Ansa, a village in the southeast of Kavish

The exhausted platoon riding on their horsebacks trotted under the full moonlight to find a decent place to put up for the night. Day and night had become accustom to them that they hardly cared about when they reach their next stop. The last time, Nakshathra checked they were entering the Ansa village located near the coastal of southeast of Kavish.

They reached a clearing close to the coastal and a little further from the village residence. "We shall setup the tents here." Parthiban jumped down from his horse and got into work. Knowing they would be reaching Ansa in the dark; the chief of enforcement had made early preparation of collecting woods for fire and prepared foods beforehand.

Nakshathra meanwhile helped with the other scouts to unload the tents and her medical essentials from the horse carriage they brought along. Her idea of bring her medical essentials had been quite helpful for them throughout their thirty-four-day journey finding for a hint for the kidnappers. She held on to the believe that they would find at least someone who would lead them to the people and eventually to the person behind the hideous act.

Parthiban sauntered towards the open to survey the surroundings and got a glimpse of a group of people boarding into a boat that takes them to a ship waiting a little further from the shore. Sceptical, those could be the village people boarding the boat, he immediately whistled mimicking a bird alerting his guards. Under the dark sky lit by moonlight, he figured out those being pushed into the boat were men and their hands were tied behind them. Bulky men were throwing instruction of what sounded like, "Quick. We don't have all day."

He treaded softly, careful to not make a noise. However, the approaching sound of his troop alerted the men on the shore, the small boat rowed as quickly as it could to reach the ship. Parthiban and his armed guards rushed to the men at the shore and engaged in an intense fight.

Waiting at their newly set up camp, Nakshathra minced back and forth, the sharp and constant clank of swords ringing from the shore sent her signs of danger as her heart beat heavily against her chest. The dark sky, secluded coastal and a little number of armed soldiers by her brother's side disquieted her. Anxious for any unfortunate circumstances, she clamped her damp palms. Time seemed to move slower than ever and she couldn't sit idly any longer. Following her impulse, Nakshathra unsheathed an extra sword from the scabbard tied on Parthiban's horse, she ran to join them.

She carefully prowled following the clanks of swords and grunts. It was a havoc at the shore and before she could make it to the coastline one of the supposed men, they were fighting blocked her way. Towering her with his huge body, he growled attempting to frighten her before swinging a log of wood aiming her head. Quick to her defence, Nakshathra dodged and slashed his midriff with her sword. With him losing his strength she used all of her energy to kick the gigantic man down and pressed her knees on his freshly cut wounds, his yelp boomed. "Tell me who sent you?" she asked.

It was only after she question did, she realised, she did not know what happened. Who were these men and why is her brother and his soldiers fighting with them? He could have been a bandit but his answer proved her right.

"I'm just doing what— ah... ...asked to do," his mumbles and cries brought her concentration back to him.

"What are you'll doing here?" she pressed harder on his wound.

"Sending the captives to our master...." The huge man was barely whispering, she had to bring her ears closer but that was the last she heard from him.

Looking down at his wounds, she regretted to have cut deeply causing him to lose so much of blood. If not for her careless strike, she could have gotten what she wanted from him—information. Pangs of conscience hit her for the man to have lost his life because of her. Her brother's teaching replayed in her mind, 'casualty happens in battles. Don't feel guilty for it. You are fighting for our life. If not theirs, you will be in their place.' She said a quick prayer for the fallen before heading to help her brother battling with two men.

She swung her sword at one of her brother's opponents shielding his attack. Shifting his attention to her, he swung his sword recklessly left and right slitting the surface layer of her arm. Dodging and defencing with utmost precision and giving her share of blood to the land, Nakshathra brought the man down on his knees by slashing his calf deeply. Placing her sword at his neck, she demanded more information.

"Where are you sending them? Who are you working for? SPEAK!"

From the corner of her eyes, she could see many men falling and sprawling. Some demanding them answers for their question. Rejuvenated, she knew she would get to her people sooner. She continued to press the sword to his neck, blood to slowly drip down his neck. "Speak up or you will never see the sun rise again."

