Not every shine is bright or every grim is dark.
~Rominia Helen, the empress of Hivar.
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In Zelos season, at the month of Crol-18, in Gezareal Hivar.

After the eerie events that took place in the Saurabh Stupa, the daughter of Walor became the talk of every thick and thin street of the kingdoms of the Lumas clan. The land of Hivar and its apathy spread wilder than a forest fire. As they travelled back, the very opinions the winds carried to ache their hearts created a havoc that they could never fathom.

The Cursed. The call of doom. A bad Augury. Evil eye! 

Those phrases kept ringing in their ears on a loop. Bearing an incurable injury and being unsure of future events, they entered the prismatic ivory palace. The silverine shine of the adorned walls held a materialistic peace that they could never relish. Without saying a word, they secluded themselves to attain the needed strength. The one that was lost in the assault. But it is the one that they must usher in to face whatever might await.

If they couldn't muster it, would that be acceptable?

Rominia was deeply hurt to process the irony that stood tall than the lone pillars that stole her sight. The fury of her anger tired her thoughts and blurred her vision.

I never thought I belonged in a huddle of heartless, purblind oafs. 

Realising that she had cursed them for no good, she bit her tongue. She couldn't think of anything but make it keenly known that their child was a festivity that those heartless people weren't worthy enough to decipher.

She tried to repress her pain, and in front of Walor, she should contain it. His kind heart could read anything that flickered in her mind. She decided to live in the moment rather than mourn for the past. As the chief of justice, it was her duty to ease his worries. When it comes to her duty, she lets everything wait. She enveloped her miseries in a simple simper to let the rest fall in place with time. The only healer to mend things as they sailed. 

She clutched the edges of her golden-laced robes, threaded with golden tendrils bearing the folded blooms and ripened berries. She walked towards the Smithy pool in utter distress, events clamouring inside her thoughts, making her crumple the robes that were within her palms. Taking strides carefully enough to not trip, she could see the edges of the arena.

The pool was circumferenced by a gazebo with numerous herbs and shrubs that swayed their white streaked bluish bell-blooms, hinting at their exquisite scent in the air. The central stage housed the ivory statue of the pride of Hivar. A two-tailed bird with its intricately carved crescent plummages sat upon a piece of log, with one leg gliding in the air. Their ethereal golden eyes and the mellifluous melody had crowned them to the title of heart-stealers of the Hivar. It was singing its unheard melody to the skies. The very gaze of its delicate features could fill serenity in the whiffs of air. 

Upon the tranquil scene, Walor sat curled in a wheel-carved lawn chair, wrapping himself between the ickiest litigations of the past and the bemused future. His queries and quests poked him. The more he sank, his thoughts grew more twisted. He was so into vagueness that he failed to notice her arrival or hear her tittering footsteps. Even the accidental ruffling noises of her robes went unnoticed for the first time. She could sense his doldrums and dejection.

With the hope of changing it, she took a flower that was about to wither from the hold of its sepals. She leaned gently, in an attempt to place it on his tunic but retreated on seeing a few drops dribble down from his closed lids to create a moist patch on the cloth. He quickly rubbed his damp eyes with his sweaty palms. A darting needle of worry had swiftly pierced another layer of her laced heart. Slowly, she went near him in a hush.

She placed the browned flower in front of his eyes as she stood behind him. To her apathy, Walor didn't realise that. Soon, she crushed the drained petals to let the fragrance charm him. The strong and serene whiff brought him back. Then, in a hurry, he opened his red, moist eyes. Gazing at the wilting flower and the mild whiffs of the second scent of berries, he could discern who was behind.

"Ah, my lady! Why would you get me this almost dead flower when you have an entire garden filled with numerous good ones?" Walor spoke between the sighs. It was as if he had his caged breaths for too long.

"Well. I could have picked a fresh one, but I loved to see them shaking their heads to the song of the breeze." She said this as she filled her lungs with a deep puff of nature's thrilling scent.

"Aha! I'm afraid now. Have you abandoned your love for this flower? Is that why you chose it for your good husband? That is worrisome, Mina."

Walor lowered his head enough to keep his eyes less visible.

"Pardon me, but I do wish to differ here. I chose this because it resembled our state of mind. I wish and am aware that I can change the thoughts, but not the reality. If I had abandoned my love for this beauty, I wouldn't have picked it for Hivar's ever-loving emperor." 

She patted his arms gently. In a moment, he raised his head high, making her notice his silver-strained irises, but she chose to keep quiet. She knew when to voice her concerns.

"Oh right! At times, I forget that my words make me a mess. Isn't it?" 

