CHAPTER 64 The Hour of Farewell and Memories of the Old Rooftop
The sunlight on the rooftops of Prakashgadh was fading into golden afternoon. The dust of war had settled, but the noise of memories still remained. Margdarshak Vishrayan stood on a high mound, his white robes waving gently in the wind, like flags of peace. In front of him stood all those warriors who had together defeated the darkness. Their faces were tired, but there was a special light in their eyes, like the first ray of dawn.
Margdarshak calm eyes looked at everyone one by one. Agni, Neer, Nirag, Anvay, Akshansh, Vedika, Aksh, Kalpit. There was satisfaction on his face, the satisfaction of a gardener who had saved his garden from a storm. Tiredness, but pride.
The time has come, Margdarshak voice floated with the wind, reaching everyone ears like a soft bell. Every warriors destiny has two phases. One is war, and the other is peace. This war is over. Now it is time for all of you to make your own lands green again.
Akshansh and Vedika stepped forward. On Akshansh shoulders was not just the burden of a warrior, but the responsibility of a king. A weight that made his steps a little slower, but firmer. He bent and touched Margdarshak feet. There were dried blood marks on his back.
Akshansh, Vedika, Margdarshak placed his hand on their heads, a golden energy flowing from his fingers. Rebuilding the ashes of Nabhgadh into gold is now your duty. This kingdom has witnessed your bravery, now it will witness your justice. Remember. Ruling is harder than war. In war the enemy is in front, in ruling the enemy is often hidden within you.
Vedika bowed her head with a faint smile, looking at her injured wrist. There was pain in her eyes, but more than that, resolve. Akshansh looked at Agni and Neer. There was the weight of farewell in his eyes, but on his face, the resolve of a new chapter. He gave a barely noticeable nod. A promise. A thank you.
Just then Aksh and Kalpit stepped forward. Their clothes were still stained with blood and soil, deep scratches on their armor. But there was a strange detachment in their eyes. The spark that was there on the first day of war had now dimmed.
Margdarshak, Kalpit said with joined hands, a new softness in his voice. We have seen too much blood. The clang of swords now causes pain in our ears, and every night we hear in our dreams the screams that have now fallen silent. Give us permission to go into the silence of deep forests and find peace. We no longer want to live between politics or war. Our swords will now only cut the roots of trees, not the lives of men.
Agni wanted to interrupt. His brows tensed, as if he wanted to say that a warriors duty is war. But Neer caught his hand and calmed him, a small pressure that said a lot.
Margdarshak smiled. A painful smile. Peace is not outside, it is inside, my sons. You will go to the forests, but there too your memories will follow you. Still. If you feel you will find peace there, then go. My blessings are with you. Remember. The peace you give to others, that is the true peace you find within yourself.
Aksh and Kalpit looked at everyone once more. A long, emotional gaze in which everything was said. Then they turned and slowly walked away. Their steps were moving away from the field that had seen their greatest battle.
Anvay looked at Agni and Neer with a heavy heart. His eyes were wet, throat dry. He could not go to Prakashgadh, because the people of Pawangadh were waiting for their prince. The same people who had lost their king and queen, and now trusted their young prince.
He bent and touched Agni feet. A long, deep bow. Then he stood up and hugged Neer, so tight that both their breaths stopped for a moment.
Acharya, I. Anvay voice choked, tears flowing down his cheeks. I wish I could.
Go, Anvay, Agni patted his shoulder, a guru pride and softness in his voice. Pawangadh needs a king who knows how to fight for his own, and how to show mercy even to his enemy. You have learned. You are ready.
Neer wiped Anvay tears. And remember, whenever you need us, we are with you. Send a message, and we will come. Day or night.
Anvay nodded, then turned. He looked back once. Agni, Neer, Nirag. And then walked away. His steps were heavy, but straight.
Finally, Agni, Neer, and Nirag stood together in front of Margdarshak. Prakashgadh. Agni kingdom, Neer home, Nirag heritage. The land whose soil had been longing for the scent of its masters, whose winds had been blowing like a sob for seven months.
Go to Prakashgadh, Margdarshak said, looking at Neer, a special spark in his eyes. The winds there still hold Neer coolness and Agni fire, but now they are waiting for a new voice. Nirag, he looked at Nirag. Be ready to carry your ancestors legacy. Legacy is not just a kingdom. It is values, it is culture, it is the love passed from one generation to another.
Nirag nodded seriously. There was a new maturity in his eyes. The child who got scared in war was now turning into a young prince.
That Night in Prakashgadh
Weeks later, the palace of Prakashgadh was lit with lamps. The people had welcomed their kings with tears and cheers. Flags waved, flowers showered, and eyes were full. The celebration had quieted down, and the moonlit night had taken the palace in its embrace. Only the sound of guards footsteps and somewhere in the distance, the sound of an owl floated in the air.
On the highest rooftop of the palace, from where the whole kingdom looked like a silver sheet. Small lights of lamps burning in houses, the moonlit stream of the river, and the dark shapes of distant mountains. Agni stood. His hands rested on the railing, fingers gripping the stone so tight that his knuckles turned white. The cold night wind touched his face, moving his hair, but the restlessness inside him had not yet calmed.
The sound of footsteps came from behind. Slow, measured steps falling on the stone stairs. Agni did not need to turn. The fragrance. Of a special plant growing by the river that Neer always carried. His walking style. Light, as if walking on water. He could recognize it among thousands.