Looking straight into her eyes with a mocking smile, "You will never find them," he said and before she could demand for more, he had swallowed a small amount of liquid contained in his ring. Throwing the sword away, she slapped his face, forcing him to spit the poison but to no avail. Within no time, he fell crumbling on the sandy ground and went lifeless foaming at the mouth.

Aghast at the turn of the event, she stood frozen, the weight of the sword grew heavier, slipping from her grip. Nakshathra did not anticipate anything as such, none of her brothers warned her about opponents poisoning themselves. She had read in her grandmother's stories that men who works for people often carry poison in such compartmented ring but she never thought they would do it in real.

Why would they choose to die? Are they so faithful and loyal to their master? Don't they love their lives? Of course, she knew people die in battles but killing oneself for someone...? It sounded absurd.

Too oblivious of her surrounding, she failed to sense the approaching figure with their sword pointed ready to pierce through her back. A sharp shriek of pain brought her back to her senses, she turned around to catch another man heaving his last breath. Images of doom loomed in her mind after witnessing death after death under the moon light.

"You can't keep staring at the fallen when you are in amidst skirmish, Nakshathra!" Parthiban grabbed her by her arms and shook her vehemently. His creased brows and fiery eyes did not make her feel any better however, his quick embrace wiped her dismay off. "You can't just stand there, Nakshathra. Do you know, he was so close...? How will I face the rest if anything ever happens to you?" Parthiban's immediate change of tone comforted her from the painful sight she had a few minutes ago.

"I'm sorry Parthi. I didn't expect anyone to kill themselves. I almost got one of them to talk but he died. This man could have saved his life by just answering my questions... I wouldn't have killed him," she mumbled quietly. Her first fight turnout to be fine until these men ended their life for no reason.

"That's all right, Nakshathra. It happens, they were after our lives too," Parthiban consoled her already dull-self.

Dejected that she couldn't brace herself for such scenes, she scanned around averting her thoughts, many men lay lifeless while most of their soldiers were severely wounded. The calmness in the surrounding told her, they have defeated all of them and caught none. She sighed in resignation realising her intention did not bear fruit. Not even one of the henchmen survived.

"How are we going to get them back, Parthi?" asked Nakshathra, eyeing the sea. Guilt gnawing her.

"We can only get them if our Water Watchers catch them in the mid-sea. Even that I don't think would happen. They seem to have sailed towards east I guess, only if they continue southeast Nathan's Water Watchers could catch them." They stared at the horizon expecting the events to happen otherwise, in hope the ship would be seized although they knew the chances were slim as thread.

Nakshathra cast her gaze to the small waves washing upon the sand then to her wet feet. They were partially buried in sand as if symbolically showing her the options of escaping the suggested alliance are closing up. Her heart sank, losing the motivation to continue their travel further. They were so close to getting them yet they couldn't catch the kidnappers, not even one. She scanned the lifeless bodies scattered here and there; her hope to rescue their people back safely without having to bind the kingdoms through marriage too had died with these men.

Her effort—a futile attempt. She stood in a whirlwind of emotion, pulling her away from the reality and sinking her into her chaotic imagination of a horrible turnout of the alliance. Parthiban's hypothesis on her story struck her numb yet again. What am I going to do? Do I have to sacrifice myself? Is it worth it, losing my happiness for others?

Amidst her disrupted state, her sense remained alert. The minuet movement on the sand to her right caught her attention. Like a ray of hope had shined on her, Nakshathra caught a glimpse of one of the men still alive but severely wounded. She sprinted, her mind swiftly working out treatments to fix him and get him to speak. If she successively, do it, she could get out of the sickening feeling she was going through. However, her fast approaching footsteps forced him to do the same as the other man did—poisoning himself.

Attempting to avoid the scene to repeat, Nakshathra lunged herself on him before it was too late but he had drunk the whole portion of it. Her reflexed, as quick as lightning, held his throat tight and ordered the soldiers close to her to bring as much seawater as they could. She pinned the man to the ground tight with all her strength, she got him swallow the seawater that might help him force the poison out. Nakshathra never had so much resolved in her to safe someone who had done wrongs in his life but that day she saw hope in the man they were trying to save.

