Cannibalism is a deed of the gods.

****

The war had left an indelible mark on Revat's sagging skies. Often it darkened, being smoky and spotted in few areas. Although this conclusion seemed hopeless, the people of Revat were hopeful.

Afraid of inviting the wrath of their new Lord Aishan, they didn't dare slip out of their houses. Instead, they opened their windows to witness Rajan Rudra the Great. Yes, that was what they coined him. The Great. The One and Only.

Tents were folded and tensions dissolved. Raya was there to look after Radha, along with a selected werewolves. Aryamna governed over the route to be followed. Dilrobar sat quietly in her palanquin, staying away from Rudra as much as possible. Indumala came once to meet her, but she requested solitude for the sake of a peaceful journey. The bodyguard understood the matter. She had just ended her quarrel with Rudra last night through a little romantic moment, a time where she got bold.

Indumala was seriously surprised by her actions. Romance wasn't something she thought she was good in. And yet, she remembered how hot he was to touch the previous night, his raspy breaths and racing heartbreak, his hands attempting to slid in.

It made her think if he would have gone further had she given a hint, or would he ask to wait?

Perhaps, she wouldn't lie, she was afraid of it. She so desired to be kissed and held in sturdy arms, being swung around in the air delicately and to dance. She loved how he caressed her, uttering sweet nothings in her reddened ears. But, her ripe womanhood was still shrouded in pains of a distant past. Although not slashed by the sword of a beast, the pink flesh was shamed much. Petra died a ruined heroine. Somehow, always, Indumala had been wary of love-making. It was a different thing to dream of it and to really face the passion. Such pleasure seemed more painful than the mind could discern.

Not that she doubted Rudra– he had been gentle with her at all times. But her heart wasn't ready. The thought of a wedding night made her stomach twist. A hand sliding down to her plump back, another on her ample bosom, a pair of lips biting her neck. She imagined it, heaved a sigh.

She wasn't ready.

Rudra was talking with the soldiers and giving them instructions. As usual, they were to go on the same horse. He didn't even ask her if she wanted to go alone but decided it for himself. Indumala had thought of keeping some distance, lest he lost control. He was a werewolf now.

"Am I being judgemental or are my fears valid?" Her thoughts were interrupted when Rudra waved at her and beckoned her to come. They were to leave.

He was all sunshine and smiles. Not a speck of lust. Not a tarnish of wrath. He was contented.

Maybe I am overthinking. Indumala mounted the horse. Just as he was going to climb the majestic ride, a trumpet was blown. Everyone turned their heads to see a small retinue approaching. They carried no flag of Revat but the soldiers were definitely those of the kingdom. There were females too in the group, flanking a palanquin which carried their mistress. Rudra hurried to meet them. Out from the palanquin came Danube, the widowed queen of Hamal the Second.

"Greetings to Rajan Rudra of Aryavarta." Staring at his feet, she joined her hands in a namaskara. "I am Danube, the widow of the late Rajan of Yavana."

Rudra scrutinised the lady. Had he seen her before? If so, he didn't remember. The men of Revat didn't put forward their women much, so maybe this was their first encounter. "How may I help you?"

Indumala shouted to her, breaking into the conversation, "Forgive me, my queen! My friend was suddenly unwell. I suppose you know, for she was caged by your dead husband. I would have passed on your proposal to the Rajan, but situations made me shift my attention somewhere else."

Danube shook her head. She walked a little odd with her small feet, almost as if she were floating over a smooth wind. Extending a hand to Indumala, she said, "Forgive me for my misconduct. I know I shouldn't have come like this. Yes, the men told me that he had imprisoned two mages of your guild." She placed a kiss on Indumala's palm. "Apologies for the agony caused by my husband. I know it cannot be undone, but you have my prayers. I can only fathom how much you all are going through."

"What proposal are you talking about?" Rudra asked.

Danube bowed her head, not looking up at his face ever. "I have come with a request. You are free to disregard it if you see so fit, but please, consider it once. May I speak of it?"

Rudra was discomfited by her submissive and restrained attitude. "Freely."

"I come here to seek shelter. Take me to Ishgar. My life here is endangered, and my servants and loyal men are being threatened too. If not today, someday they will die. Death is not honourable in Revat. For women it is always accompanied by physical assault, and sometimes even the superior men die the same. They have their families to take care of. But I understand, it is a very costly offer. So I have brought all my gold and possessions. And myself." She exhaled. "Rajan Rudra, I give myself as a slave to you in exchange of security for all my trusted people."

Danube touched her entwined fingers to forehead, a sign of divine surrender. There was not a single tear in her eyes, nor did she shake. Her queenly stature, although small, contrasted the heavy words. They weighed on every shoulder of Ishgar.

She observed the shadow of the Rajan on the ground. It grew bigger and blurred. He was standing, looking down at her, with piety or disgust she didn't know.

Of course, he couldn't know who she really was, could he?

"How do you wish to be treated?"

"Pardon me?"

"You are Queen Danube. I ask you, how do you wish to be treated?"

"You may treat me as you see–"

"I asked, how do you wish to be seen as?"

Lost in his ebony orbs, she saw the cherished face of the boy she had known long ago. Now he was a man. Alas, a werewolf. A monster. A cursed Rajan.

Shame diminished her.

"Tell me, regardless of me or anyone else who treated you as they wished, how do you want to be respected?"

Her eyes flooded. "As...as a queen."

"Aryavarta is already going to have a queen," Aryamna interjected. "You can't be a queen in Aryavarta."

"No!" She waved her hands in denial. "I do not wish to be a Queen of Aryavarta. I am not desirous of such affection. You misunderstand me, Senapati."

