(three year ago)
The night was thick with smoke, and the acrid scent of burning wood filled the air, mixing with the bitter stench of fear. It was a village once alive with the sounds of laughter, the scent of food cooking, and children playing. But now, it was a place of ruin, nothing but twisted metal, broken homes, and the distant crackle of flames. Maya crouched behind the crumbled remnants of a building, her breath shallow and fast. The sky above was a fiery red, the darkness of night unable to conceal the havoc that had been wrought.
She tried to calm her nerves, but her heart was a drum in her chest. The children huddled close to her, all wide-eyed and trembling. There were thirteen of them, all varying in age but bound by the same terror. They were no strangers to hardship, but this night had brought them to the edge of what any of them could endure. Maya's voice came out in a whisper, barely audible over the distant explosions and shouting.
"Stay hidden. Don't make a sound," she ordered, her eyes scanning the dark, every rustle sending a surge of panic through her veins.
The children nodded, huddling together, their faces pressed against the cold earth, trying to become as small as possible. Maya crouched beside them, keeping watch. She could hear the steady march of soldiers drawing closer, their boots heavy against the ground. The sound of metal clinking echoed in the distance, a terrifying reminder of what they were up against.
Her stomach churned. She had to keep them safe. She would die before allowing these children to be harmed.
Suddenly, the door to their hiding place splintered, and light poured into the small space. Maya's breath caught in her throat, and her body tensed. The soldiers had found them. She leaped to her feet, positioning herself between the children and the door. The barrel of a gun appeared first, and then a soldier stepped into view, a sneer on his lips.
"Out of the way, girl," he barked.
Maya's heart raced, but she didn't move. She couldn't. "Leave them alone," she whispered fiercely, though her voice was shaking.
The soldier raised his rifle, aiming it directly at her chest. But before he could pull the trigger, there was a sudden shift in the air—a blur of movement. In an instant, the soldier was disarmed, his weapon sent flying to the floor. Maya blinked, and for a brief moment, she thought she might have imagined it. But no, the figure that appeared before her was too real to ignore.
She felt a cold chill, one that was not from fear but from awe. Standing before her was Noor—draped in black silk, her sword gleaming in the moonlight. Her presence was like a storm, fierce and unstoppable. Without hesitation, Noor struck, her movements swift and graceful. The soldiers lunged at her, but she was too quick. With every movement, she cut through the air like a force of nature.
Maya watched in stunned silence as Noor fought, each strike a deadly dance. The soldiers were no match for her. One fell with a guttural scream, and another was knocked aside, his jaw shattered by a precise blow. Noor didn't even seem to notice the blood staining her clothes, her focus entirely on the task at hand.
But even Noor, with all her strength, was not invulnerable. Maya watched in horror as one soldier managed to strike her with a blade. Noor staggered back, a wound opening across her side. Blood dripped from her, but she didn't falter. She gritted her teeth and pressed forward, her blade slashing through the air again.
'Get them out of here!" Noor shouted, her voice strong despite the pain. "Go, now!"
Maya hesitated for only a moment before snapping into action. She grabbed the hands of the children, leading them through the darkness, her legs trembling as she tried to steady her breath. She urged them forward, trying to drown out the sounds of fighting, the crackle of flames, and the terror that lingered in the air. But her mind couldn't help but drift back to Noor. Even in the midst of battle, she fought with an unearthly grace—almost like she was the embodiment of vengeance itself.
But Maya knew she couldn't look back now. The children needed her. She had to protect them.
As she guided them to safety, Maya couldn't help but glance back one last time. Noor was still standing, though her movements had slowed, her sword now a heavy burden in her hand. Her face was pale, her expression tight with pain, but she fought on. She wasn't giving up—not while there was still breath in her lungs.
Maya's heart ached as she continued to lead the children through the night. She had no idea how long they ran, but eventually, they found shelter in a distant cave, away from the chaos of the village. They were safe for now.
But Maya couldn't forget Noor. The woman who had saved them all. The woman who had given her hope when everything seemed lost.
The air in the cave was suffocating, thick with the stench of fear and desperation. Maya crouched in the corner, her arms wrapped tightly around the youngest child, who trembled in her grasp. The others huddled silently, their small bodies pressed into the cool stone walls. The sound of boots crunching against gravel outside the entrance grew louder, and Maya's pulse roared in her ears like a storm threatening to drown her.
