The storm's rage had spent itself, leaving behind only silence. The sea, once wild as a wounded lion, now shimmered beneath the morning sun, calm and endless.
Nyasha clung to the shattered beam, her body weak, her lips cracked by salt and wind. The taste of the sea was bitter on her tongue, but she would not let go.
Her mind drifted between waking and dream. In the soft rise and fall of the waves, she saw Kirimaara. She heard the drums of home. She felt the strength of Kiini Kiro — the center of all life — holding her spirit steady, even as her body threatened to fail.
> "I am Nyasha wa Kinywa. Daughter of Chief Kinywa wa Kobia. The sea will not take me."
Hours passed. Or was it days? She did not know.
Then — sails.
White sails, gliding like great birds across the blue.
---
The ship that drew near was not a slavers' vessel. Its sides gleamed with lacquered wood, its sails marked with symbols she did not know.
Voices shouted in a tongue unfamiliar to her ears. Ropes flew. A hook caught the broken beam and drew her close.
Hands — cleaner, gentler than those that had once bound her — lifted her from the sea.
Nyasha's eyes fluttered open just long enough to see their faces: pale, curious, wary. Soldiers of an empire she had never imagined.
> "A sea spirit?" one murmured in his strange language.
> *"No — a woman," another said. "A woman of the darkest ebony. The emperor must see this."
Before she could speak, darkness claimed her.
---
When Nyasha woke again, she lay upon soft cushions. The scent of strange herbs filled the air. Silk curtains swayed with the ship's gentle motion.
Her wrists were no longer bound, but she knew — freedom was still far away.
And beyond the walls of this ship lay a land of dragons, emperors, and a destiny Kiini Kiro had chosen for her.