The Wrath of the Unchained-Chapter 139- A Home Between Nations

Lusimba shimmered in the morning light—its red-brick homes and clean roads alive with movement. Children played in wide courtyards, kicking hand-stitched balls and chasing each other around makeshift goalposts. Women laid out vibrant fabrics to dry under the sun, while smiths clanged away in open-air workshops. The scent of fried maize and sweet fermented milk drifted from household hearths. Lusimba was no longer a prototype village. It had become the heart of Nuri’s promise, a living testament to what a united people could build.

Khisa stood at the edge of the newly built town square, overlooking the eastern road. He was restless. It had been nearly three months since he left Abyssinia. He had thrown himself into projects since his return, but now the stillness of waiting left him uneasy.

A messenger, breathless and flushed, approached. "A delegation from Abyssinia has arrived. They are being escorted by the Watchers from the north barracks."

Khisa nodded. "Bring them straight here. Prepare the new guest wing. Have the cooks lay out a proper welcome."

He turned just as the first glint of silver caught his eye. A caravan of finely adorned horses and polished wooden wagons rolled in from the eastern road. The standards—silver-trimmed with the Blue Lion crest—snapped in the breeze. And then he saw her.

A figure poised atop a chestnut mare, cloaked in royal indigo, gold threads glinting in the morning sun. She dismounted with practiced grace. Her smile was calm but unmistakably pleased.

"Azenet?" Khisa murmured, momentarily frozen.

She walked forward, lifting her veil slightly. "I heard Nuri had a capital rising. I wanted to see it for myself."

Khisa stepped closer, a grin breaking across his face.

"You’ve built half the kingdom and yet haven’t written to me even once." She said with mock anger.

He arched a brow. "I was saving it to deliver in person."

He reached for her hand and kissed it gently. "Welcome to Nuri, Princess."

She looked around, eyes drinking in the town’s movement. Children laughing, carts rattling with grain, soldiers training on the hill above. "So this is the place you bragged so much about?"

"This is where I was born. Where it all began. It’s only the beginning. Next time you come, it’ll be even more magnificent."

"Ambitious as always."

"Come, let me introduce you to my mother. You’ll rest first. I know it’s been a long journey."

He signaled a young Watcher. "Take the delegates to the new guest wing and ensure they have everything they need."

Later that evening, at Khisa’s family home, warm light spilled from clay lanterns as laughter and the aroma of seasoned goat stew filled the air. Azenet, seated beside Nanjala, was telling a story about her failed attempt at brewing Abyssinian tej.

"The honey fermented too long. We drank it anyway. One of the ministers thought he was talking to a lion."

Nanjala burst into laughter. "I like you. You’ll fit in well."

Ayuma, sitting on Azenet’s lap, tugged at her cloak. "Do you have lions in your home?"

Azenet smiled. "Real ones? Only in the mountains. But I brought you something."

She pulled out a small, carved lion from her satchel. "His name is Senai. He guards dreams."

Ayuma’s eyes widened. "Can he stay with me?"

"Forever," Azenet said.

Nanjala leaned in, voice warm. "You have my approval. I’ll begin wedding preparations right away."

Khisa nearly choked on his stew. "Mother—give us a little time."

"Nonsense," she said. "I waited too long for this."

The next morning, Azenet stood in the high hall of Lusimba’s new administration building. Ministers of trade, development, and foreign affairs were seated at a long wooden table.

Minister Bako of Trade spoke first. "Princess Azenet, it is an honor. We’ve admired Abyssinia’s resilience."

Azenet bowed slightly. "And we are grateful for Nuri’s unwavering support."

Khisa nodded. "Let’s begin."

Khisa poured her a fresh cup of hibiscus tea from a carved clay jug as they sat beneath the shade of a wide-branched mkuyu tree. Nearby, children played with rolled-up leather balls, laughter ringing through the open courtyard. A pair of women passed with baskets of dried beans balanced on their heads, pausing briefly to bow in greeting.

"I’m glad you came in person," Khisa said, his voice low but sincere. "This feels more real with you here."

Azenet smiled, sipping slowly. "The trip was long, but I wanted to see it with my own eyes. I didn’t want stories—I wanted to feel the soil, breathe the air."

"Did you pass through any settlements along the way?" he asked. "Or bandits?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Some. We stopped in a few emerging towns—most were friendly, curious. Some are already calling this the ’Golden Road.’ Traders from the highlands and even the coast are beginning to test the route. But yes... there were some dangers."

Khisa leaned in. "Go on."

"We were ambushed near the northern escarpment," Azenet said, her tone now sharper. "A group of outlaws. They didn’t know who we were, I’m sure—but they’ve made that corridor unsafe. If this road is to be a lifeline between our kingdoms, it cannot be riddled with risks."

Khisa nodded gravely. "We’ve had reports too. Some of the Watchers are already being deployed to patrol. But we might need waystations—fortified rest points every fifty kilometers or so, with water, food, and troops."

