Page 27 of Dark Shaman: Eternal Hope
"Better," Kyra said with approval. "That's what Soraya needs to hear. Not rehearsed speeches, but truth."
"It still feels inadequate."
"Honesty, even raw and unpolished, is better than the best rehearsed speech." She took a sip of her coffee and leaned back. "I don't remember our childhood because those memories were stolen from me by an evil male. But I know Soraya now, and I know that she trusts Arezoo's judgment more than she lets on."
"Really?"
"Really. But she needs to test you, to push and see if you'll stand firm. It's not cruelty, and it's not because she thinks you are unworthy or untrustworthy. It's caution."
"I would never hurt Arezoo," Ruvon said immediately.
"I know that. Arezoo knows that. But Soraya needs to know it too, and words alone won't convince her. She'll be watching everything—how you look at her daughter, how you interact with the family, whether you show respect without being obsequious."
"No pressure," he muttered. "Any practical advice? Should I bring flowers?"
"Definitely bring flowers for Soraya. Not red roses, though, those are too forward. Not white, that's for mourning. And definitely not yellow."
"What's wrong with yellow?"
"Betrayal, supposedly. Don't ask me why but avoid them. Pink roses are safe, or a mixed bouquet. Something that shows thought without being overwhelming."
Ruvon pulled out his phone to make notes, then stopped. "This feels ridiculous. I'm a grown man, and I'm terrified of a dinner conversation."
"You're not terrified of the dinner," Kyra said. "You're terrified of not being enough, of being rejected. That's universal. Every person who's ever loved someone has feared not being worthy of that love."
11
ELUHEED
The military transport vehicle bounced over rough terrain, taking Eluheed deeper into a part of the island he'd never seen before. Through the windshield, he caught glimpses of training fields stretching toward the mountains, obstacle courses constructed from logs and rope, and rows of low-slung buildings that looked more functional than aesthetic. This was where Navuh's army lived and trained, far from the luxury of the mansion and seemingly at the opposite side of the island from the opulent harem.
"Civilians never get to see this sector," Navuh said from beside him, his voice carrying that particular tone of satisfaction he got when revealing something he considered impressive. "The military installations are kept confidential."
Eluheed kept his expression neutral as he catalogued every detail. Guard towers at regular intervals. Cameras mounted on poles. Warriors running drills in perfect formations despite the oppressive heat. "It's extensive," he offered because Navuh expected him to say something.
"Over ten thousand warriors are stationed here at any given time," Navuh said. "Though that number fluctuates depending on deployments." He gestured toward a massive concrete structure built into the hillside. "The main barracks are underground. Those flying overhead won't see anything of interest out here. They are also easier to keep cool that way.
The vehicle descended a ramp that led beneath the earth, fluorescent lights replacing sunlight as they went deeper. The air grew cooler, but it didn't turn stale. The space was properly ventilated, but it wasn't as cool as in the harem.
"The ventilation system is ingenious," Navuh continued, clearly enjoying showing off to someone new who was seeing parts of his hidden empire for the first time. "When I bought this island in the 1920s and began construction, air conditioning wasn't widely adopted. Mechanical cooling was unreliable and expensive to maintain on an island. So, I used the gods' proven systems instead. Well, not just any gods. My grandfather was a genius who found simple solutions to complicated problems, like how to make life bearable for people who couldn't tolerate the intense sunlight or the heat it produced."
After the driver parked in an underground garage, they got out and Navuh led Eluheed through a heavy steel door into a wide corridor. The walls were unpainted concrete, utilitarian and harsh, but the air was surprisingly comfortable given that there were no compressors pumping cold air into the submerged space.
"Diagonal ventilation shafts," Navuh explained, pointing to grates set high in the walls. "They create natural convection currents. Cool air is drawn from deep underground while warm air rises and exits through vents in the hillside. The barracks are comfortable even without air conditioning. The only structureI had air-conditioned from the beginning was the harem." He smiled. "My ladies always got the best accommodations."
They walked deeper into the complex, passing dormitories with rows of bunk beds visible through open doors, communal bathrooms, and a mess hall that could seat hundreds. Everything was clean and organized and typically military in its austerity, with no personal touches anywhere. These warriors lived like tools in a toolbox, stored efficiently until needed, but that was not much different than what soldiers contended with in other armies.
"The detention facility is new," Navuh said, leading him through another security checkpoint, where guards looked at Eluheed with frowns but said nothing while bowing to their lord. "We converted part of the original barracks after the rebellion to create a secure detention center. Before that, I just had troublemakers executed, but I need the enhanced ones for future testing, and the regular soldiers acted under coercion, so I decided to spare them."
He sounded so magnanimous, as if it were a huge act of mercy on his part to spare those soldiers.
The corridors grew narrower as they continued, and Eluheed noticed additional cameras here, with overlapping fields of view that eliminated any blind spots. The air grew heavier somehow, though the temperature remained constant.
"The regular soldiers who joined the rebellion are housed together," Navuh said, stopping at a reinforced door with a small window. Through it, Eluheed could see a large room filled with bunk beds, with perhaps forty men sitting or lying on them. "They were followers, not leaders. Susceptible to the influence of the enhanced soldiers but not autonomously rebellious." Navuhmoved on, leading him down another corridor. "The enhanced soldiers are kept in isolation. Solitary confinement."
They reached a heavy steel door marked with two guards standing outside, both holding automatic weapons. At Navuh's nod, one entered a code into a keypad, and the door clicked open.
Beyond was a corridor lined with cells, each with a small window and a food slot. The silence here was oppressive. There were no voices, no movement, just the hum of ventilation, but Eluheed felt something else, a pressure against his mind that made his skin prickle.
