Calix

As a little boy, I had a shark stuffed toy, of gray colour with beady eyes and cute features. I used to own many toys, luxurious and expensive ones, and my childhood bedchamber was at a time filled with nothing but colourful toys of all shapes and sizes. But, no one understood, not even my nanny why I played with only the shark toy. Why I held it close to me on nights when it thundered and my heart yearned to have someone, anyone close. Why it was the most cherished thing I could ever have, despite being the cheapest. I had found it in a dumpster after all. Abandoned, all alone, just like me. Father used to sneer at me when he had found that 'disgusting' toy snuggled up to me even at the age of twelve, when I was supposed to be acting maturely and princely. The shark toy which I hadn't given a name had become my only friend in all those suffocating years.

Sharks are one of the most misunderstood and feared animals; like me. And little Calix had found solace in that very inanimate object which was never just a trifling non-living toy to me.

Then one day, I lost it. Perhaps even today, it is somewhere in the Royal Palace, now completely ruined and covered in years of dirt, but the day I realised I would never find it, I cried till I fainted. The pain that day I had felt, equalled to feeling a thousand whiplashes on my back; a symbol being carved with hot metal on my chest; being stranded in the middle of a snowstorm while an avalanche is nearing you. Helpless. I felt helpless.

Just how I am feeling now as I hold Isha in my arms, unconscious, and blood dripping down her wound. Not even tears cascade my eyes at the painful realisation that I wasn't able to protect the one I love.

And then several hands come rushing in, screams and tears, all baked up in a complicated cake, separating me and Isha away.

"No," the haze clear as I attempt to crawl towards the woman, seeing her now being hurriedly taken away by the paramedics; her sisters accompanying behind. "Let me go. No, Isha needs me." My voice comes out as a breathy whisper, foreign to my own ears. I do not realise who it is that tells me "pull yourself together"—Carlos, Audrey, Kev...I don't know.

They struggle to hold me and tend to my injured arm. It was a mere brush of the bullet, skinning past my flesh but Isha...it penetrated through her skin.

Would she even survive?

"This is karma!" familiar cackles clear the haze I was in. The cackles of Veronica. That woman.

Red rim my eyes as my gaze falls on her. I could've killed her. I could've easily grabbed a revolver from one of the police, and killed her. But I won't. Death or physical harm isn't enough punishment for her. She will beg for death but death wouldn't embrace her.

"Veronica," my lips curve into a sneering smirk, "Do you want to know a truth before you are thrown into the prison and rot there for life?"

Veronica's face takes the form of an irritated animal, probably wondering what more do I have to say after she has managed to harm my lover terribly. She still thinks I am the same scared little boy, who danced on her manipulative fingers.

"Everyone already knows, from aristocrats to common citizens that you, who were so proud deep down of your noble lineage, are actually a commoner by birth." The announcement was made by King Richard as he was sure to cut all ties from Veronica now that the truth was into the limelight. Her family had come forward to offer the information out of guilt for raising a betrayer.

"No," Veronica's eyes enlarge in disbelief that the truth she had managed to hide so hard, was now out. Even if she had somehow managed to make me sign that damn paper, the aristocrats wouldn't have accepted her no longer.

A psychotic scream leaves her as she collapses on the floor agonizingly, struggling to breathe and I watch the woman's downfall with emotionless eyes. She squirms around like an untamed beast, crying, screeching, and soon is taken away by the police. The guy I had knocked out had long been arrested and taken away too. I shall deal with him later.

As for Killian...my eyes fall on the damn mouse trying to run away. I stand, removing the grasps from me and then with force and all anger punch his face. Over and over again till I can feel blood gushing out and painting my knuckles. He dared to put his hands on Isha again. I stomp my shoe-clad feet on his hands, the same hands he had used to harm her.

And momentarily, I am being pulled away by the police as they rush forward breaking me off from the bastard.

"Calix." Carlos' hand rests on my shoulder, resulting me in looking up at him with soulless eyes. The red rimming his eyes forces a jolt out of me. My brother has been controlling his tears, witnessing the destruction of his birth mother. The very brother whom I once thought of as reckless, has been more responsible than I ever thought he was. "I'll take care of Mo—Veronica, and the other criminals, making sure they receive the punishment they deserve. Go now. Isha needs you."

And I waste no time, as I run out to the ambulance outside, preparing for departure.

Regardless, the fact that there is a fraction of possibility of Isha not making it out alive, lingers at the back of my mind.

Two days, four hours, forty minutes, five seconds of Isha not regaining consciousness, and me being in absolute hell. The doctor has been ensuring us with reaffirming words that Isha's condition isn't fatal. But how does he know for sure? There is always a question of what if.

Audrey: Life sentence for the three criminals has been finalized with special punishments to be included in Veronica's list. Veronica will also be spending five years at an asylum first.

I read Audrey's message, clutching my phone. Good.

