Nashr leaned forward, his amethyst gaze now sharpened, radiating a thrilling intensity. "She will become my wife. After she comes of age, of course. She shall be raised and educated in the capital of Talrakia. In return, the protection of your Clan is guaranteed, by my decree, so long as she remains in my possession."

Eldeghai fell silent, pierced by the Commander's declaration. All this time, Eldeghai had refused every offer for Entya. His resistance was rooted not in emotional closeness, but because the girl was the sole living legacy of Temir, his lost son and the clan’s vanished heir, who disappeared after his travels and his fateful meeting with her mother. Losing Temir left a gaping wound that had never truly healed, and now, a commander from Talrakia came to claim the last precious remnant of that sorrow.

Eldeghai glanced at the faces of the other elders, who collectively bore the decision's crushing weight. Their pleading, urgent expressions made clear the choice: it was no longer about Entya, but the survival of the entire clan. The recent death of Jochi provided a stark contrast, forcing him to sacrifice his own granddaughter. This exchange was cruel, yet it stood as the singular, unrefusable guarantee for the Salkha Clan's future.

Eldeghai took a long, heavy breath, the weight of an infinite burden settling upon him. After a silent moment, he concluded the bargain. "I accept your terms, Lord Nashr," he whispered, his voice broken and barely audible. "Entya is yours."

Some time later, as the post-war silence deepened, Bataar entered the main ger, his steps heavy and hurried, his face somber. He quickly found Entya and Yul in the emergency ger. Entya was tending to Yul, who was propped up and sipping broth, looking severely weak and pale with deep shadows beneath his eyes.

"Entya, Elder Eldeghai wants to speak with you," Bataar told her quietly, his eyes betraying a visible worry. "Yul... you should come too."

Entya rose, her heart hammering as a terrible premonition took hold. Following Bataar and the supported Yul, she left the emergency ger and its lingering scent of grief. They approached the Elder's ger, now bathed in the unusual yellow light of many torches, where they found Eldeghai standing rigid beside the unfamiliar maroon-haired commander: Nashr.

The instant Entya stepped inside, Nashr's universe shattered and reformed around her. Every external noise was eclipsed, his awareness consumed by a pure harmony centered solely on her. The subtle vibration he felt became a magnificent orchestra, vibrating every cell in his body, far surpassing the former silent hum.

All that remained was her.

Entya. The Source. She was the cosmic harmony he had searched for, now materialized just steps away, in a small girl with larimar eyes and charcoal hair. The purity of her essence stilled the raging tempest of his own being. A faint smile touched his lips, belonging to one who, after a long silence, had finally heard the true echo of his soul.

"Entya," Elder Eldeghai's voice pierced the silence, briefly interrupting Nashr's reverie, though the powerful resonance continued to pulse through his very cells. "The Salkha Clan has accepted Talrakia's protection. You will therefore accompany Lord Nashr and become his intended wife."

The words struck Entya like a physical blow, instantly crumbling her world. For Yul, the impact was utter devastation; the wound she had healed now throbbed with a pain that eclipsed his battlefield injuries. His physical agony was nothing compared to the terror that gripped his soul as he met Nashr's gaze. Though Yul was no coward, having faced wolves and bandits, the Commander's eyes were unlike anything he had seen: devoid of mercy or respect, they held only the absolute focus of a predator.

"What, Grandfather? Intended wife?" Entya's weak cry was background noise to Nashr, but it whipped Yul's senses.

"No, Elder! She's just a child!" Yul snapped hoarsely, forcing his weakened body to stand as a shield between the girl and the Commander.

Nashr gave Yul a brief, dull glance. The defiance forced him to expose an unwelcome crudeness before Entya. He didn't want to be seen like this. Not now. His cold indifference struck Yul deeper than any physical blow, shattering his control. Rationality collapsed, yielding to a raw, animalistic instinct to protect. Yul roared and lunged; Nashr dodged easily, and Yul’s attack slammed into the ger's main support pillar. The violent impact sent the structure creaking, spilling hearth fire onto the rug, and sparking immediate panic.

Amidst the chaos he created, Yul's long-suppressed emotion exploded.

"ENTYA IS NOT YOURS!"

Moving like a shadow, with cold efficiency rather than anger, Nashr reached him before the pillar gave way. He darted past the flame, grabbed Yul's arm, and executed a single, swift rotation, slamming the young man down. Yul lay sprawled on his knees, his joint nearly dislocated, his attack ending instantly in painful humiliation.

Nashr leaned down, his lips near Yul's ear. The heavy scent of agarwood overwhelmed Yul's senses. "She is already mine," Nashr whispered, flatly and unemotionally, like a death sentence.

A pale Eldeghai was forced to order Yul's removal. Reluctantly, the Salkha warriors lifted their struggling comrade, whispering apologies under their breath as they carried him out. Yul fought their grasp, his eyes locked on Entya in a desperate plea, "Entya! Don't go!"

Ignoring the chaos, Nashr turned his attention back to Entya, who stood frozen, tears streaming down her cheeks. In her larimar eyes, he found something strangely more engaging than her power: her vulnerability, her fracture.

He advanced with calm certainty. Entya tensed, bracing for the worst, but Nashr slowly lifted his hand. As his rough, gentle thumb wiped away a tear, a powerful surge of energy pulsed from his touch, vibrating through Entya. The connection was brief, yet surprisingly warm.

"The decision is final," he stated, his voice low and personal, meant only for her. As his eyes traced her features, memorizing them, he added, "I am taking you home."

Outside, Yul’s voice became audible, escalating into a desperate, heartbreaking warning—a scream of pure terror and fading strength.

"ENTYA! RUN FROM HIM! LOOK AT HIS EYES! HE WILL DEVOUR YOU ALIVE!"

Bonus Nashr Illustration