It is a time to celebrate, to rekindle faith,
For after a tempest so lonely and long,
The sky shines bright today.

****

Rudra had never thought that bloodied hands would give so much tranquil pleasure. He had always seen blood and gore as methods of destruction, not creation. Lately he realised destruction and creation weren't very different.

Witnessing the birth of a baby, holding the crying newborn in his warrior's hands, it carved a memory in his mind. Maybe it awakened old scars too.

He couldn't help but be jealous of the way Rahul showered kisses on the baby, cradling it near his chest. Rudra had never got to feel it. He was close to it, once, but like a mirage, it fell into the grip of a dusty breeze.

"What is my most favourite man thinking?"

Looking up, he found the mother of his child standing with a beaming smile. She wore a pink skirt with frills that billowed with the gelid wind. Her little pink soles pressed on the blades of grass, sauntering towards him sitting on the bank of the river. Her sorrel skin glowed in the mellow dusk.

He wondered: How will our son look like, or daughter? Perhaps they will have such sparkling eyes like her, and they will twinkle more when I adore them.

Indumala pulled his cheeks. "Don't look at me like that."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to be red."

Rudra chuckled, entwining his fingers with hers.

"What were you thinking?" she asked. "Tell me. You appeared very focussed."

He gulped. She was all smiles and sunshine, so much of love stored in a mortal body. Her heart stretched like a womb to make a place for everybody, even the most callous souls who had snatched from them their perfect abode. He didn't want to remind her of her extreme perfection, so deadly sharp for her own fragile skin.

"Just thinking, how reality is often different to what we perceive. I had wanted to punish the one who used magic in the war, but see now, we know they were not at fault."

"I talked with Radha." Indumala drew circles on the back of his palm. "She didn't speak much, still so very shrivelled up. But I told her we aren't at fault. None of us is. The one who was at the root of it is dead."

"Let's not take his name." Rudra heaved a sigh. "I only want to think of good times. Which is now."

"We are having a competition, me and my guild mates."

"Interesting. On what?"

"About the baby. We are all supposed to come up with a name. Aunt Mithhi will choose which one is best, and if she chooses mine, I get to have a gift."

"So, am I on your team or should I compete alone?"

"Of course on mine." She raised a brow. "You won't win a game against me. Loser."

"Not that I mind losing. But you must let me choose one name for our child-"

Rudra pursed his lips. It slipped.

Indumala's slender fingers froze around his, calcifying to a rock. Her spine stiffened, head snapped towards the bubbling waters.

"I am sorry. I should not have-"

"It's alright, Rudra. You lost your child. It's natural for you to mourn."

"But it was our baby, not just mine. I can't act like it's just me who is sad. I...I can't throw my burden on you."

Words refused to flow out of her tender lips. Rudra was afraid of giving a peck, lest it further angered her. So he only wrapped his arms around her, and fortunately, she leant on him.

"I miss the baby too," Indumala said. "I don't know what to feel more, though. Sometimes the pain cripples me, sometimes it makes me enraged. But now, it is numb. Like my heart is icy and can't be thawed."

"Maybe this is what healing looks like. Turbulent and confusing."

"We are on it together."

Rudra dipped his nose in the forest of her tresses, sniffing her earthy presence. It engulfed him in a cocoon of dreams and desires. She rubbed his chest, causing his heart to swell with warmth.

"I am not ready for it," Indumala said. "For...for a deeper intimacy. I am going to love you, and let you love me like that, but I still need to get over my fears."

"I understand." Rudra caressed her head. "Baby can wait. I won't pressure you. Being the mother, you will have the right to decide when you want it."

Her breath tickled his skin. "I hope I am not being cruel."

"Absolutely not. You are giving yourself time so that when we do have a family, we can be truly happy, and have no regrets."

She giggled. "I love you so much."

He kissed her forehead. "I love you too."

"Oh! A hundred apologies-"

They jerked back to see Aryamna fidgeting. The spear had fallen from his hand. "Bad timing. I will go."

"Such a good father-in-law," Rudra joked with a lopsided grin. "Come here Aryamna." He patted the spot to his right.

So now, Rudra sat in the middle, flanked by his Senapati and beloved on either side.

"Crazy how you call your father-in-law by his name," Aryamna said.

"Please don't make me awkward."

"I agree with Rudra," Indumala said.

"Fine." He waved a hand. "I wanted to say that we are going to leave tomorrow. At dawn. So better get a beauty sleep tonight. Go to bed early."

"Where are we going Baba?"

"Why? The palace!" Aryamna laughed. "Don't forget that's your future home."

"Ah, I had almost forgotten I was a Rajan." Rudra smacked his face. "Duties again, then."

"Well, you always will have your beloved by your side. Work should feel better."

"I guess." Rudra shrugged. "Though we may fight."

"That is not my lookout. Your problem. Indu's problem. But every married couple quarrels. It's a classic thing."

"Sure. I remember how you and Nadira fought!" Rudra twisted his lips. "Nasty thing."

"I am your father-in-law."

"Shut up."

"Can we talk about tomorrow's planning?" Indumala intervened. "So much needs to be done!"

