Khisa stood at the edge of the Assab port, the salty breeze brushing against his skin as ships creaked gently in the harbor behind him. The scent of ocean wind mixed with firewood and roasted lentils from a nearby cookfire. It reminded him of home—of Nuri—and the long journey that had brought him here.
Khisa had begun the process of pulling back his influence in Abyssinia. He no longer attended strategy meetings unless requested, and even then, he deferred to Tesfaye and Prince Tadesse. It was no longer his war. He had planted the seed, grown it, and now it was time to return to Nuri to ensure its roots did not rot in his absence.
He had drafted a formal handover of responsibilities, sealing it with the royal seal of Abyssinia. Tesfaye had accepted the scroll with solemn honor, his expression unreadable but his voice firm.
"I will not disappoint you, Prince Khisa. You've shown me what our nation can be. I'll see it through."
