1 Confrontation

Flashing across the combat square in the Palace of Kzahmut, a warrior sparred with fifteen automated wooden warriors that moved using gears. Their limbs held spears, swords, and hidden daggers that bounced back in continuous response like in a real-life battle. It was clear that the warrior had excellent skills and lightning speed as he jumped away from one wooden warrior's deadly attack and leaped between the double-edged sword and spiked armor of another. With perfect timing and precision of movements, he slid through the narrow gap of their weapons, landing gracefully on the ground behind them before throwing jagged star-shaped metals, which we so often see the Ninjas use. These were the special keys that marked the end of the combat practice. As the jagged star-shaped metals turned a niche in three of the wooden warriors, their movements slowed down as one limb after the next dropped to their sides. At that moment, the warrior whose beautiful bronze skin glistened with sweat under the sun reached out, and a towel on a golden tray in the hands of a slave boy who seemed to suddenly materialize out from nowhere appeared before scurrying hurriedly away. Who was this mighty man whose face made even a grown man stare in wonder?

"A thousand apologies, oh mighty Sultan Ra, Lord of Lords, Ruler of the World!" rang a greeting across the Combat Square. Yes- the name indeed fitted him. His eyes were different hues of green, like a marvelous priced emerald that shines so brightly because it was blessed with a drop of the sun's rays mingled with magical dedications. His dark brown hair was disheveled from his morning exercise, falling in all the right places, framing an oval-shaped face, noble nose, and full red lips like that of a cherry. Yet as lovely as his face may sound, one look at his body and one could not be deceived that a deadly opponent was before him - with his tall, muscular but lean body with powerful hands like a lion's paws - a single slap across the face and one would expect to have his head severed from his body to fly through the air like a meteorite.

"Sire! Please come! It is Her Highness Princess Mirah again. Please…Please hurry," begged Alihan, who ran aimlessly, blinded by his tears.

"Don't despair, my dearest friend; she shall be dealt with. Ring the bell to summon my daughter." Sultan Ra said kindly. Even at 40, Sultan Ra was as striking as a young man half his age, even though crow lines were starting to form around his eyes. Sixteen years ago, two of the most beautiful children were born to him. For many years, his handsome face would light up with love, pride, and delight whenever he caught sight of his twin girls. Even from birth, they were as different in appearance as they were in character. If he had not witnessed their births, he would have thought that one of them had been dumped on him to deceive him.

"Greetings, father!" Mirah snapped. "How could you? By ringing that bell, Kzahmut and the markets surrounding it know I have been summoned to the throne room! Am I some animal? Am I your pet? To come and go as you see fit?" Her eyes glared with a fury that turned her green eyes brighter than the deepest emerald.

"It is because, my darling daughter, that we never know where you are. It is the fastest way. After all, it is of no shame. To hold court with the Universal Monarch is an honor indeed."

"Bah!! Lies!" Mirah's hand flew in the air as if her father's words were daggers flying out to stab her while she was defending herself by hitting them away with the back of her hand. That's why you are a Universal Monarch! You lie so well that it is almost convincing. You never do that to your precious Mu… nikah! That is unfair, cruel, and plain selfish!! I have a reputation for upkeep. Father or not, I am the best warrior in the country with the largest number of troops!" She stormed her feet on the ground like a child in rage. But this was no ordinary child. Even sitting 100 paces away from her, Sultan Ra could feel a slight tremor beneath his feet. Such power and strength! If only she had been a boy. He closed his eyes and took a slow deep breath. But what greater horror might a male child with the same sinister ways wreck? It gave him sleepless nights just thinking about it. What did he ever do to deserve such a child?

Steadying his breath, Sultan Ra slowly addressed his younger daughter. "True, Mirah, you can simultaneously take on 10 highly trained warriors. You are swifter and more nimble than I ever was...." Mirah gave a smile of satisfaction. Putting her hands on her full, robust figure, her eyes switched back to their usual color - devilish green eyes that blazed hard like sparkling diamonds to match her spirit, to display all her one thousand and one temperaments. "See! You agree that I am the very best!"