"Then why did you say you want to be a queen? You can be a noble in Aryavarta. Never a queen." He looked at Indumala, pride glinting in his distraught gaze. "The only woman who can be Aryavarta's queen is my daughter."

"She will be my queen too," Danube said. "I will be below her. I am not here to be anyone's wife. I said so, because somewhere deep down I wish to be seen as a queen. A true queen. Not just in name but by commanding an everlasting effect."

"Fine." Rudra's booming voice silenced all. "I respect this woman's wish to be seen as a queen. I think it's clear that I am incapable of giving her the status of my queen, but we all can appreciate the sheer courage of this lady. She will be given all luxuries. Queen Danube, you can join us. Make haste for we will be leaving for the Valley of Saints."

"Oh..." Her spirits dampened. "I will then meet you all in the docks of Yavana. You may continue your way to the valley."

"As you find comfortable."

Rudra climbed Indumala's horse. "Ride along, men!" he ordered.

Aryamna scoffed and was to climb his own horse when Dilrobar removed the curtain and peeked out of her palanquin. "Senapati, a word."

He raised a brow. "Yes?"

"The Queen of Yavana, or as people say Revat, is a good woman. She didn't mean to put you or Indumala down."

"You know her?"

"I have been in Revat for long. I know who she is. We went along well. Though I couldn't free her from the shackles."

Aryamna growled. "I had a preconceived notion of her being a good person. Perhaps you speak so highly of her because you have known her better than me." He scowled at the figure of Queen Danube in the distance. "But I have a third eye that you don't have. It tells me this woman isn't ordinary."

"She is indeed extraordinary. But trust me, she is not here to cause a rift between your daughter and the Rajan."

"Rudra is no saviour to all that he will go on liberating women by making them queens. No one before made such a demand."

"You mistaken. She didn't too. Her words were spoken in a weak moment without much thought." Dilrobar touched his forearm, and although his mouth moved it made no sound. "Senapati Aryamna, you are one of the few people who actually believe in me and see me as a human. I give my word that she is a kind woman who means no harm. God will kill me if my tongue is spewing nonsense."

Aryamna's pupils enlarged. "I-I see. Alright then, I will trust what you say."

Dilrobar went back to her cocoon. When the palanquin moved, she broke into a joyous laughter. It was masked by the tapping hooves of the horses and the chattering of the soldiers. She clapped and screeched. "Yes, yes!"

****

Indumala wasn't allowed to lay her feet on the moist earth. The werewolves had constructed for her a wooden plank, upon which she now sat and was carried.

Rudra hadn't told her about what was going to happen, and only asked her to trust the process. Her Baba seemed to know what was going to unfold, for he looked a little tense. Indumala had nudged him to speak but he only asked her to be strong and confront what was within. The little she knew was that the pack was going to accept her as a Luna, officially, and incorporate her in the family.

Flutes and horns carved from hollowed bones and skinned beasts bellowed a song of victory. At the end of the march was the throne, otherwise reserved for Alpha Rudra Arumugam. This full moon night, Indumala was carefully kept on the seat of polished bones and stones.

"To the Luna who saved our pride." A werewolf came and crowned her with a floral diadem. It was sewn with the wildflowers of the mountains, pollen still stuck to the buds. Butterflies fluttered to her luscious midnight locks, honey gliding down from their wings to her black tresses.

Rudra watched with love. He took his stand beside her. Indumala's breathing was slow, each inhale elongated. Rudra placed a kiss on her forehead, butterflies tickling his lips. Fetching out a band of jasmines, he tied it around her waist. "You are brave. You are beautiful."

Indumala's heartbeats sprinted in the pace of a jaguar. All around her werewolves dropped to their knees and splayed hands. The resplendent swish of their teal robes, bordered with glittering silver, brushed off the caress of the cool wind. They murmured in a dialect still unknown to her. Rudra sang in their melody. His voice stretched to the highest notes, a melody reaching for the stars. The words Indumala knew not, but goosebumps swum on her marble skin. This baritone, full of potency and power, was praising her. His domineering voice made the needles of the pine quiver. Crystals of dew bounced on the cupped grip of leaves. Each trickle, each chirp blended with his wonderful tone.

His music called out to her, so she began humming along, tapping her fingers on the sides of the throne. Her feet matched with the banging drums. Soon her shoulders swayed, and although she was still sat, her whole body floated with the ancient spell. It pleased the bloodthirst in her, calmed down the agitated hunger. This was sweet, a dessert after the feast on Revat's battlefield. She could sense the slimy, bloody flesh of Hamal in her grip, as if she were still holding him by the neck. Her pupils dilated, a haunting smile gracing her lips. When the tunes dipped low, she ducked her head, listening to the whispering werewolves. At once, like a lightning bolt striking, her body jolted upright. She stood wavering on the steps to the throne. Even though dressed in the attire of petite spring, her eyes turned red like garnet. With a drunken gait she climbed down, Rudra following her close by.

The goddess was coming to life.

Clearing the space in front, a plate of roasted flesh was pushed towards her feet. Those were parts of Madrik, kneaded like dough and cooked till softened. Hamal the Second was already too destroyed to be served, the goddess having a taste of the demon in the battlefield itself. Sparing the head of Madrik which went to Dilrobar and the undesirable pieces fed to the dogs, Indumala was given the best of the meat.

It delighted Rudra. No, this wasn't a monster. This was a queen, a goddess drooling at the sight of her prey. She sniffed and moaned, eyes reddening further. After some consideration, she licked the crispy scrap over it. Indumala grinned, then pierced the rest with her teeth and munched it all. It took only a few minutes for her to finish it all. Whatever bits she left was to be spread among the werewolves as a blessing. As soon as she was done eating, her body went limp and she fell to the ground.

The ritual was complete. The sacrifice satiated the goddess, and the Luna's position solidified.