The morning air was thick with dust, heavy with the promise of heat. The sun slowly rose over the horizon and cast long shadows across the cracked earth of Upper Egypt. Ziya had hardly slept. Her mind was tangled in the words Hassan had whispered the night before: The truth always comes to light. A part of her had felt the weight of those words, a gnawing sensation deep in her chest. Hassan wasn't just a spy. He was one of those people who knew too much-perhaps more than even she realized.

The storm cloud of tension from last night hung over the camp as Pharaoh's squad got ready to leave, their faces set on the mission at hand. Khalid moved purposefully, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon for signs of danger. He is a man who thrives on control, who never lets distractions—least of all someone like Hassan—interrupt his plans. She couldn't help but notice his discipline, even as it made her feel all the more an outsider.

"We leave now." Khalid's voice was a sudden appearance of silence, carrying upon his words the weight of command to the wind.

Ziya straightened, smoothing the folds of her cloak. The ruins they were going to lay just beyond the horizon—no more than a day's ride on horseback, perhaps less. But something in a far corner of her gut felt to say that getting there was going to be the easy part, the real task beginning when they actually went within the city, unveiling what had been hidden in the crumbling stone.

The squad mounted their horses, and the ride began in quiet unison. The sound of hooves drumming against the dry earth filled the air as they moved forward, the horses kicking up clouds of dust that clung to their cloaks. Ziya kept her eyes ahead, focusing on the path in front of her, while the wind tugged at her hair. Muffled murmurs rose behind her, hushed tones, but her mind was very far away, lost in a maze of confusion. The words of Hassan seemed to ring in her ears: Do you want to find the truth, or are you hiding from it?

Hiding?

Ziya didn't think so. She had left the darkness behind, turned her back on the magic that had once been hers. But even as she told herself that, doubt gnawed at the edges of her resolve. She wasn't the same woman who had once wielded power over the elements. That magic had come at a terrible cost-too many lives lost, too many souls twisted by her hands. She had tried to leave that part of her life behind, to become something else. Yet now, as the curse spread like wildfire across Egypt, it felt as though the past was catching up with her. Her fingers brushed against the small silver amulet hidden beneath her robes.

The amulet was the only thing keeping her tethered to her former self, the only safeguard against the dark magic that still lurked beneath the surface. If the squad found out, if they knew what she really was, it would be over. Her cover would be blown, and with that, her death warrant would be signed, sealed, and delivered. But even the amulet had its limitations. As the hours ticked by and the sun rose higher, Ziya began to feel the faintest stirrings of her old power-like a whisper at the edge of her consciousness, urging her to give in. "Keep your wits about you, Ziya."

The deep voice of Khalid snapped her from her reverie. She turned to see him riding beside her, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. He didn't look at her directly, but she could feel the weight of his gaze, sharp as a blade.

"You've been quiet," he observed, his voice low, almost probing. "Is something wrong?"

Ziya hesitated a moment before meeting his gaze. She forced a smile, one that she hoped appeared calm and unaffected. "Just focused on the task at hand, sir."

Khalid's gaze lingered on her for a beat longer than necessary, his brow furrowing slightly. There was something calculating in his look, something that made Ziya's pulse quicken. She had learned long ago that Khalid was a man who saw through facades. The others might trust her, but she wasn't so sure how long she could keep her secret from him. He had a way of reading people, of unraveling their hidden truths.

"Stay alert," he said finally, breaking the moment of tension. "We can't afford to let our guard down."

Without another word, he spurred his horse forward, but Ziya couldn't shake the feeling that his eyes were still on her, that his suspicion hadn't faded. She exhaled quietly, trying to steady her nerves, but her heart continued to race in her chest.

By noon, they reached the edge of the ruined city, and Ziya's breath caught in her throat.

The air was heavy with the scent of decay, as if Time itself had abandoned the land. Before them lay the city, skeletal remains of a civilization that once was great. The towering stone columns rose from the earth, now half-crumbled and weathered by centuries of neglect, like the bones of giants. The ruins stretched in every direction, jagged and imposing, casting long shadows that seemed to move of their own accord, as if the city was still alive in some way. The air was heavy with silence, almost suffocating.

Ziya could feel the weight of history upon her, the ancient secrets hidden beneath the stones, waiting to be uncovered. But there was something more. A strange, oppressive feeling lingered in the air, a sense of something dark, something powerful stirring deep within the ruins. It was a feeling that made her skin crawl, as though the very earth beneath her feet was alive with magic. Dismounted, the squad began a cautious walk into the ruins as their horses whinnied in unease.

Khalid walked carefully, peering around each turn of the city, wary of all dangers. The others did likewise. Tarek, young and still learning the way of survival, had already drawn his sword and gripped the hilt tightly, never once leaving his eyes to stray. Nefri muttered quickly under her breath in prayers against the gods. Bashir stood in the back, his hand on the hilt of his weapon, his eyes darting this way and that, alert to every sound. Ziya felt a quickening in her chest as she stepped into the heart of the ruins.

The air seemed heavier here, thick with the weight of centuries. Her fingers brushed the amulet again, and she felt the familiar stirrings of magic inside her, urging her to let it out, to tap into the power she had once wielded. But she resisted, clenching her fists at her sides. She couldn't afford to be weak now—not when they were this close to the source of the curse. "We'll move with caution," Khalid said, in a low, even tone that nonetheless carried weight. "The curse is near. We must be prepared for what we may find."

Ziya nodded, but a part of her couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't just facing an enemy in the ruins. There was something here, something older, something far more dangerous. The curse wasn't a plague of disease; it was a plague of power, and she could feel it edging closer with every step they took into the heart of the ruins.

As they moved deeper into the city, the shadows grew longer, the air more suffocating. Ziya knew they were close. And the closer they got, the more she realized that the true danger wasn't just the curse-it was the dark magic that had once been her own, now threatening to rise again.