Chapter 23 part A

Uncharted waters

A crisp sunlight greeted the Anjani capital that morning. It was mid spring, and the carefully landscaped personal garden surrounding Suvanna's summer pallor was in full bloom. However, the princess regarded the beauty around her with her icy cold blue gaze as she sipped delicately from the teacup she was offered by a shivering maid. There was no appreciation in her gaze, her features arranged into a calculative silence as she waited surrounded by her ladies in waiting who often kept a fearful watch over her from their peripheral view.

Suvanna ignored the way they kept a safe distance from her, as if, in more human terms, she was a ticking off time bomb. On some occasions she amused herself by scowling at the timid well-bred girls, they would dart off faster than arrows with startled yelps, leaving whatever they brought scattered on the ground. But that morning, her attentions were diverted towards a more pressing matter that she did not care the slightest about how the hand of the well practiced tea serving lady trembled as she poured the second or third cup of the orange blossom tea that Suvanna preferred. She took the offered cup with pressed lips and held it to her mouth; eyes narrowed a little as she waited for her guest.

Suvanna was not fond of kept waiting, although she had spent her first year as a witchcraft novice devoted to clearing her inner eye via meditation, she hated the hours spent in anticipation. At the present however she was in no place to complain. Her mind went to a distant past in human realms where her caretaker, an old man with smiling gray eyes had taught her to play chess on a snowy evening. If she let her memory, it would remind her of the pleasant warmth in front of the fireplace filled with cackling pinewood, the dancing shadows on the wooden chessboard. What she was thinking about was the queening of a pawn, an instance where a measly piece on the board got engorged in power and position. Suvanna couldn't help but feel her father was trying to do the same thing, albeit in a more covert manner. The new pawn he had acquired for his collection was fitting in every sense, a perfect disguise, diversion for the ministers whom she toiled to turn favorable towards her. There was no denying of her claim to the throne either. If they set aside the prejudice that came hand in hand with the Anjani pride, it was true that Princess Arya's claim to the throne was higher than her father's. It would automatically place Kalyaani before Suvanna in the line to throne.

A better player is the one who knew how to use the opponent's pawn's against him and Suvanna had no doubt that she was a better player than most at the court. However, lady Kalyaani was still uncharted waters in regard of plotting. Suvanna believed in knowing her enemies better than her friends. It was just the thing she was doing at that moment, tossing a bait towards her enemy in hopes of luring it into her net of observations. Lady Kalyaani was an interesting woman, a half human, brought up by the Nagas and most intriguingly involved in a web of conflicts with the Vajra brothers and their queen mother. Suvanna was yet undecided where Kalyaani's affections lay in terms of those two princes. Who was really her reason of returning to the kingdom her mother had forsaken a long before she was born? Was it Lakshya, her friend on the human realms, or was it Sanskar, the man who chased her for the better part of his life?

There was no way of finding out, if not from the horse's mouth.

"Lady Kalyaani!" Her lips twisted into an icy faint smile as Suvanna rose from her seat, extending an arm to her estranged cousin, as she approached the bottom of the stairs leading up to the summer pallor.

Swara didn't fail to notice the predatory look that flashed across Suvanna's gaze as she hugged her. For a brief moment she wondered how well she had mastered the art of concealing her emotions. Sure, there was hatred, venomous and bubbling but it was hardly reflected in her warm embrace or the dazzling smile. Inhaling secretly and willing herself to return that empty smile, Swara felt the tingling rush of adrenaline as she took the seat Suvanna offered. Suvanna's pensive gaze never left her as she settled herself, a lady in waiting rushing to serve a pleasant smelling brew. Megha's warnings from the evening were still ringing in her mind as she accepted the cup, the teachings on various venoms and their fragrances tickling her brain. Megha was strictly against the idea of accepting the invitation that arrived in the hand of a terrified looking girl.

"As if the father was any less," he hissed, applying a thicker than necessary layer of herbal paste on a wounded warrior's shoulder. "Is it necessary that the daughter starts playing with you too?"

"I'm sorry," Swara muttered, concernedly watching the sour faced warrior as the man fidgeted in pain at the pressure Megha was applying. "You had to act guardian for a woman magnetic to trouble."

Megha shook his head dismissively.

"That's not what I meant," he said briskly. "I'm simply wondering what's wrong with all these people. It's like they were taught since birth that their subjects are pawns in a giant chess game."

"You know how to play chess?" She inquired suddenly. It was highly unlikely that Megha had ever crossed over to the human realms and the fact that a wandering Bhava might know what chess was intrigued Swara.

