The morning after the Bishar envoy's revelation, the council tent was still silently digesting what was heard.
The elders murmured about the sand worms, and the younger warriors who were allowed to attend the meeting once whispered about the possibility of treasures buried in the sand, but I sat in silence, my thoughts consumed by the image of the so-called "metal bird."
When I spoke to Chief Hasef the night before, I had seen the sharpness in his gaze. He was a man not easily moved by imagination, yet I knew my words had planted something in him. The fact that he hadn't dismissed me outright spoke volumes.
That morning, when the council gathered again, Hasef rose slowly, his presence commanding silence.
