Yusuf walked.

Yusuf remembered his grandfather’s words: “In the time of fitan, the worst fitna is the one that wears the cloak of truth.”

On the third day, he found the army. Thousands of men in black turbans, carrying swords that reflected no light. Their leader, a man with one eye and a silver tongue, knelt before Yusuf.

“Yusuf ibn Salim,” it crackled, “the Black Flags will rise from the east. You alone have been chosen to lead.”