"No, you need not worry. You will rest, because you are going to be tomorrow's centre of attraction. Ishgar wants to see you, their victor."

Indumala blushed. Rudra, completely unabashed, snuggled her tight and gave a kiss. Aryamna feigned to not notice. "Indu, you had questions about...your Maa not remembering me, and how everyone else doesn't too, correct?"

"Yes. The puzzle doesn't fit."

"Even I don't know exactly why." Rudra tilted his head. A hollow was dug in the pit of his guts. "He told me it's related to him becoming a vampire after he was unable to...save Nadira."

"Which isn't a lie," Aryamna clarified. "At present, I do not want to elaborate and give details. What is more important- Nadira and Indumala are both recalling the past. This isn't an ordinary occurance. Things are aligning perfectly. Which means..."

"Which means?" The couple asked in unison.

"Which means," Aryamna flicked back his hair, "we are going to make a special entrance to Ishgar as a significant move to establish the truth. People have forgotten me, people have turned away from hope. But now, it's time to shake things up."

Indumala's eyes glimmered. "What are we going to do?"

"Let's make a circle." Aryamna beckoned them to come closer.

And then the former Rajan narrated his plan to his glorious successors.

****

Nadira loved how in the absence of Rudra, the whole palace regarded her as the supreme authority. Much like she was the Maharani. With her memories gradually returning and filling the gaps, the royal treatment she received felt much deserving and even homely.

"Ishvara was humble, but Nadira likes things a little shiny." She peered down the balcony. At her order, a young boy around the age of sixteen was to play a flute all night long. It reminded her of the good old days, and perhaps, in a corner of her heart she wished this to be a subtle sign to the inner circle that she was remembering.

"Is this too much?" She pouted. "I hope the boy gets to sleep at day. I have asked the soldiers to not disturb him."

And I need to sleep too.

She felt exhausted after completing the arrangements. The Rajan and his retinue were coming home tomorrow.

Although she wasn't waiting for the same Rajan as everybody else. Her Rajan was a midnight god, a charming singer, a little possessive and a little irritating. Just as she loved him.

Not a celibate. She rolled her eyes. When he comes home, I will ask him to pamper me.

Sometimes she wondered how Aryamna remained clean and unengaged all the years she was missing. There was the agony to suppress his wants, but at the end of the day he was born in a human body. Nadira craved his touch during the war, when he was so far away, wishing to drown him in her bosom and never let go. Physical separation bled her sanity to lunacy.

"Now that I am here, he needs to spend more time with me."

A knock at the door alerted Nadira. It was a messenger. "The Sensena-uh, the Senapati," the man stuttered, "the Senapati has sent a letter."

Nadira found it adorable, the way this skinny man fumbled at her sight. She took the letter. "Thank you."

His bow was clumsy, too close to a fall.

"Wait." She took off her gold earrings. "Take these. I am in a good mood."

The man gaped at her. Nadira hissed. "Leave!"

"May Bhagvan bless you." The man put the jewellery in his pockets, his steps fluttering away akin to a joyous butterfly.

Nadira shut the door and flopped on the bed. Aryamna had attached a peacock feather along with the letter. Unfurling the paper, she read: My dear moon, I miss drinking your Soma. Your parted pink flesh, trembling at my fiery touch, comes to haunt me at night.

Nadira bit the soft stem of the feather, gently swinging her legs. She could hear him whisper in his deep baritone, utter sweet nothings in her ears. The mere imagination aroused her.

I find myself growing thirsty so often, but it's not water that shall quench me. My temper is not good too. I tend to daydream and talk to myself. The soldiers have caught me doing so and tease me. So audacious! I don't know if I should punish them. But what I know is, I desire to punish you so much.

You are the cause of my wrath, my boiling tantrums. I can't be myself. I can't be the man they look up to. Jokes go around, hot and fresh like snacks served on banana leaves, and the mages gossip about us. It's all in good sense though. But tell me, my moon, will it not affect me still? It stings!

While you read, do trace your collarbone with the feather, imagining it to be my fingers. Go way down, to your ample valley, where I have found god. Place it close to your beating heart; let it hear your passion, feel the fire. Sniff my scent from the letter, kiss it, as if you are kissing my neck. If you wish, tear apart the feather with your teeth, like you draw beads on my skin.

And when I return, you shall do all these to me. Do not sleep, my moon. I order you to practice your skills all night, so that tomorrow, when twilight falls and the palace starts to grow dark and quiet, you can perform for me. If I am not pleased, I shall have no mercy. Call it a threat, if you may.

As of your bliss, I have intricately, step by step, written it all over my mind. I know exactly what you need, when you need and where. I am a good Rajan and won't leave my moon unsatisfied.

If yet, you do feel hungry later, you can plunder me as you wish.

Yours,
Aryam.

****

word count: 2030 words

I have an exam on 24th, so next update will be after that. A little wait is good because next chapter is going to be so important! AHHH WE WILL HAVE THEM RETURNING ISHGAR

OG readers know how Aryamna had made a regal entrance akin to a Rajan while Rudra was dressed like a Senapati, reversing the roles. We are getting exactly that again!

Are you excited?