"My mother spoke of the game," he replied with a nod. That brought forth a new thread of thoughts. Was Sanskar right about the whole mystery regarding Megha's mom? If he was, what could be the secret someone was so desperate to hide? Swara wondered if she had done the right thing by listening to Sanskar and keeping the whole exchange under wraps from Megha. She had only told him there had been no records of his mother in the hall of annals after returning the previous night. Now, seeing how concerned Megha was of her safety and well being, Swara felt guilty for that tiny lie. Perhaps she should have been more loyal to her friend. But then again, there wasn't much to be said about the matter. All she knew was a well-placed guess by an elven prince, which was as good as nothing in her opinion. She wasn't even sure if Sanskar was being honest with her to begin with. Their history was blur with so many charms and trickery that she was no longer sure if she believed the man at all.

"You seem lost Lady Kalyaani," Suvanna mused aloud sweetly calling her back to her surroundings. Swara jumped and turned her gaze on the graceful yet wicked figure sitting opposite sipping delicately from her teacup. "Is the tea not to your liking? I prefer orange blossom tea in the mornings like these, I thought you'd like the rejuvenating taste as well. Perhaps I should call for something different?"

"I'm not used to it, true.." She smiled taking a small sip from her own cup, the heady smell made it difficult to swallow the warm liquid. "But I can learn a few new things from Anjani court while I'm here."

"I always forget that you're new here," Suvanna inclined her head, pearls in her complicated hairdo catching light as she did so. "It seems you've always been a part of the bigger picture...the surrounding I mean, you feel like family."

Such warm words, cocooned in them vile notions...Swara mused as she sipped the bitter yet strong smelling liquid that Suvanna called Orange blossom tea.

"You're too sweet sister," she said instead, trying to keep the bitterness of her tongue. She tried not to meet that strange blue gaze as she did so. Swara was not yet used to see Suvanna's sapphire eyes glaring at her from Ragini's soft face. It brought forth too many memories and a dull ache in her heart when she thought of her long time sister figure. It was a sense of failure to protect her from the evils of her own world, the storms she brought along with her presence. Swara sighed, and sipped a bit more tea. "But I still don't understand why you invited me here, is anything troubling you, perhaps a medicine I could suggest?"

"Oh I'm sure you can't heal my wounds Sister, they are too old for any brews and pastes." Suvanna laughed mirthlessly, for a moment Swara was certain she saw a flicker of pain across her azure eyes before the curtains were drawn over them once more. "I just wanted to involve you in planning the blossom ball, since you're practically family now."

"I have to confess I know nothing of this event, perhaps it's better if you do it with your capable hands sister."

"Nonsense!" Suvanna waved a dismissing hand, chuckling a bit as she laid her teacup down. "It's a tradition of Anjanis to celebrate the spring festivals with a ball. And the champions will be invited too...the remaining ones, by the time of the ball." Swara noted the sharp look Suvanna gave her as she paused at that. But she choose not to comment on it.

"By the rate they are going," she said rather uninterestedly. "I wonder if any would be left in condition to attend functions sister."

Suvanna laughed aloud at that, her eyes remaining cold and turning a tad bit darker.

"Sure, we have a bunch of flesh eaters this season," she giggled clasping a hand over her mouth. "But as the tradition dictates there will be three champions left by the night of the ball. Only one of them would stand victorious in the following day."

"So two more champions will be eliminated before that?"

"Or killed," Suvanna offered innocently. "Don't flinch sister, Anjanis aren't afraid of blood."

"Perhaps it's my human instincts that are terrified," Swara offered. "Excuse me sister, I had a previous commitment I just remembered."

"Oh," Suvanna rose to bid her farewell and held her hands like a loyal friend. "I wish we'd be seeing more of each other sister, after all we have a ball to plan."

"As the princess commands," Swara said bowing gracefully in farewell.

The moment Suvanna's fingers slid from their grasp around her wrists and Swara almost let go of the control she had held over her power; their auras brushed together and a vision bloomed in her mind's eye.

"All hail the king!" a collective cheer boomed and was followed by the respective echo of, "Long live the king!"

A broad shouldered, long haired man walked towards the gold detailed throne, a cape of ruby red sweeping on his wake.

"Sister," the man called someone as soon as he reached the throne, his hand stretched towards someone she could not make out in the crowd. "Kneel for your princess," the man addressed the crowd, "the lady of Anjanis!"

**

It sounded like rain, the sound of the waterfall, as the weight of the water slammed against the bed of rocks. The sprinkling water created a misty hue over her vision that Swara almost failed to recognize the figure perched on the huge bolder, halfway across the river.

"Lakshya!" She breathed, balancing her way on the slippery rocks towards him. "You almost gave me a fright." She eyed him keenly, he looked like a fallen angel as he rested on the rock, gazing at the clouds arms wrapped around his knees. He didn't turn around to greet her, as she sat by his side on the boulder. "Is it a bad time?" She asked him. "Do you want to be left alone?"

Lakshya chuckled, darkly before finally turning his gaze upon her.

"You're the first to ask my opinion about that," he said, failing to keep the bitterness from coating his words. "I've always been left alone no matter what I wanted."

"It's not your fault really," Swara said in a small voice, wondering if she had any part to play in the misfortune the exiled prince had to suffer.

