth as far as the eye could see.

The young man stopped in front of a coffee shop and stepped inside.

A worker greeted him politely.

He walked over to a seat by the window and ordered a cup of coffee.

Nearby, another worker finished serving snacks to a customer and approached the owner, who was sitting behind the cash counter.

"Did you hear?" the worker asked. "Many of our people were martyred in the war."

The owner nodded.

"Yes."

The worker hesitated before asking, "Will these wars ever come to an end?"

The owner sighed.

Who knows? They say that as the people are, so their homes become. Homes shape a nation, and nations shape their governments."

The young man listened quietly to their conversation and let out a faint smile.

At that moment, a young woman rushed out of the kitchen.

Sorry! I'm so sorry!" she said breathlessly.

She hurried to his table, placed his coffee before him, and apologized once again for the delay.

The young man simply nodded.

Lifting the mug with both hands, he gazed through the window at the people passing by outside and took a slow sip.

As he watched them, a thought crossed his mind.

They don't even know why they're fighting these wars. They were merely puppets of those in power. The rulers declared someone our enemy, and we answered with war. They called them traitors, and we blindly picked up our swords and marched into battle."

He paused, staring at the bustling streets.

"But this war has no real purpose. It is nothing more than the work of those who crave power."

"It wasn't fought for survival. It wasn't fought to protect others. It wasn't fought for honor or identity."

"It was fought for power."

For power, countless homes were turned into battlefields."

His eyes remained fixed on the world outside.

"No matter the era, whether one wishes to live or to rule, power is always required."

...****************...

In front of her stood a magnificent palace, its towering walls radiating grandeur from afar. At the center of the vast courtyard was a splendid fountain, its crystal-clear water sparkling beneath the sunlight like countless pearls. Surrounding it were blooming rose gardens, their fragrance spreading through the air. The entire courtyard looked less like reality and more like a dream brought to life.

Zulekha gazed at the palace and spoke softly, "I wonder how many people dream of living in a place like this. I once dreamed of it too."

A faint smile appeared on her lips.

"And that dream has become reality. But the happiness I feel today is not the same as before. Back then, there was joy, but no peace. Today, I have both joy and peace, yet somehow... it still feels incomplete."

As she approached, the grand gates of the palace were opened for her. The workers standing along the entrance bowed respectfully and greeted her.

Zulekha looked around and asked, "Where is everyone?"

One of the workers stepped forward and replied, "My Lady, everyone is waiting for you in the dining hall."

This kingdom was known as the second most powerful nation in the world.

Within the realm, four great noble families held the highest influence and authority.

From the North ruled Saalar Sameer Mirza.

From the South stood Sikandar Raza Baqri.

From the East was Altamash Haider Shirazi.

From the West was Shameer Talha Amrohi.

And as for me, I belong to the Mirza family, one of the most influential and respected families in the entire kingdom.

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