He stated this between his strained laughs. After a sharp glance, Rominia smiled. At last, she was able to make this moment a little better, and she was happy even if it was transient.

"So if you are done painting this beautiful place in your heart, with your kind of doleful tinges, shall we head to the palace?"

"Well, that seems like a lovely distraction." 

Walor rubbed his cheeks, clearing the trail of tears as stealthily as he could. When he stood up and noticed that Rominia was alone, a sudden realisation dawned on his relaxing nerves. 

"Mina! Where's she?"

"Who?"

"You know who, don't you?"

"Well! I'm right here. What a pity that, at this age, your vision is declining! I suggest-"

"Not the time to play. Without diverting it, answer me," Walor intercepted her.

"Answer what?" Rominia questioned him in a fierce tone.

"Oh, please tell me where's our daughter. The time isn't right, and we can't risk it."

"Ah! You are making me jealous!"

Her raspy recitations made him impatient. He turned to leave, only to be stopped by her firm hold.

"Till now, you were preoccupied with her thoughts, and I caught a glimpse of your attention, and here you are jumping back to her again. It's not fair. Not at all fair! You are changing, Walor."

Walor felt piqued, but he shook off his head to lighten his mind. When he was about to part his lips, she took the conclusive lead.

"Alright. My bad! She's sleeping on her couch. If we make it too late, she will wake up to cry loud enough to quake the palace just to land on your lap. We can leave."

Her racing words jingled Walor's delicate ears. If he asked her to repeat, it would do more harm than good. In the path of spores or thorns, it was wise to choose spores, and hence he kept it simple with a nod.

"She is sleeping. Good," he muttered. 

"What? After so many lines being said, you heard just that. Great. First, it was your eyes, and now it's your ears. Totally disheartening." Rominia pulled in a tiff.

"As you said, if we delay, our little birdie will dwell in my lap from this dusk till dawn. But I guess we wish to have some time for ourselves. So shall we go?" He recited while asking for her hands.

"Aha. I shall agree to the words of my king." She retorted as she interlaced her arms with his.

"Aha. I shall agree to the words of my king." She retorted as she interlaced her arms with his.

"Oh! Why does this feel like I have won the toughest war."

She pinched his arms, making him plead. Sooner they both laughed. Together they strode towards the palace while the tangerine shades of twilight began to churn the blacks and greys in the sky.

On their way, a little bird gripped Rominia's glance. It had a pair of brown-streaked wings and golden lava eyes. As it parted its beak to recite a feeble yet tuneful poem, the little bird caught her heart.

"Ahaa. It is a Sanvagh."

"You spotted the heart stealer? At this hasoi?"

Rominia drew a few circles near his lashes to make him follow her fingers to see the bird. His surprised eyes widened as his mouth gaped.

"Can you help me hold it? The last time I had seen one was when I was a little girl." She perched as her hands clasped.

But he stood still without any ripostes, so she chose to seek the adventure. She leaned and took slow steps to get near it without any hustles. All of a sudden, it shrieked out a cry, making her jerk. Walor giggled only to earn her glares. He then chose to help. But unfortunately, she lost her balance.

"Ohho! It leapt but it was so beautiful, Mina!" Walor poked her.

"Very well spotted. Now, don't try your tricks. Let me go and get it." She ordered.

"Ahh... See, my ears are good. I can hear its feet shuffling!"

He teased his lobes as he whispered. Rominia grimaced while sighing. She was cautious of her moves and shrugged off his play. When she was about to catch it, it whisked away. Flying to the nearby shrub, it wiggled its two tails.

"Oww... Just missed. Maybe it's meant to be free for a few more dusk, I hope." 

Walor patted her as he jiggled. Rominia held a glare, marking him as the reason for her failure, and stormed from there. When she was stepping fast, she laid her foot over a slimy pebble that twiddled her, making her slip to the ground.

Should this happen to let me conclude that it is all the forlorn fate of a staunchly day? 

But Walor was at her rescue. He pulled her up with his arms, saving her from the fall.

"See, even the Lord himself couldn't withstand your falsifying actions. Glad that my eyes were sharp enough to catch you at the right time."

"Ahaaa, so that's why you are still holding my shoulders while I'm already up on my own?" 

She then slipped away from his hold.

"Maybe I just got frozen in our moment of love."

Walor's words would never miss to entice her. She couldn't say anything, but her cheeks rose. He noticed her blush even when the lights weren't bright. As the messenger of love, the bird sang its tune. They searched, but it wasn't visible.

"Is it gone?"

"Maybe. Now shall we retire?"

