Chapter 1
Chapter One: The Cursed Legacy
> “Fear of the truth is the truth itself. It is not merely a feeling, but the hidden force that drives our decisions. When you take an action, you do not truly choose the act itself—you choose how to face your fear of it: either to overcome it, or to remain its prisoner. Yet the real question is not about fear, but about regret at death; does regret absolve the dying, or is it itself a form of punishment?”
In The Baradies, there was no place for fear.
If you lacked courage and strength, your options were few
a quick death, or a life of humiliation.
Power was divided among five great families, each with its own influence and loyal soldiers. But the throne could belong to only one.
The ruler was chosen through a strict, merciless ritual:
each family selected two of its finest to fight to the death against the champions of the others.
The two survivors would then battle each other—and the one who lived became the new ruler.
In this world, there was no room for the weak.
No salvation for those without the will to fight.
So the question remained:
Is a leader born… or made ?
The Five Families
Each family carried its own legacy and power.
The Amaleeq were known for their massive builds and raw strength.
even their weakest could bend a sword with bare hands.
They were named after their forefather, the first to unite the clans by sheer might.
It was said: “The wrath of the Amaleeq is an earthquake none can withstand.”
The Banu al-Waleed were born duelists.
Among the families, it was said, “A child among them is born with his sword.”
No one could match their mastery in one-on-one combat. Their swords were never for hire, for they served no one but themselves.
The Banu al-Layth were the embodiment of courage.
Their ancestor once faced a lion to save his sons, earning them their name—“the sons of the lion.”
They feared no death, seeing it as the path to glory.
They always led the charge in battle; even their enemies respected their bravery.
The Banu al-Asfar were the wealthiest and most cunning.
They wielded gold and deceit like twin blades.
They did not fight with swords but with schemes.
It was said they toppled rulers not by force, but by stripping them of everything until they could no longer rule themselves.
The Banu al-Hakam were feared by all.
not for strength, nor wealth, but for invention.
From their forges came engines of war,
and from their minds, weapons that changed the world.
They were not soldiers, but they built armies without men .
The Chosen of Al-Layth
The current king, Malik ibn Anas of Banu al-Layth, had grown old.
He was called “The strongest of all who ruled Al-Bardees.”
But was that title mere chanceor truly earned?
Now, as the time for the Succession Duel approached, each family had chosen its champions.
All except one.
Banu al-Layth had none
for the warrior they wanted refused to fight.
The family’s patriarch, Anas ibn Sa’d ibn al-Layth, entered his son’s chamber unannounced.
Malik looked up, startled.
His father’s voice was sharp.
“You will represent our family in the duel.”
Malik shook his head. His voice was calm, but firm.
“I won’t do it.”
The words struck his father like a blade.
No one of Banu al-Layth had ever dared disobey.
“Why do you refuse?” Anas demanded, his breath burning with anger.
Malik replied quietly,
“Because I do not wish to kill one of my brothers.”
Rage flashed in Anas’s eyes.
“If you do not fight,” he growled,
“I’ll make you kill your brothers with your own hands—without a duel.
The Blood of Three Houses
Malik had not been chosen by chance.
His skill with the sword was unmatched; he could defeat a seasoned fighter blindfolded.
His mother, Sarah bint Salim ibn al-Waleed, gave him the blood of both al-Layth and al-Waleed.
He had been sent as a child to live among her kin, where he learned the art of combat and soon surpassed even his elders.
His paternal grandfather, Sa’d ibn al-Layth, had married Layla of the Amaleeq.
Thus, in Malik flowed the blood of three great houses—
strength, skill, and courage united.
Anas finally relented.
Malik would fight—but none of his brothers would.
Another warrior would stand beside him
The Duel of Destiny
The day of the duel arrived.
The second fighter of Banu al-Layth entered the arena, masked and silent.
When the combat began, Malik froze in disbelief.
The masked warrior was his own brother—Yusuf ibn Anas.
Together, they fought fiercely against the champions of the other houses.
One by one, their enemies fell,
until only the brothers remained.
The crowd went silent.
Only one could live.
Malik had already decided:
he would surrender.
Power meant nothing to him compared to the thought of spilling his brother’s blood.
During the intermission, he went to his father and confessed his intention to withdraw.
He asked that the ruler be informed.
But fate had other plans.
The Ruler’s Wrath
The reigning king, Dhirgham ibn Salim of Banu al-Waleed, refused Malik’s withdrawal with fury.
“If they do not fight to the death,” he declared,
“Banu al-Layth shall be banished from the duels forever!
And if they refuse to fight—execute them both!”
This was not justice.
It was vengeance.
Years ago, Dhirgham’s only son had been slain—
by Malik himself.
That son was not only his heir, but his dearest pupil.
And the cruelest truth? Malik was Dhirgham’s nephew.
He had trained the boy, loved him as his own—
and lost his real son to his brother’s son.
Now, Dhirgham wanted the same pain repaid in kind.
The Brothers’ Battle
The arena fell silent.
The wind whispered across the dust like the ashes of the dead.
Malik stood at one end, his sword trembling in his grasp—
for the first time in his life.
Across from him, Yusuf gripped his weapon tightly, calm but burning with sorrow.
Dhirgham raised his hand and roared:
“Let the duel begin!”
Malik hesitated.
Yusuf did not.
He attacked with all his strength, each strike faster and heavier than the last.
“Why are you attacking me like this?!” Malik shouted.
“Because these are the rules!” Yusuf roared,
his voice echoing through the dust and blood.
Each blow could have killed.
Malik barely blocked, stepping back,
his heart breaking with every swing.
Then—
in a desperate moment—Malik feinted left, dropped low, and caught Yusuf’s arm.
“Stop!” he gasped.
“You don’t want to kill me…
You want me to kill you!”
Yusuf froze.
His eyes softened with strange peace.
At last, a faint smile.
“At last,” he whispered,
“you understand.”
Before Malik could react,
Yusuf pushed forward—straight into Malik’s sword.
The blade pierced his chest.
Blood poured freely, soaking the dust red.
Yusuf fell to his knees and collapsed into Malik’s arms.
“Why… why did you do this?!” Malik cried, pressing his hands over the wound as if he could keep his brother’s life from slipping away.
Yusuf looked up, his voice faint but serene.
“This world isn’t worth living in,” he murmured.
“You’ll endure it better than I ever could.”
Then he closed his eyes—forever.
And thus,
Malik ibn Anas became the ruler of The Baradies .