According to the Royal Court of Judiciary, the crime committed against Isha wasn't 'big enough' for them to declare a harsh punishment. Funny how it is easier to judge the gravity of crimes, until the tables turn, and you experience what the victim has gone through. Even the adoptive family of Veronica had to express their support in putting the three to prison for life. Who would've known that the Judiciary Court were cowards, frightened of the consequences if there ever were to exist one. But at the end, my word was heard and that fills me with relief. Neither of them will die. Not on my watch. Instead, they will rot in cells with other criminals, until the day they breathe their last. I make a mental note to talk about the 'flexible' justice system of Syncitia with Carlos, when we finally ascend the throne together.

Apparently, there were other members of Veronica's little group, spread throughout the country, majority of them being from noble houses or fallen aristocratic families. They will be stripped off their titles, all properties in wealth they possess will now belong to Nirvana. I have already made up my mind to use the money on Palatiana, and help the fallen town develop once again. As for their punishment, prison for forty years. Fortunately, the council did not hesitate on my statements for the latter criminals.

Carlos: Are you alright?

As I type back a reply, the slight smile on my drained face returns. No words can explain how hard it is for him to keep his emotions check while working against his mother, and urging for her punishment. He has been updating me constantly (besides Audrey) about the things going on and about throughout Nirvana, the news channels, the Council and Richard.

Carlos' initial words two days ago were enough to bring some of the light back in me, 'Stay with Isha. I'll handle everything, and make sure justice for her, you, us—for everyone, is rightfully served.'

Me: I am. Are you?

Carlos: Truth? No. But I will be. I have been all these years after all.

Me: I don't know how to thank you, Carlos.

Carlos: By no longer giving up on your love for Isha, and showing it to the country by overthrowing the Council King Richard has formed against you. He can hardly care about Veronica or Isha, for that matter. His so-called Council is growing stronger by each second.

That damn Council. One obstacle goes, another presents itself like a leech. I wonder if destiny is really testing our love. And if it is, then I will make sure to put up a worthy show for this destiny.

"The doctor said Didi will wake up soon," Anvi says as she comes out of Isha's hospital room, and sits on the chair beside mine, "Perhaps you should return to the palace and—"

"No," my answer is immediate, "Not until Isha wakes up."

Anvi sighs nodding. Only Kev, I and Anvi are in the hospital right now. She had to force Aria with her fiancé's help to visit Isha during the visiting hours only, considering her pregnancy.

"Do your parents know?" I ask, after a while of silence.

"Yes," Anvi answers, the saddened expression on her usually unreadable face evident, "I informed about the entire situation briefly and somehow, was successful in preventing them from booking a flight."

"I see," I hum, as another transient moment of silence prevails between us, before, she asks what I had dreaded.

"Don't you want to see Didi?"

I wanted to say yes, but no word comes out my voice-box. I had been wanting nothing but to go see her, for these past two days but the horror that might come alongside the guilt of not being able to keep her safe—it will suffocate me. The constant contemplation if I deserve to see Isha when she had been so seriously injured, kills me everytime slowly. And the most horrible thought of all is witnessing her death in front of me.

After all, the bullet was supposed to hit me but Isha took it, to save my life.

"Didi would want none but you, even in her unconscious state, in this very moment." Anvi's soft voice turns the wires in my head, complexities of voices and thoughts of all sorts ripping my brain apart.

"You are right," I take in a deep breath, reminding myself what I had promised to Isha—for us, and stand up, "I must stay beside her. No matter what happens."

Eventually, turning the doorknob around, I walk in.

Wires are connected to her body, the monitor beeping with each heartbeat, but no oxygen mask is attached since the head doctor looking over Isha claims she is out of danger. Yet I cannot stop the questions of dread settling in my head. Why isn't she waking up then? How long? What if Isha goes into a comatose state? And before I realise, tears are automatically streaming down my eyes as I close the door behind me and bring a chair from a corner, to sit beside the hospital bed. My hands tremble as I move them to grasp Isha's still ones, a broken sob seeping through me shortly.

Isha's face is pale, devoid of the usual shine it holds, and still with no movements.

"Please wake up, Isha," I whisper, my lips reverently brushing over her right hand, grasped in mind while my teardrops wet her skin, "I just want you to wake up. Please."

No response, just words delivered but not received from the woman I love. Nevertheless, I continue speaking in the dark of the room. "You must be angry at me right? I didn't visit you for two days. I-I was scared to see your condition. To-To witness your—"

I suppress my pessimistic words continuing further.

"We still need to have the date, you know," a chuckle rips through my shattered tears, "The date, after which will follow countless more. Mark my words, Isha. I will make the date so special that it wouldn't be just 'one last date' for you. But for that to happen, you have to wake up. You have to wake up so that I can plead for forgiveness for my stupid actions and try my best to win you back. And when you finally forgive me, if you decide to do so, no one will separate us. I will fight Isha. For our love. Please, please wake up and if you want, be angry at me, don't talk to me, we can go back to you taking your time with our relationship.

Honestly, there are a lot of things we need to discuss and overcome. And I am confident we will succeed. But for that, I need you beside me, Isha. I can't...I can't do this alone and without you.

So please," I choke, leaning my head on top of our intertwined hands, "Wake up. Wake up Isha.

I'm begging you."