She couldn't breathe. Every inhale felt like trying to suck air through water. Her chest tightened painfully, her limbs frozen between the instinct to fight and the crushing weight of knowing she was powerless. The knife in her trembling hand was useless against the men who prowled outside. They were hunters, and she and the children were their prey.
*God, help me. Please help me,* she begged silently, her thoughts spiraling.
Her mind was a battlefield, replaying the last days in violent flashes. The way her mother's lifeless body had crumpled to the ground. The sound of her father's screams cut short. The blood on her hands as she pulled a boy from the rubble of his home, only for him to die hours later in her arms. Every moment felt like a blade slicing into her , leaving wounds that would never heal.
Now, it was happening again. She had sworn she wouldn't let the children die. But what could she do? She was a child herself, barely old enough to understand the concept of death before it became her constant companion. She clutched the knife tighter, her knuckles white. "I won't let them take us. I won't let them hurt them. I can't."
But the moment the door splintered open, the false courage she clung to shattered.
Maya rose to her feet, shielding the children with her body, her voice breaking as she screamed, "Stop! Please! Don't hurt them!"
The men laughed, a sound that made her stomach churn. One of them stepped forward, his shadow stretching over her like a specter of death. "Move aside, little girl," he snarled, raising the butt of his rifle.
She shut her eyes, bracing for the impact, but the blow never came. A deafening roar filled the cave instead, followed by the sickening crack of bones and the thud of bodies hitting the ground. Maya's eyes flew open, and she saw her—a dark figure cutting through the chaos with inhuman precision.
Noor.
Maya's relief was short-lived. As Noor fought, the small cave turned into a hellish whirlwind of violence. Blood splattered the walls, the sharp metallic scent overwhelming. The screams of men echoed in her ears, their gurgling cries as Noor dispatched them one by one.
But it wasn't enough. More soldiers poured in, and Noor, was not invincible. Maya saw the strain in her movements, the way she faltered under the weight of the fight. She saw the knife glint in the dim light before it sank into Noor's side, and the world seemed to tilt.
*No. No..nooo.noooooo Please, God.*
Maya's legs gave out beneath her. She hit the ground hard, her body trembling violently as shock set in. Her vision blurred, and the sounds around her became distorted, like she was underwater. The children's cries, Noor's grunts of pain, the shouts of the men—it all swirled into a chaotic cacophony that she couldn't escape.
Her hands clawed at the dirt floor, desperate to ground herself, but it was no use. The fear, the helplessness, the overwhelming guilt—they consumed her, dragging her into the abyss. She tried to stay conscious, tried to fight the darkness creeping in at the edges of her vision, but her body betrayed her.
The last thing she saw before the world went black was Noor, still standing, still fighting, her blood staining the ground as she shielded them all. The image burned into Maya's mind, even as her consciousness slipped away, a haunting reminder of the woman who was willing to sacrifice everything for them.
---
Maya awoke in a strange place, her body heavy with exhaustion and pain. She was lying on a soft bed, the faint scent of antiseptic filling the air. Her wounds had been tended to, and though she felt weak, there was a sense of peace that she couldn't quite explain. As her eyes fluttered open, she saw Noor standing over her, her face calm and serene despite the storm that had raged just hours before.
Maya blinked in confusion. "you… where am I?" she whispered, her voice raw.
Noor's eyes softened as she sat beside the bed. "You're safe now."
Maya's throat tightened with gratitude. She tried to sit up but winced in pain. Noor immediately placed a gentle hand on her shoulder to help her back down.
"Easy," Noor said, her voice steady. "You've been through a lot."
Maya's heart swelled. Noor's presence was a balm to her frayed nerves. She had been terrified, sure that she was going to lose everything—but Noor had been there. She had saved them all.
"The children… are they alright?" Maya asked, her voice trembling.
"They're safe," Noor said with a small smile. "You did well. You kept them safe."
Maya's eyes filled with tears. She had kept them safe, but only because of Noor. Only because Noor had fought with everything she had, even when it seemed impossible. She had given her everythig.
"I don't know how to thank you," Maya whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You… you saved me."
Noor shook her head, her expression softening. "You were strong. You did your part. And now, you'll continue to do so."
Maya's breath caught in her throat. What Noor was saying--- A chance to live, a chance to thrive.
But even as she thought about it, a nagging feeling tugged at her. "What happens now?" Maya asked, her eyes searching Noor's.