"Agreed," one of the ministers interjected. He was tall, with a long scar down his cheek from earlier wars. "And if we can get some of your architects to collaborate on the stations, they’ll serve both kingdoms well."

Another minister, younger and dressed in a robe embroidered with copper thread, added, "Perhaps some of the freed people Azenet mentioned could help build them. They’ll need work—and we’ll need manpower."

Azenet’s face softened. "Yes. Many of them are willing. They are eager to begin anew. We’ve trained some as stone masons, roofers, even ledger-keepers."

"Good," Khisa said. "We’ll prepare transport by sea from Malindi. Faster, safer. And when they arrive, they’ll be met with dignity. No one who’s survived such horror should ever feel like a burden."

The ministers murmured in agreement.

Queen Nanjala, scribbling something in a small book, looked up and said quietly, "I could help gather names and make a list of skills. We can assign people faster that way."

"That’s a great idea your Majesty. And with the census coming up. It will be much easier to distribute people exactly where they are needed." A minister added.

They shared a brief nod in agreement.

"One more thing," Khisa said, drawing a scroll from his bag. "This is a proposal for coin designs we are working on as stated in the alliance document. worked on refining it as much as possible."

Azenet unrolled the parchment, revealing etchings of intricate coins—one side with the image of a rising sun, the other with a stylized tree, a symbol of Abyssinia.

"Beautiful," she murmured. "And symbolic of both our lands."

"And a sign of unity," she added. "Each coin will be forged by both our smiths, side by side. It’s not just about trade—it’s about trust."

As the wind stirred the scroll between them, Khisa looked up at her, admiration in his eyes. "You didn’t just come to inspect progress. You came to shape the future with me."

"I always intended to," she replied. "I’m not here for ceremony. I’m here to build something lasting."

The discussion flowed easily. Azenet spoke of the road they intended to build between Nuri and Abyssinia. Minister Kamau, head of infrastructure, leaned forward. "We propose building from both ends to meet at the border. It will speed up progress."

"And along the way, we will set up stations," added Minister Wekesa, "with merchants and markets to support your workers. They’ll never go hungry, and the route will be prosperous even during construction."

Minister Naledi of Finance brightened. "Excellent. The design is ready. Distribution will begin in Nuri within weeks. As for your ports?"

Azenet’s tone darkened. "Massawa and Zeila are restless. The Ottomans are growing desperate. Our navy holds, but we expect an assault soon."

Khisa’s gaze sharpened. "What of the Liberation Network?"

"It’s proven to be useful. Your methods have been effective in helping us wakening them."

The ministers murmured in agreement. The meeting ended on hopeful terms.

That evening, long after the ministers had retired and the city square had gone quiet under the soft hum of crickets and distant drums, Khisa led Azenet up a gently sloped hill overlooking Lusimba. The moon hung low and full, casting silver light across the plains, while flickers of torchlight below shimmered like stars on earth.

A rolled-up parchment was tucked under Khisa’s arm.

"This way," he said, guiding her toward a raised wooden platform. It stood surrounded by stones painted white and red—a sacred marker for new beginnings, as was custom in Lusimba.

"What is this place?" Azenet asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face as the breeze picked up.

"Our home," he said simply, "Well one of them. We will have another in the capital, but this is my home and now will also be yours."

He unrolled the parchment on a flat slab of rock. The blueprint was sketched in charcoal and ochre: an elegant, airy structure with high windows, slanted rooftops, a courtyard shaded by jacaranda trees, and a library shaped like a spiral.

"It’ll sit right here," Khisa said, pointing to the drawing and then to the earth beneath their feet. "Facing sunrise. With enough space in the back for a garden... and maybe children."

Azenet was silent for a moment, her gaze scanning both the paper and the horizon. "You remembered I always wanted to grow jasmine and sugar peas."

Khisa smiled. "I remember everything."

He stepped closer, voice softening. "I want this to be the place where our lives finally slow down. No titles. No negotiations. Just... us."

She nodded slowly. "I’ve seen so many palaces and cities... but none of them felt like home. Not until now."

He reached for her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "After the house is complete, I’ll bring the dowry. It’ll be done right, with blessings from both our people. You’ll be welcomed not just as a princess, but as a daughter of Nuri."

Her eyes welled, but she blinked them clear. "And I’ll come not just as a diplomat, but as your wife."

They stood in silence for a while, the future resting between them like something alive. Crickets sang from the tall grass. Distant drums beat softly from the city below, a lullaby of a growing kingdom.

"I’ve always wondered," she whispered, "how two people from such different worlds could meet under such strange circumstances... and end up building one world together."

Khisa turned to her, his voice steady and warm. "Maybe because deep down, we were always dreaming of the same thing. A world with no chains. No masters. Just purpose, peace, and room to breathe."

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "And love?"

He kissed her temple gently. "And love."