They were looking for their lost brides– one drowned in fire, and another made to fall in a fairytale sleep.

****

"It gives me immense joy to declare that the curse on Ishgar, that had rendered the land almost infertile for years, has been finally lifted up."

Rajan Rudra's sky-blue cloak curled around the arms of wind, holding onto the whooshing ship of air like a lover. He was standing on a temporary platform made over three nights by his architects. It was fenced all around and a circular stream of water covered it. Beside him Indumala brushed back her hair, watching fluffy clouds gather in the skies, as if a confirmation of the Rajan's words. Yes, the curse was gone. Now, golden crops and green plants would cover the land of Ishgar, and Indumala would be able to see how her birthplace really looked like years and years before.

Ishvara stood behind the Rajan and her daughter, her fingers interlocked with those of Aryamna. The Senapati had dressed in a safflower dyed dhoti and a furry shawl, simple yet powerful, while the Rajan donned a hiranya, its golden silky shine making him glow akin to the sun. It was more shimmering than his crown, more majestic than his physique.

"Why don't you dress lavishly like the Rajan?" Ishvara asked Aryamna while the Rajan delivered his meticulously thought speech.

"Do you want me to?" Aryamna took up her palm. "I wish you wore some more bangles– your hands look empty. What will the people think of me? Maybe that I don't buy you enough presents. Neither do you demand for luxuries."

"Swami, I-I should have been more careful. Yes, a new bride has to wear something better," she said, inspecting her sober white and golden attire. "I–"

"It's not your fault, Ishvara. Maybe you are not habituated to asking for things. I should have myself given you some. I promise to you, Ishvara, I will give you so much gold that you won't need to wear even a scrap of fabric to cover your body."

Ishvara noticed his thirsty gaze lingering on her bosom. He tilted his head a little to the side and then swiftly removed his attention from her beautiful moulds. Ishvara blushed, then tried to pull up the inner folds of her stanapatta to hide her cleavage.

"Don't," came a stern order from her husband. Ignoring the guards around, Aryamna ran his fingers over the top of her bosom and readjusted the stanapatta to how it was before. "Better."

Ishvara was too stunned to speak. She could feel every part of her body heat up like a hot spring. She looked around to find the stoic faced male guards stare at them with shocked and enlarged eyes.

"You are beautiful, Ishvara. Show it off sometimes. God has been very generous when making you, and such a gorgeous piece of art needs to be praised," he said, intentionally loud enough for the servants and guards around to hear.

The poor woman didn't know how to thank such a compliment. Little did she realise how attractive she was. Or was it only Aryamna who found her pretty?

Either way, she had caught the attention of someone. Ishvara bit on her lips to not let out a giggle. Even if she didn't have the guts to boldly accept, she secretly liked whatever was happening.

"Then make sure to help me choose nice dresses for myself, Swami," she said.

"I will." He smirked, proud of the effect he had on his wife. The two focused back on the Rajan's speech.

"We have seen years of trials and tribulations. They slowly venture towards the hopeful. Even if the sovereign of this world, I am unaware of who is to be revered for curing this curse. However, my firm belief says there are two people behind this to whom we must be grateful."

"So he is going to award certain special two? I didn't know anything as such." Aryamna raised a brow. "Is this some kind of a surprise?"

The crowd whispered possible names of the lucky ones. Most of them predicted it was Aryamna. Rudra smiled upon hearing their excited guesses. "It is not Senapati Aryamna, unfortunately. The two people whom I am talking about are women, wise and worthy. Their arrival in Ishgar and their rise to prominence have shifted fortune to our favour. So, on this auspicious occasion, I would like to thank the wife of my Senapati and my dear sister Ishvara, and my bodyguard Indumala, for lighting up my kingdom with their lovely presence."

Ishvara gasped. Aryamna's surprised face was moulded into a beaming pride. "It is a win for me, Rajan Rudra. One is my companion, and another my legacy." He was amused by his daughter's puzzled expression. She blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend the chain of events. She shook her head and tried to stand with a straight spine, however every alternate moment her feet tapped in a rhythmical stance.

Two soldiers climbed on the platform. One carried a scroll and another carried a huge thali veiled with a red cloth. Rajan Rudra took the scroll and gestured Ishvara to come forward. "I gift the Palace of Spring, which formerly belonged to my ancestors, to Ishvara. From now, it will be hers to enjoy."

