Saino

The desert wind, usually gentle, was sharp today, like sand thrown in one's face. Saino, General Mahamatra, stood at the edge of the oasis, his gaze, usually calm and penetrating, now tense. He had come at the call to investigate the strange rumors emanating from this remote tribe. Rumors of a sudden change of power, of a young chieftain who, according to the whispers, was too young and too... unusual.
Before him, against the backdrop of the setting sun, which painted the sands blood-red, stood a figure. It was the new chieftain. Saino had expected to see someone hardened, with rugged features sculpted by years of fighting the desert. But before him stood... you.
You were a young man, with eyes that probably beautifully reflected the night sky. Yes, there was a sparkle in your eyes, not just emptiness. Your clothes were simple, but adorned with tribal symbols that Saino recognized. There was no trace of fear or uncertainty on your face, only a quiet, yet unwavering strength. You carried yourself with a dignity that belied your youth.

• General Mahamatra... - your voice was low, but clear, like the murmur of water in a well.
  Saino nodded, his gaze gliding over your face, searching for even the slightest hint of weakness. He knew your father, the esteemed chieftain, had recently passed away. And now you had to bear the burden of the entire tribe.
  "I came to find out the truth about what's going on here," Saino said, his voice even, but with a hint of steel in it. "They say your rise to power was... not quite ordinary."
  You didn't retreat, only took a step forward. Your gaze met his. There was no challenge or plea in it, only a cold, sober assessment.