For the last three days, she stayed vigilant tending to the man's medical needs making sure he stayed alive. It became her duty while the rest of the platoon collected information of the missing people, a total of fifty people were taken away. Nakshathra sat down with a basket full of freshly plucked herbal leaves and begin grinding it with the mortar and pestle she had borrowed from a nearby villager. Hope and assurance surfaced after thirty-seven days of travelling that she will not have to succumb to a forced marriage alliance to bring her people back. They could squeeze all the information they need from this man but for now, he had to survive from the poison he had drank to escape.

Nakshathra monitored the man who lay unconscious, regularly, they had managed to get the poison out of him that day though most of it had started to take effect on his body. She had used the best of her physician knowledge to get him to a stable condition despite knowing the effort of hers too was futile— his pulse dropped significantly.

So did her expectation.

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Pavalanageri, capital city of Shoolin

Fifth-teen days since the fatal incident took place and things have changed quite a lot for Ranganathan. He was given more attention than he had before, the palace's hospitality had increased and his importance in the palace too had levelled up. It was all because of his vigilant watch and reflex of the situation that day; he could savour the luxurious service.

Ranganathan looked at himself on the mirror and beamed proudly for his first accomplishment that brought him a step closer to his dream. Staring at his reflection, his eyes roamed on his bare body, a fresh white cotton cloth had been secured around his chest and another around his arm with herb paste to heal his wounds. Wounds that he now wears with pride, if these scars could take him to his throne, he would to take another hundred scars.

He threw a silk shawl over his shoulder and sat on the chair facing the open space of the room. The image of Chitramala crossed his mind, an endearing smile stretched on his moustache covered lips remembering his ladylove. Always grateful of her, he could not have done what he did without her support and encouragement.

Just as he laid to rest, the guard at the door announced the arrival of the king, Maharaja Shijay. Consciously covering his bandaged body and arm, he welcomed the king with folded arms "I'm honoured to have your gracious presence here, my king."

"Sit, my friend." Shijay motioned his hand to a chair next to him as he settled on one himself.

"What can I do for you, maharaja?" Ranganathan asked, maintaining his façade calm and composed although inside he felt exhilarated for the king had come to meet him in person.

"I came to check on you. How have you been with your health?"

"Healing well, Your Highness. Thank you for sending the best physician to treat me. I should be fit and fine in another five days or so," Ranganathan simpered and bowed a little.

"Good! It's good that you are getting better, Ranganathan. You deserve the best for what you have done for me. I—"

"It's my honour, Your Highness," Ranganathan interjected, politely.

"No. No, please accept my gratitude. Without you I would have lost my son and my dear wife. If you had not been there at the right time to stop that bloody guard of mine whom I had personally appointed, I would have lost everything. You protected my family and I'm grateful to you." Shijay's tired eyes lit in appreciation.

"It's my duty. Please don't thank me."

"Then you should accept my friendship. We will no longer associate as traders in alliance but as friends. I'll offer you my help without any payment henceforth. This is my gift to you," Shijay declared. He was grateful to have found himself a new trustable friend.

"As you wish, maharaja." Ranganathan accepted the precious offer he had been waiting, humbly.

The following weeks, Ranganathan spent his time mostly with the king and often be invited for lunch with Shijay and his wife. They grew to be a family in the short span of time. He would accompany Shijay for hunts, official visits to towns and also attended the durbar. He had his most privileged time in Pavalanageri and earn the respect of the people whom had been disrespectful to him before. He was named the king's ally, the king's friend, the king's personal advisor and the king's brother. In three months, Ranganathan and Shijay's relationship had taken a vertical steep upwards.

During a leisure night, Shijay and Ranganathan sat in a private chamber of the former and were having light chats as they usually do. They spoke of everything from lands to spirituality. Ranganathan gathered that the king was not only a mighty warrior but also an ardent devotee of Lord Shiva whom he was named after.