"Of cause," Lakshya agreed. "It's no one's fault but that seer's, who had no idea what she was saying." She gulped, watching the whirls forming in the water as they rushed towards the fall. "And my foolish family, who believes in a future no one had seen over a past and a present they know all too well."

"Do you hate her?" She couldn't help but ask. "The girl who predicted your future?"

"Does that make me a monster?" She didn't answer that and he chuckled. "Anyway, leave it. What brings you here?"

"I wanted to clear my head, think over some matters."
"Anything, bothering you?"

"There are things, I'm forced to keep from people. Mostly it is for their own good. Or so I am led to believe. Then there are things I'm afraid of disclosing, again for the same reason. I wonder if I'm doing the right thing or stirring up bigger trouble."

"Whoa!" Lakshya exclaimed. "Can I confess I didn't understand anything you just said?"

Swara sighed.

"There's this person, who might solve my problem. But then, he's not the most trustworthy man on the block. Should I trust him with what I know, or should I simply keep things to myself."

"Has this man," Lakshya said thoughtfully. "Really given you a reason to distrust him?"

"Many, yes!"

"Has there any reason for you to trust him?"

"He saved my life and if I'm not mistaken, he continues to."

"Then you should tell him," he concluded with a brief shake of his head. "Whatever his intentions regarding you might be, it seems this person wants to keep you safe. Why don't you give him a chance?"

"Perhaps I might," Swara said lightly, settling herself more comfortably on the slippery surface of the boulder. "That reminds me, why are you here?"

There was a thoughtful pause in which Lakshya tried to gather his answer and then when he spoke, there was a distant look in his eye.

"Have you ever been to my home town?"

"Vajrateerta?" Swara asked in a tense tone. "Briefly yes, but I don't remember much."

"There is this custom among warriors were you sent off the souls of the dead towards the heaven, where you pray for them to find eternal peace." He sighed, watching the streaming river as he spoke. "The Indra fills with lights when the kingdom celebrates the night of heroes. I still remember when my father used to conduct that ceremony. You know they say, the pure hearts can hear the Indra singing farewells for the souls as they are raised towards the sky."

"It must be beautiful."
"It is. I wonder if the dead champions find their peace? Would they be free once they leave their bodies in the arena they are bound to with their lives? I wonder if Indra sings them to heaven too? I wonder whether I'd hear her songs again, or whether my soul is tainted beyond redemption by now?"

"Lakshya," her tone was softer than she ever knew and he searched her eyes hopefully.

"I woke up this morning my hands sticky with blood, not knowing whose blood it was, not knowing how it ended up in my hands. Can you imagine how much I might have hated myself at that moment?"

"You know it's that sword right?" Swara heard herself saying, although she had no plans of sharing that bit of information with Lakshya. She couldn't bear the agony in his voice at the moment and she would have done anything to grant him a bit of relief. "It's a cursed blade that enthralls the wielder. You must learn to control it."

"How? How will I, when that wretched witch is always watching me?"

"If you want me to, I will try to look into it. The hall of annals might have something on the matter. Something about how Aithne can be tamed. I'll ask..." she swallowed, slapping herself for almost taking Sanskar's name. "I'll ask around," she rephrased her sentence.

"Why would you do that?" His voice was filled with awe, like that of a man approaching a god that Swara almost stumbled for an answer. It startled her, the way he gazed at her in wonder, immobilized as Lakshya reached out and placed a hand on her cheek. "Why would you trust a branded traitor?"

"Because you are my friend Lakshya, I know you!"

"Friend," he closed his eyes and whispered; as if it was the sweetest word he had ever heard. For a moment he reminded her of the nagging boy he had been in the human realms, always tailing after her, always begging to be her friend, to be included in their conversations and secrets. Now that she realized what prompted his behavior, the utter loneliness he had been suffering throughout his lifeSwara felt guilty of the way she had responded to him before. "Friend," he chanted the word again and again, a thoughtful smile caressing his lips.

When he opened his eyes and realized how close they actually were, Lakshya found himself drawn to Swara in a mysterious way. She was glowing in that soft gold aura of hers once more, like a fallen star or a lonely fairy light. He had never seen a more beautiful, or alluring woman in his entire life.

He might have kissed her had she not pushed him away.

Swara stood up abruptly, breathing hard herself. Her mind reeling she grasped her shivering hands tightly and turned her back to Lakshya in the pretense of dusting off her skirts.

"The healers might be looking for me, I must get going!" She said hurriedly, and without waiting for his reply started to make her way towards the castle. Lakshya watched her go, willing himself to remain where he was even when he wanted to go and hold her securely when she stumbled on a rather slippery rock. He did not move for a long time when after she had left, his eyes still dazzled by her otherworldly glow.

"I'm sorry Bhai," he muttered to himself as he tried to hold onto the warm feeling of Swara's presence. "But she will be mine."

**