Kingdom of Durja

Tall boundary wall covered in moss welcomed them with a warmth of a mother. A sense of familiarity hit their nerves like an old friend. Each one cheered and hooted as they galloped pass the gigantic iron gate handled by a small troop of soldiers. They were few hours away from their home and the excitement to get back home had reached its peak. Twenty-four Yujyagana and a prince were riding back to Durja after almost five months of being away. Although they relish the long travels around Lambodara, they loved their home more than anything.

It had to be, wasn't it? But prince of Durja remained unperturbed on returning to his land after so long. The palace had always been a distant bond to him. Despite holding the crown prince title, he had been the less favoured child by the family and the royal court. Perhaps the queen's favour to her own children and her influence on courtier had turned the court's loyalty on them instead of remaining with him.

Dhruva let the emotion run pass him as they together raced towards the golden city gates as it slowly tore open to welcome its crown prince and his Yujyagana. Durja's proud crest of a war elephant trumpeting with its two legs raised up standing on its hind welded to the gate greeted him with bravery and strength as it would all the time.

How irony? Someone from a kingdom known for its bravery were attacking another kingdom in a hush and in such a dishonourable manner. It was an act of cowardice, he called and on the hunt for the coward, he was.

Dhruva took no more than an hour to get himself freshen and readied himself to meet the king and the queen who demanded his presence in the former's office room. The walk from his chamber to the king's wing had been a tedious one, especially for his little brain, trying to come up with plausible answers for the predictable questions his father would ask him. Nevertheless, as he reached the large iron double door guarded by four well trained guards, the chatter in his mind vanished.

Gush of cold breeze brushed him as the doors opened, the front most of the office was the waiting room, bronze-coloured velvet curtain embroidered with silver motifs hung behind the exquisite chairs parting the chamber into two. His gaze fell on the scattered papers and loose petals of duke jasmine laid on the floor in the waiting room. The presences of his step-sisters were clearly on display for only they had the privilege for such flower. The sound of giggles and muffled voices told him they were still in office room.

Dhruva parted the curtain, his father, the king of Durja was seated behind the desk. The last time Dhruva met his father, his hair had more black than grey but five months later grey had taken over. The king appeared older than his age but nonetheless happier with his daughters and wife, the widen smile and deepen lines at the corner of his eyes said so much.

The room came to a pin drop silence. The crown prince always had the effect of silencing the room by his presence not because of he was a crown prince but simply because he was him. The son of the late queen Brinda, the legitimate heir of the throne, the most looked upon royal child and the most favoured prince in the army yet not liked by the queen and her children.

It was expected of them to shun him since the queen and her children might have received second class treatment many years ago by almost everyone but his father displaying the similar cold shoulder showed him how unimportant he was to the king. Things had been different before his mother passed and before the current queen had her first child. Back then, his father loved and adored him for the equal love and kindness he showed everyone.

Now, in front of him seated was the king who only sees him as a crown prince whom he most likely wasn't happy to have him hold the title, or so he thought. Sometimes, his father's action would have him wonder if his father was persuadable by the queen. Nonetheless, Dhruva put on a smile and marched forward. He greeted the king and the queen with a curtsy bow and a formal nod to his sisters who had averted their gaze away from him. He wished they would return his gesture with at least a small smile.

Too bad. Next time.

"Yuvaraja," the queen gasped in excitement. She rose from her seat and rushed to his side. She winced slightly. Her soft hands cupped his face tenderly for once she truly appeared to have missed his presence in the family but the visible forced smile was enough to defy it.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Oh, of course I am. It just a little pain in the abdomen everything else is fine," she said.

Dhruva responded with a smile and faced the king. "You called for me, Your Majesty."

Yogathepan adjusted the silk shawl on his shoulder and straighten himself on his chair. "Yes. I heard you were back and wanted to see you. How was the stay in Haridra? And how is the queen?" he asked as he picked a fully ripe banana from a platter of fruits laid on his desk.

"Grandmother is well and healthy. Haridra... magnanimous as always." Despite not having seen his maternal grandmother for more than six months, he was certain she was fit and slaying as usual with her regal demeanour.

"Good to hear that. And I did receive a couple of letters from the queen of Haridra letting me know of your contributions to the locals in need last month. As the grandson of Queen Naavarasi, I am proud of your selfless activity," he nodded softly, keeping the skin of the fruit on an empty platter.

Confusion swirled for a moment before Dhruva realised his grandmother had covered up for him. Oh, his sweet grandma, his saviour. But wait, there was a flood in Haridra? How had she managed it all alone? Of course, she has ministers and armies at her disposal but it would never be like to be with loved ones during the time of need. His mind swam to Haridra, the duties of a grandson pushed him to be with his grandmother.

The tinkles on his sister's bangle pulled him back to his father's office room. He tentatively nodded and reported to his father of the unexpected monsoon in Haridra and other details he could make out from his imaginary stay in Haridra.

"Good. Good." The king left his seat and saunter to the window overlooking a large garden intersect by a manmade lake. "Now that you are here, I want you to head to Yalin. Flash floods are raising in Durja too, Yalin had been worst. Perhaps you can use your experience in Haridra here as well," the king ordered.

