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Amastan joined her, handing her a curved dagger etched with ancient symbols.
“We fight shadows, not only men,” he said. “But the desert is ours.”
Anna nodded, feeling the weight of both blade and burden.
“They say the spies from Algiers watch us like vultures,” Fatima said softly. “Some think we are doomed.”
Anna looked to the horizon where the dunes rolled like waves. The sun blazed down, relentless and merciless.
> Freedom is a flame fed by hope and fed upon by fear. To keep it alive, we must choose which winds to trust.
The desert wind carried secrets as Anna sat beneath the acacia, her fingers tracing patterns in the warm sand. Around her, the freed tribe busied themselves preparing the day’s tasks. Yet shadows lingered—whispers of dissent, fear, and betrayal.
A young freed woman, Fatima, approached hesitantly. Her eyes were heavy with worry.
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Inspired by @Diane-de-la-Cheneraye