With a sweet smile, he fastened her hand with his, leading her into the palace. When they reached the cosy cradle where their little birdie was sleeping, they saw her immersed in a deep slumber. Rominia went near her and looked closely at her enthralling features. Her motherly glee gleamed a shine on her cyan orbs to curve up as a smile on her slender lips. She then slightly caressed her short, glistening black hair with a virtuous twinkle in her eyes. 

Her joy made Walor glide through every rapturous cloud like a little leaf. Walor felt complete with this little family of three. When he let out a little loud sigh, everything changed. Their little girl started shrieking out, and that cracked everything that stood so firm that it got spliced into numerous unmatchable pieces.

"Ahaa! That's my sweet girl. She had found her father. No. No, birdie... Don't cry. See, here I'm. No more mamma; dadda is here." 

Walor ridiculed Rominia as he lifted her on his muscular arms.

"It's not fair! Everything was fine and convincing until she heard you. You both team up when she does this. This makes me feel like I'm the odd one here." 

Rominia folded her hands in dejection. Walor patted the baby as he cooed to her in a gentle tone. Meanwhile, he went near Rominia. But she averted her gaze. 

"See, I love you both. It's for you that I live. Don't make it hard for me. If neither of you is near, I really doubt whether I will survive in the least." 

He nestled his little love in his arms while planting a gentle kiss on the mother's hand.

"Well. Now it is much better. You shall never speak ill of your fate. You should live for the people who need you. We do love you, Walor, and so do the people of Hivar."

In no- time, Walor embraced her, and all three were blanketed in the wreath of love and gratitude they shared so selflessly for each other.

"Mina. She's smiling!"

Walor pointed out the curling lips of their birdie princess to let them see the pink buds that it enclosed. Rominia kissed her cheek and mumbled, "We love you, sweetheart. Everything is fine to help us sail for infione yorveh of joy and togetherness."

Suddenly, from some corner of the area, they could hear someone approaching them at a faster pace. The irregular rhythm of the steps conveyed that the mission that they carried was not welcoming. The irregular fall and rise of the steps puzzled them. They had no hint as to who could be at this hasoi when the palace had none except the little royal family and a bunch of soldiers and servants.

Then they saw a soldier rushing to them, holding a shiny silk cloth rolled in a golden rod. On noticing that, they felt as though they were again slipping into a hollow void of melee. The terror in his face and the gasping look on his sweating forehead were enough to state that their smiles would fade before the cloak of night. 

Walor held the baby on his elbow, took out the silk cloth from the soldier's clumsy hold, and handed it to Rominia. She opened it as fast as she could, just to see those terrible words scripted on it. A frenzy of fear and shattering concern shook her inside out. 

"What is it about? Where is it from? Who sent it to us?"

He queried her in confusion. Yet, no words leapt out of her mouth.

"Please don't hide anything. Let me know it all!" Walor pleaded while his resentment consumed him.

"It's from your brother, Walor."

Her words brought relief to Walor's pale face, but they brought about no change for Rominia.

"Oh, glad that he did write to us!"

Walor knew no bounds. The very joy of hearing his words left him speechless in happiness.

"It's been a long time since he wrote to me. What's scripted in there? Did he ask about us? Is he visiting us?" 

"I shall remind you of this. Not every shine is bright, and not every grim is dark. To answer you, yes, he's coming here!"

"Oh my! Then we have to arrange a feast to celebrate his return and a grand troupe of artisans, and-"

"Walor! He's coming, but not alone."

Those words submerged him in the web of suspicion. He gave her a hesitant look, demanding an explanation.

"He's marching towards our kingdom. To wage a war for justice against the happenings at the Saurabh Stupa." She declared between her grieving snorts.

"What?"

In a rush of cautioning agitations, Walor snatched the letter from her and read it.

'Dearest seizing brother,

Your time as the Emperor of the great Gezareal Hivar shall settle. Fate has its play, and we are mere puppets. You had violated the revering Valiant Vow. It was well-proven that you have instilled more fear than protecting the land. I had witnessed the happenings in the Stupa. More words had ferried far and wide. But you know well that I find no solace in words. Keep the gates open! As a true throne holder, I'm coming back for my crown. I shall have what should be mine. I shall restore what the greatest times of Hivar had lost.

From the dearest envy,
Zwisk, the emperor of Ambodia.'

Walor was stormed by the tremendous thunder that had wounded his life. The raw bits of the truth that he wished to deny were storming into him against his will. He looked at Rominia with a lack of words. Rominia couldn't strive to pick any words. Her fists held her gall while her gritted teeth held her cusses unleashed. She had seen enough, and this piece of mess could glide down her gut.

Yet again, they were pushed into the catastrophe of misty mayhem. But this time it would be thicker than the last.