"Maharaja, the young prince is there, he will take care of it. Furthermore, Dhruva had just returned and you intend send him to another? Let him rest, Your Majesty." The queen insisted, concern laced on her words.

"Yes, father. I am sure brother Prithvi will manage," said the queen's first born, Hamsavalli. Tall as him and heftier than him. Hamsavalli was the splitting image of her mother which sometimes makes one who aren't familiar around them to switch identities between the two. "Prithvi is big enough to supervise the relief works."

"I know he can but someone to guide him will make things better. Prithvi although big enough he still lacked in experience and knowledge. Dhruva's presence and guide will do only good to people," the king said firmly.

The crown prince maintained his silence while the king, queen and his half-sisters discussed over the need of his travel to Yalin. If he was given a choice, he would gallop away to Yalin not to assist his young half-brother but to be away from the growing hatred in the family. Plus, this trip may or may not strengthen the bond between the brothers who hardly shared a moment together.

"It's final. Dhruva, you will head out to Yalin tomorrow. Pick your troop and I look forward for a smooth and quick fix. Yalin needs to be back on its feet soon," the king announced and headed out leaving with the queen and princesses tailing him.

As the queen marched past him, Dhruva noticed her tighten jaw, narrowed eyebrows and measured smile. His step-mother was not happy with the king sending him to Yalin and he wondered why.

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Yalin, Durja

He received the best welcome in Yalin especially from the man he calls mama, who had come to Yalin with the young prince for the recovery work. The announcement of his arrival had had Megavannan sprint from one end to another to greet his prince. The veteran warrior engulfed Dhruva in a bone crushing hug and strong pats on his back.

"Mama, good to see you too." Dhruva returned his affection.

"So happy to see you, son." Megavannan's proud gaze fixated on Dhruva. "How did it go? Do you get into any trouble? Were they kind to you? What did they do when they found who you were?"

"Calm down. Calm down, mama." Dhruva held Megavannan by his arms. "All went well and they treated me as how one would to someone offering them help."

The aged guard raised an eyebrow, he was in a mixture of disbelief and shocked of their reception for the son of the ruler who had been attacking them for so long. "They did not question you?"

"Of course, they did but it was only until I told them the truth of my visit. The princes were kind, humble and more so grateful." Dhruva paused and took a glance at the bracelet circled his wrist. A smile spread on his lips. "We managed to bring the survivors to their families," he finished as the duo walked up to the relief camp. The guards Dhruva had picked for the work followed them in a measured distance while the duo shared events happened in their absences.

Dhruva's first few inquiries were on Ilyadari locals and Parigosh tribe. At a corner of his mind, he had the fear if they would truly accept each other given their differences. Nevertheless, Megavannan's source of news from Ilyadari gave him the relieve he needed to set his doubts free from the cage of his mind. However, the devastating find on Runai sea a month ago by Megavannan had left him distorted leaving him disturbed until he was distracted by other events in Yalin.

The relief unit were stationed a few meters away from the flood affected areas, up on a small hill where one can afford a wider view of the village. Dhruva expected the progress to be less than half done but it seemed his brother had indeed surprised him with the well-coordinated and speed work. The last few ruined houses displayed how bad the flood had been but the now sturdy standing houses told him how quick and effectively the support team from the palace has done their work. Well done, Prithvi.

Dhruva nodded his head with a smile acknowledging his brother's work with pride. His eyes trained to the workers assembled at the far end of the completed houses, his brother Prithvi in the centre. Dressed as the locals in tunic and dhoti-pants, broad-shouldered, half-a-head shorter than him, with deep brown skin and with an innocent smile, he stood in the centre amiably throwing instructions.

"His quite the leader." The older brother's face lit with proud smile. "But it's sad that I never got to know him even a little." Dhruva heaved a sigh of deprive and gave his head a pitiful shake. What wrong had he done but being the son of the late queen and the legitimate heir of Durja's throne. It wasn't his mistake, was it? Why had she need to show all the affection he had lost with his mother only to take it away from him after she had her own children? And to have him deprived of fatherly, motherly and siblings' love?

"Now it's the time, son. There is no one to stop the both of you from having a good conversation or meddle with your bonding. I believe Rajakumar Prithvi would be happy to have you by his side in his first venture out as the young prince of Durja," Megavannan patted the crown prince's back.

Dhruva's gaze swept back to the centre of the now dispersed crowd, his brother stood with his hands on his hips, a smile of satisfaction spread across his face. "I hope he is just as happy as I am to work together," he wished, with anxiety flooding in his head.

The chances of him being shunned by Prithvi like his sisters have been for many years was high. Despite that, he knew he still stand a chance to make it up with his only brother this time. Dhruva slowly climbed down the steep hill and plodded towards his brother who had his back face him. As his feet eat up the distance between them, his throat began to dry and his palms wet. He braced himself with a deep breath, "Prithvi," he called.

The young prince lifted his gaze to find his brother standing behind him in a similar dress as him. Little startled, Prithvi, fought for word to speak and merely curtsy his brother with a bow without meeting the longing pair of eyes.

"How you doing?" Dhruva asked to start a conversation with a batted anticipation.

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