"No, Mirah! I have not completed my sentence!" Sultan Ra's voice boomed so loudly that Alihan had to close his ears to ease his eardrums, for they had begun to hurt with the force that made them vibrate like the drums of the slave dancers. Yet, the Sultan had barely shouted. As much as Alihan loved the gentle Universal Monarch, he shuddered to think what would happen should the Ruler of the world truly wish to unleash all his might as the Sultan continued talking to his impertinent child.

"I am your father, but I am also your Sultan! Perhaps I have been too lenient with you all these years. It is time I speak my mind and tell you that General Dominic is far superior in his skills as a warrior and far more royal in blood than you! Do not presume that you're the best!" Mirah's jaw dropped. Never had she ever expected to hear that. Her kind, soft-spoken, and loving father, an even more remarkable husband towards his late wife, had just reprimanded her.

"But…but..he is only a minor prince!" Mirah stammered, "The second cousin of the great King from Ursa Major, who has 8 sons! I, on the other hand, am third in line to your throne!" She knew well that the General defeated her in military strategy and combat. That was what she hated most of all! That she couldn't win against him, nor could she have him. Not by will nor by force. Not even through her beauty or charm. She swore she would make him eat dirt for rejecting her when she took over as Queen!

"Enough! Do not toy with me, child! I may love you, but I am the Sultan because I read the nature of men all too well!" When he wished, Sultan Ra was all a Universal Monarch should be - judgmental, righteous, strong, domineering, yet unbelievably gorgeous, and compassionate - a true kinsman and leader, a healer.

"I have heard that you are beating up the elite warriors again. What do you have to say about this?" Sultan Ra demanded.

"It was good, clean fun!!" Mirah flashed a smile that could have melted many hearts with its charm, but Sultan Ra was in no mood to be swayed.

"There is nothing good or clean about wasting our army's resources. Much gold, time, and effort have been spent training them into the very best. You have set us back by many years each time you thoughtlessly cripple them. How will we protect our country if you keep breaking an arm or a leg here and there? Worse still!!!! You enjoy tearing off their limbs!" Still haunted by the memory of the soldiers who had been brought to him, his mighty hands gripped the edge of his throne so hard that if it were not made partly of steel, gold, and diamonds, his fingers would have reshaped it as quickly as dough. However, Mirah remained unafraid and bored. She thought herself supreme. To her, her father's compassion for the feelings of his subjects, from the very highest of his cabinet ministers and princes to the very lowest of commoners, was an unfortunate weakness. A sign that the throne was ripe for the taking by someone stronger - Her! Just the thought of her father, Sultan Ra, still sitting on the golden seat blessed by the Gods was just utter nonsense. With that thought, she rolled her eyes, angered Sultan Ra even more. "You are grounded from all combat practices until further notice!! Do you hear if I catch you disobeying, it is the whip?"

Mirah clenched her teeth and trembled in a fury. There had only been once when Sultan Ra whipped her - for pulling out the fingernails of a slave girl. She never forgot it. It stung right into her flesh, biting at it like a hungry wolf before tearing bits of her meat off. She could not sit or move without flinching in great pain for six months. "Hm." Mirah nodded sharply and turned towards the great gigantic doors of the throne room. As the fiery general princess left for her chambers, walking along the corridors, her hair flew wildly in the wind as she marched swiftly and haughtily.

"They say she was named Mirah cos' of her red hair. But I say it's cos although Mirah (ruby) is rare and precious, it is also soft and easily destroyed. Such is her destructive rage that it would ruin her one day in an instant! Mark my words, child… the higher the ruby goes, the more pieces it will shatter into when it falls!" whispered a greying slave who had suffered years of abuse under the princess to her grandchild as they scrubbed the floors of the grand hallway. It was lucky for them that Mirah was too preoccupied with her thoughts to have heard the little comment…