Neer quietly came and stood beside him. He also put his hands on the railing, his fingers just an inch away from Agni. Silence between them, but that silence was not heavy. It was deep like centuries old trust. A silence that says more than words.
The moon is very clear tonight, Neer said softly, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon where moonlight met the sea. It looks as if the sky has washed away all the clouds, and now it is shining like a mirror.
Agni let out a long, trembling breath. I did not think, Neer. That I would stand on this roof with you again. This is the same place, right. Where we used to come as children, when Margdarshak used to give us strict punishments. We used to come here and sit, and you used to tell me that one day we would become great warriors.
He shook his head, a painful laugh on his lips. I spent many nights here, alone. When you were not there, these walls used to run to cut me. Every stone reminded me of you. Every gust of wind seemed to imitate your voice. I. I started talking to myself. In your name. In your memory.
Neer stretched his hand and placed it over Agni hand. A cold, steady touch that left a calming effect on Agni hot skin. When did I ever leave, Agni. I was caressing your wounds as your shadow. When you screamed in pain, tossed in fever at night, my hands would tremble wearing Varunya cloak. I wanted to tell you that I am here, that I am with you. But I could not. Because if Andhak Void found out I was alive, he would attack again, and this time there would be no way to save you.
Agni turned suddenly. Moisture appeared in his eyes. Hot tears shining in the moonlight. He looked into Neer eyes. In those blue depths where all the mystery of the ocean was contained.
But you could not recognize, could you, Agni voice was broken. Neer, that day when you jumped into the gorge. When I saw you take that black strike on yourself and fall. Half of my body burned. I tried to scream, but no voice came. I ran, but my feet would not lift. I was a king, a warrior, but in that moment I was just an orphan child who had lost everything.
Agni hid his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. Seven months of pressure, seven months of pain, seven months of loneliness. Everything coming out together.
Neer looked at him. Agni, who was called the god of fire, who could bathe in lava, today was melting in front of his own emotions. Neer stepped forward and touched a small line on Agni forehead. The deep line formed by worry.
Agni, our fates are intertwined with each other, Neer said softly, deep music in his voice. Just as without fire, water existence evaporates, and without water, fire turns everything to ash. We cannot be separate. No matter how hard anyone tries. No matter how much time passes. Our souls are tied with one thread.
Agni rested his head on Neer shoulder. Without any hesitation, without any ego. It was like a child seeking shelter, a brother taking support. Nirag is asleep.
Yes, Neer voice had a father softness, the softness that only a parent has for their child. He was sad about Anvay leaving, but now he feels safe. He kept waking up and checking that I had not disappeared. When I would leave his room, he would open his eyes and watch, and when I would come back, he would close his eyes and pretend to sleep.
Agni laughed a little, a laugh in which both pain and relief were mixed. As if someone had returned home after years. He has the right to be afraid. He struck his own father with his own hands. He is no longer the child we knew. We cannot even imagine what he has been through. It will take time to heal him. Maybe a lifetime.
We will do it together, Neer said firmly, placing his hand on Agni shoulder. Just as we rebuilt Nabhgadh. Stone by stone, wall by wall. We will also rebuild Nirag trust. With patience. With love. And with the memory that he is our son, and we are his parents.
Just then a gust of cold wind came from below the palace. Fast, sudden, as if some invisible power had pushed it upward. This wind was not ordinary. There was a special coldness in it, a special smell.
Agni closed his eyes. He felt that the dark power inside him, which had been running in his veins for seven months, keeping him awake at night, was now slowly turning into cold ash. But under that ash, there was a strange movement. A sensation as if a seed was sprouting, or a door was opening.
Agni opened his eyes and looked at Neer, a new concern in his eyes. Neer. Do you also feel it? As if something is not over? As if this war was just a phase, and now a new turn is coming? As if there is a call pulling us toward it? A voice calling our names?
Neer smile faded a little, but the depth in his eyes increased. The depth that hides the deepest secrets of the ocean. He looked at those stars in the sky that shone the brightest. A special group forming a strange shape, as if a door or entrance.
The void is never empty, Agni, Neer said softly, a prophetic tone in his voice. Andhak Void is gone, but the space he left. That space is still waiting for someone. Nature does not like emptiness. Where one power goes, another comes. And sometimes. Sometimes that power calls us. Because we have known that space. We have touched that darkness.
Agni held Neer hand tightly. So tight that Neer fingers turned white. Whatever it is, Neer. This time we will go together. Whether it is heaven, or hell, or that infinite darkness we call void. This time you will not leave me. And nor will I leave you. This time we will go together. Promise me.
Neer looked into Agni eyes. Those red eyes that were blurry with tears today, but still burning with the same fire. He nodded slowly. A deep, unshakeable resolve.
Together, Neer said, and the same old smile returned to his lips. Always. Whatever happens. Wherever we have to go. We will be together.
The flame of the lamp on the roof flickered for a moment, as if touched by some invisible power. A gust that was not in the air, yet the flame moved. Below, Prakashgadh was sleeping. Unaware, peaceful, rejoicing in the return of its kings. Unaware that its two protectors were now moving toward a destiny from where return might not be possible, where the path was still unknown, where the darkness was still unfamiliar.
But that night, on that rooftop, in that moonlight, there were just two friends. Two brothers. Two souls that had merged into each other. They were just celebrating each other presence. That simple, precious gift they had been searching for seven months.
The moon was now above them. Full, bright, like a silver plate. And their shadows were falling long on the ground, slowly moving forward, and finally merging into one. One long, inseparable shadow that remained on the stone, as if a promise forever etched.
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