The desert seemed endless …. but Layla no longer felt like the same girl who'd left Qamar Village.
In the days since the Shadow Sultan's trap, she'd carried the shard not only in her hand but in her heart. Its faint glow was a reminder of what she had done and what she still had to do.
Malik walked beside her in silence as they crossed another ridge of windswept sand, his golden eyes scanning the horizon. He'd grown more cautious since the encounter at the ruins.
"The Sultan knows now," he murmured when they stopped to rest. "And he's hunting us harder than before. You can feel it, can't you?"
Layla nodded. She could feel it in the quiet air … the heaviness pressing closer, the shadows in the corners of her vision that vanished when she turned her head.
But she also felt something else.
A spark.
A quiet flame inside her that refused to go out, no matter how dark the desert seemed.
That evening, they stopped at the edge of a vast plain of black glass … cracked and jagged, shimmering faintly under the stars.
"This is the Mirror Field," Malik explained. "What's left after the Sultan tried to burn the desert itself. Nothing lives here anymore… except whispers."
He crouched and touched the cool glass. "We'll make camp here. The shadows won't cross it."
Layla sat down beside him, her eyes following the cracks in the field as they disappeared into the darkness.
After a long silence, she said, "I've been thinking."
Malik looked at her.
"I've been afraid since the night the stars fell," she admitted. "Afraid of the voices I heard. Afraid of leaving home. Afraid of failing you …. and everyone else who's counting on me."
Her fingers tightened around the shard.
"But I think… courage isn't about not being afraid. It's about walking forward anyway. Isn't it?"
Malik didn't answer right away. But then he smiled faintly …. a rare, soft thing that warmed his golden eyes.
"Yes," he said quietly. "That's exactly what it is."
She met his gaze. "Then I'm not going to run anymore. Whatever he throws at me, I'll face it. Even if it scares me. Even if it hurts. Because if I don't…"
She glanced out over the dark field, toward the distant dunes where faint red lightning crackled in the clouds.
"…then no one else will."
Malik studied her a moment longer, then reached out and placed his hand over hers where she clutched the shard.
"Then you are truly the Dreamer," he murmured.
That night, as she drifted to sleep on the cold black glass, the voices in her dreams were no longer whispers of doubt.
They were whispers of promise.
We see you… we believe… you will not break.
The next morning, Malik woke her early.
"The sands are shifting," he said as they packed their things. "He's moving faster now. We'll have to go through the Valley of Ash if we want to reach the Starfall before him."
Layla swallowed … the name alone sent a shiver down her spine.
But she only nodded. "Then let's go."
The Valley of Ash was worse than she could have imagined.
The sands there were gray and heavy, sinking underfoot like wet clay. Blackened skeletons of palm trees jutted from the earth, their branches twisted and bare. A bitter wind howled constantly, carrying dust and whispers of things long dead.
At the center of the valley lay a deep pit, glowing faint red from below.
"This was where he unleashed his worst magic," Malik explained quietly. "Where he broke the pact with the desert. His first act of defiance … and his greatest shame."
Layla stared down into the pit.
The glow grew brighter as she watched. And then …
She heard him.
Not just a whisper this time … but a voice, strong and clear, rising out of the pit.
Dreamer… foolish little Dreamer… come closer. Let me show you what courage costs.
Layla staggered back … but Malik caught her, steadying her shoulders.
"Don't listen," he said firmly, his voice calm despite the storm building around them. "Don't give him even a moment. He wants to shake you."
But Layla shook her head.
"No," she said, surprising even herself. "Let him talk. I want to hear what he has to say."
Malik stared at her … but didn't stop her as she stepped closer to the edge of the pit.
The glow flared as she peered down into the darkness.
A shape writhed there … smoke and fire, barely contained.
So brave now, the Sultan hissed. But what happens when you're alone? What happens when he fails you? When your courage turns to ash, just like this valley?
Layla closed her eyes.
She thought of her mother, whispering bedtime stories in their little house.
She thought of her father, smiling through his quiet sadness.
She thought of Qamar Village, of Malik, of the desert itself humming in her ears.
And she opened her eyes again.
"I'm not alone," she said simply.
The smoke below howled in fury … but dimmed.
Malik's hand touched her shoulder. When she turned, he was smiling faintly.
"You've already won more than he knows," he said.
They left the Valley of Ash together, walking into the wind.
And Layla's heartfelt light … because she knew now that courage wasn't something you were born with.
It was something you chose.
And she would keep choosing it…..
Every single step of the way.