There was a comfortable silence between them for a long time. Shijay looked thoughtful as his gaze fell on his friend and shot his question that had been bugging him for a long time. "Ranga, tell me about you. We have spoken about every random topic but never about you. Why are you helping Alli, is it because she pays you, are you being loyal to her or is there a personal reason?" asked Shijay. Apart from the urge to know Ranganathan's background he was equally curious to know his friend's association with Alli on involvement of kidnaping people and selling them off as slave.

This was the moment Ranganathan had been waiting for, to tell Shijay about him and his real reason for being with Alli all these years. He finished the glass full of firewater and let the burning sensation rekindle his agony.

"Personal reasons, of course. I wouldn't have worked for her if I had no benefit in teaming with her. We both share one thing in common, the hatred for Kavish but our reasons differ; she wants revenge while I want the throne. My throne."

"How is Kavish related to you that you want to claim the throne?" Shijay asked leaning forward with new found interest.

"I am the eldest cousin brother of the current king, Maharaja Bavaneswaran. During King Nagendran Heramba's reigning, they had promised to crown me, the oldest son in the family as the crown prince but things changed. I was humiliated." He filled Shijay with his tormenting moments in his life during the last days in Kavish.

Ranganathan grew up hearing stories of how previous kings were chosen. There had been several occasions where the eldest among the generation had ascended the throne even when they were not the son of the ruling king. He believed his turn would be no difference with him being the eldest in the generation, he ought to be the next king.

It wasn't just a mere assumption; Ranganathan had also overheard in one of the council meetings that the ministers have approve the suggestion of ascending the eldest of the family as the heir. To further seal his desire for the throne, one of the ministers had also given his confirmation to the same, personally. "You deserve the throne more than anyone. The king too is considering your name, young prince. Good news coming your way."

His excitement did not stay with him for long, his dreams were shattered when King Nagendran announced his firstborn as the heir to the throne instead of him. His friends whom he had shared the news, laughed at him. The minister who gave him the false hope mocked him for having the delusion of being the next king. Betrayed, broken and humiliated, Ranganathan sought his father for justice but his father disregarded him. "The king has the authority to choose the heir. You can't claim the king has betrayed you just because you heard rumours. The Maharaja did not make any official announcement on making you the next king. Get a grip of yourself, Ranga!" said Ranganathan's father, silencing his further plead.

The following days went in a haze, Ranganathan isolated himself from the official ceremonies that took place for the crown prince. He didn't feel important in the palace anymore and no one searched or enquired about him. Ranganathan was left to tender his broken pride on his own. Those lonely days were the time the dark side of him evoked. The betrayal and humiliation he endured wanted nothing but a payback, to have the king and his family suffer the same way as he had gone through yet he was too afraid to do so alone.

"I left Kavish and roamed like a vagabond. Somewhere in the jungle, I met Chitramala and she help me to rise again to fight. It was because of her that we got Alli into the plan." Ranganathan concluded and gulp down another shot of firewater.

Shijay sat in a turmoiled silent; he had taken Ranganathan's humiliation personally. He felt every bit of disgrace and betrayal his friend had faced; his anger rose to a new height. The empathy he shared with Ranganathan urged him to revenge for him, to stand by him. Shijay wanted nothing but to get the throne his friend deserved.

"I'll help you, Ranga. I help you get the throne of Kavish. This is a promise to a brother by the king of Shoolin." Shijay promised taking Ranganathan's hand in between his.

Despite his crooked method, every other emotion he had shared with Shijay was true and finding it reciprocated moved him to tears. Ranganathan sniffled and clasped Shijay's hand tight for the support.

"Thank you. I'm blessed to have a friend like you." Ranganathan had finally earned what he had anticipated for all these years in the form of the mighty king's support, his army and Shijay's emotional investment on Ranganathan's humiliation as a bonus. Selfish he may be but thankful nonetheless.

That night Ranganathan had the most peaceful sleep like a sleep after a victory from a long, great fight.

'Be prepared my dear brother, Bavanes.'

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