Noor's gaze grew distant for a moment before she spoke again. "Now, you rest. Heal.."
Maya swallowed hard, her heart pounding. She was ready. She wasn't sure what the future held, but she was ready. She had survived this.
---
Few months passed .
The mornings began before dawn.
Maya would rise in the cold, body aching from the relentless training that had become her life. Every muscle burned, every bruise ached, but she welcomed the pain—it was a reminder of what she owed. The first light of the sun had not yet touched the sky when she stepped onto the training grounds, bare feet pressing into the damp earth.
Strikes. Blocks. Evasions.
Her body moved through the forms with precision, every motion drilled into her until it became instinct. She fought against trainers twice her size, against wooden dummies that splintered under her fists. It was never enough. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the soldiers—saw Noor, bathed in blood, still fighting.
She had been "weak" that night. She had fainted while Noor had fought alone. That was why she trained until her bones screamed in protest, why she pushed until she collapsed, gasping, on the floor. She would never be useless again.
When the morning training ended, she moved to her studies. Languages, finance, politics—Noor ensured that education was as much a weapon as a blade. Maya absorbed everything, her mind as sharp as the daggers she trained with. She barely spoke to anyone outside of her instructors, isolating herself in the pursuit of mastery.
She didn't allow herself to enjoy Noor's home. The grand halls, the warmth, the peace—none of it was hers. She had to earn it.
Then one day, everything changed.
"She was summoned."
The message came during the late afternoon, as Maya was catching her breath between sparring matches. A single sentence delivered by a servant: " Madam Noor requests your presence ."
Her stomach twisted into knots.
Noor never requested—she commanded.
Maya had seen her from a distance, of course. During prayer. During gatherings with the children. During brief glances across the estate. But never like this. Never called into Noor's private chambers.
Her hands clenched into fists. She had trained for this, lived for this. Why was her chest tightening? Why did her breath feel uneven?
She tried to shake the feeling as she cleaned herself up, trading her training attire for a plain black dress. But as she walked down the grand corridor, her fingers trembled at her sides. The weight of months—no, *years*—pressed onto her shoulders.
"What if Noor had called her to say she was still too weak?"
What if Noor saw through the mask Maya wore, the girl who still woke in the night, haunted by screams?
What if she had *failed*?
She swallowed the fear, her expression unreadable as she reached Noor's door. The guards standing watch didn't spare her a glance as they pushed the heavy doors open.
And then—
Noor was there.
Sitting near the large arched window, bathed in soft evening light, Noor's presence filled the room like a storm just before it broke. Her silk dress fell in perfect lines around her, untouched by the disorder of the world outside. But Maya's eyes were drawn to the woman herself—the way the dim light framed her features, the curve of her lips, the depth in her gaze.
Maya's breath hitched.
And suddenly, she was back in the cave.
The metallic scent of blood. The gleam of a dagger plunging into Noor's side. The way she had *kept fighting*, even as her body took blow after blow.
Maya clenched her teeth, fighting back the wave of nausea that threatened to take hold. She forced herself to breathe, to remember that this was the present, not the past. Noor was not covered in blood. Noor was alive. Safe.
But was she?
Maya lowered her gaze, forcing herself to bow properly. "You called for me, Madam ."
Silence.
Then, a soft exhale.
"You've trained well," Noor finally said, her voice smooth, unreadable. "I have watched your progress. You have done more than I expected."
Maya's heart pounded in her chest, but she did not look up.
"You did not have to go this far," Noor continued, her tone quieter now. "Yet you did."
Maya could feel the weight of Noor's gaze pressing into her, but she kept her composure.
"I owe you everything," Maya murmured.
Noor was silent for a long time. Then, she stood.
Maya felt it before she saw it—the movement, the sheer presence Noor commanded without effort. Noor walked towards her, each step slow, deliberate. Maya willed herself to remain still, even as her body screamed at her to move—to run, to hide from the memories clawing at the edges of her mind.
But then Noor did something unexpected.
She reached out.
A single hand, resting against Maya's shoulder. A touch—soft, grounding.
"You do not owe me," Noor said. "What was taken from you cannot be repaid. You survived. That is enough."
Maya's breath faltered. She clenched her hands tighter, her nails digging into her palms.
Noor's fingers lingered for only a moment before she withdrew them, stepping back. "I have called you here today because I need someone by my side. Someone capable. Someone I trust."
Maya lifted her head, eyes finally meeting Noor's.