Ishvara bent down to touch Rudra's feet, but he stopped her. "I bless you, Ishvara. Do not embarrass me by touching my feet. You are way above in my eyes, dear sister." 

The shadow of the umbrella above the Senapati's head didn't allow the onlookers to catch him wiping a tear. Aryamna's heart flooded with love and respect for Rudra. This palace was supposed to be given as a gift to the daughter of late Rajan Madhavan on her first pregnancy– so was the wish of the now dead king. Alas, things didn't transform into a rosy dream of perfection. Or maybe the dreams were being manifested now, the world ever oblivious to the clever moves of the Divine on the chess board of destinies.

Ishvara's sparkling eyes said more than her words could. "We will go and see how the place looks, won't we?" she asked her husband.

He caressed her face. "We surely will, Ishvara. I am going to take you there soon. After all, now you are a princess with a palace that belongs to queens. You will be the true spring the Palace of Spring has missed."

The second soldier, carrying the thali, removed the cloth from over it. A blindingly bright glare made everyone shut their eyes, except Rudra himself. He held the regal sword, made of ivory and having a gilded hilt studded with fire opals, igniting a zealous passion for reaching the unachievable in the hearts of those who beheld it. With a lopsided smile and in his buttery husky voice, he instructed Indumala, "Bow."

Indumala knelt, her eyes set on the form of the Rajan. Truth be told, she believed the sword suited him more. Dressed in garments woven with gold and silver threads and boasting a grand crown atop his head, he was the one who should have wielded that weapon. Indumala was not meant for it.

"Do I deserve this?" she asked.

"Don't let the moment slip, Indumala. Grab it before it's gone." He gave her the sword. "And it's my decision, which you cannot disobey."

Indumala traced the sharp blade and placed a kiss on the smooth side. "I dare not go against you. This sword will behead those who rebel against the Rajan."

Rajan Rudra turned to the crowd. "And to my bodyguard Indumala, I gift the Dhananjaya Sword, another prized possession of my ancestors. Other than being a symbol of the age old bond between Gandhar and Aryavarta, it stands for the fire that burns inside us all," he gently placed his hand over her head, vowing in his heart to protect who was meant to protect him, "and may we not get extinguished in its blaze but emerge as victorious masters of the same."

A shock traversed through Indumala's spine and she shivered. On raising her gaze, she saw the Rajan smiling. She had found him happy even before, albeit not as much as angry, yet she had. But now, the look of admiration he was giving made her stomach churn. Not one man had ever held such a worshipping glance in her honour. Indumala gulped and stood up. "Thank you, Rajan." She didn't have the courage to look up at him, not while he was studying her that intently. Not while her father was still present.

Doubts swirled in her mind. She held the sword with greater strength. This moment was sacred. Her heart said she was going to remember this till the end of time. But why?

And why is he not looking away from me? It made her feel things she didn't want to admit.

Finally, the Rajan freed her from his magnetic attention. "I request everyone to enjoy the feast. We will have a few performances when the night falls. Relish the celebration." He gestured Indumala to follow him. Passing by, he patted Aryamna on the shoulder. The Senapati could only fake a smile.

Maybe it was expected that a father would be pleased with the level of veneration showed to his daughter by the Rajan of Aryavarta himself. But that wasn't the case.

Aryamna got cold feet.‌ Many times in the past he had been wary of facing such a day, and now he worried he would be watching more unfold.

"Let us go to the feast, Swami." Ishvara tugged at his shawl.

"Oh, yes. You must be hungry." Aryamna wrapped an arm around her and led her towards the tents where the feast was held. Fortunately, Ishvara didn't notice his agitation. Inside, fears were eating him up. Sometimes he rebuked himself for being so negative, and sometimes he was enlightened by the harsh reality of how life really was.

It worried Aryamna why Rudra gifted Indumala the sword that he had, with delicate devotion, preserved for Petra, to be given to her upon the birth of their first child. Alas, both the mother and the baby died.

But no...I know they haven't gone.

For when he saw Rudra and Indumala converse like they knew each other for years, he was again reminded of how the mother was alive, and the son waited to be reborn to the same womb.