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As the eclipse reached totality, the desert fell into darkness, lit only by fire and war cries echoing like ancestral drums.
She raised Azul to her lips and kissed his brow. “He will remember us. Even if history forgets.”
The first arrows flew, glinting silver in the dim eclipse light. Amastan roared, charging down the dune with his warriors. Dust rose in spiralling veils, horses screaming, steel meeting steel in thunderous collision.
Anna stayed atop the ridge, whispering prayers and oaths into the wind:
> Let our freedom be the sun that never sets. Let our children walk unchained upon this earth.
Drums thundered in the enemy camp. The Janissary mercenaries formed tight ranks of steel, banners snapping in the dying wind. At their head rode an Ottoman bey, clad in gilded armour, flanked by African cavalry.
Anna turned to Amastan. “The old legends say an eclipse is a doorway between worlds.”
He lifted his scimitar, black robes rippling like crow wings. “Then today we choose which world we fight for.”
Callista whispered, “The sun is rising strange today.”
Anna nodded. Over the distant dunes, a sliver of crimson light emerged – and then dimmed, swallowed by shadow. A solar eclipse began, casting the desert in unnatural twilight.
A dark stillness fell over the oasis as dawn approached. The wind died, and the sky turned an eerie grey. Anna stood upon a dune ridge, Azul swaddled against her chest, watching the horizon with wary eyes. Amastan and the warriors gathered below, tightening leather straps and checking arrowheads.
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Cool eclipse!