"Trust? Me?"
"You will serve as my secretary." Noor's voice was calm, certain. "From now on, you will stand beside me in ."
For a long moment, Maya could only stare.
This was what she had trained for. What she had pushed herself beyond her limits for. Yet now, standing before Noor, she felt like the girl in the cave again—frightened, unworthy.
But she wouldn't allow herself to falter.
She straightened her back. Bowed her head.
"I will serve you with everything I have, Madam Noor."
Noor studied her for a moment longer, then turned away, as if satisfied. "Then let us begin."
Maya exhaled softly, the weight on her chest both heavier and lighter than before.
The debt was not paid.
It never would be.
But now, she had a new purpose. And she would give Noor everything she had.
------
Maya stepped out of Noor's chambers, her mind still reeling from the weight of what had just transpired. The grand hallway stretched before her, the air thick with the scent of aged wood and faint traces of incense. She pressed a hand against her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow.
She had done it. She had stood before Noor, spoken without faltering, accepted the role given to her. But the image of Noor's blood-soaked figure from that night still clung to the edges of her mind.
She exhaled sharply.
"You look like you've just seen a ghost," a voice murmured beside her.
Maya's head snapped up.
Zeyla.
The woman stood with arms crossed, her sharp eyes studying Maya with an expression that was both amused and knowing. Dressed in her usual form-fitting black attire, her long, braided hair swayed slightly as she tilted her head.
Maya swallowed, quickly composing herself. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Zeyla smirked. "I could say the same for you. But I suppose that's changed now, hasn't it?" She leaned in slightly. "Secretary to Lady Noor. Impressive."
Maya stiffened, glancing around the hallway. "Keep your voice down."
Zeyla chuckled but obeyed, lowering her tone. "Relax. You look like you're about to bolt." Her expression softened just a fraction. "You're nervous."
Maya scoffed. "Why would I be nervous?"
Zeyla arched a brow. "You tell me."
Maya hesitated. She had no desire to voice the whirlwind of emotions churning inside her, but Zeyla's gaze was unwavering, as if she already knew.
"I just…" Maya exhaled. "She's—" She paused, shaking her head. "I thought I was prepared."
Zeyla studied her for a moment before nodding. "Seeing her up close is different, isn't it?"
Maya clenched her jaw. "She's the same."
Zeyla hummed. "No. She's not." Her voice was quieter now, as if she, too, was weighing something unspoken. "She is… more than what people think. And you—" She pointed at Maya, "—you just stepped into a world where she sees you. Where she expects something from you."
Maya tensed. "I won't fail her."
Zeyla let out a short laugh. "Oh, I know you won't." She leaned against the wall, her expression turning thoughtful. "But serving Lady Noor isn't just about competence. It's about understanding her."
Maya frowned. "What do you mean?"
Zeyla looked past her, towards the closed doors of Noor's chambers. "No one truly knows her," she said. "Not entirely. She's built walls so high that even those closest to her can only catch glimpses through the cracks."
Maya remained silent.
Zeyla turned her gaze back to her. "You saw something that night, didn't you?"
Maya's stomach twisted.
Zeyla's smirk faded. "You saw her fight. Bleeding, relentless."
Maya looked away. "I saw her dying." The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Zeyla's eyes darkened, the usual playfulness in her gaze replaced with something heavier. "And yet, she lived."
Maya swallowed. "I don't understand how."
Zeyla exhaled. "You're not supposed to." She gave a small shrug. "That's Madam Noor."
Maya tightened her grip on her sleeves. "I just don't want to be weak again."
Zeyla was silent for a moment before she chuckled, the sound surprisingly gentle. "You think you're weak?"
Maya's jaw clenched, but she didn't answer.
Zeyla shook her head. "You survived war. You trained harder than anyone. And now, you stand here, ready to serve a woman most people fear to even look in the eye." She stepped closer, her voice quieter now. "You're not weak, Maya. But if you ever let that fear control you, then that—" she tapped a finger against Maya's temple, "—is what will break you."
Maya met her gaze.
Zeyla held it for a beat before smirking again. "Besides, now that you're her secretary, you won't have time for fear." She winked. "You're going to be drowning in work."
Maya let out a breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. "Great."
Zeyla grinned. "Welcome to hell, Secretary Maya."
With that, she turned on her heel and strode away, leaving Maya standing there, the weight on her chest just a little lighter.