Soon, the distant murmur of falling water, woven with the soft melodies of insects and birds, reached the children's ears.
At the sound, the boys broke into a run.
"Be careful not to slip," the young knight called from behind.
He followed at a steady pace, carrying the little girl, who had now woken up and was quietly watching the path ahead.
Pushing through the woods, the boys came to a place that looked liked a dream.
Breathless, the boys halted—staring in silent awe at the shimmering veil of water cascading from high atop the mountain. A small rainbow sparkled in the misty spray, while butterflies danced nearby.
Startled by their arrival, a group of apes that had been drinking from the stream leapt up into the trees with sharp, startled whoops.
The sight alone was enough to lift the weight of their fatigue.
Meanwhile, Ipsha, now walking on her own, moved carefully alongside Aabir. She held his hand, taking cautious steps on the moss-slick stones that shifted beneath her feet.
When she reached the edge of the waterfall, she paused, wide-eyed and speechless.
"It's pretty," she whispered.
"I got here first!"
"No, I saw it first!"
Aniket and Chandra's voices shattered the moment.
"Now, why are you two arguing?" Aabir asked casually, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.
Unsurprised by their usual bickering, he glanced around, keeping an eye on their surroundings.
"Chandra says he won, even though I touched the water first," Aniket complained.
"I pointed it out first, so I won," Chandra replied mockingly, sticking out his tongue.
Sigh!
Aabir stepped closer, placed a hand on both their heads, and made them sit down.
"Quietly now, don't squabble. — We will continue after a while. So, let your bodies rest a little," he said firmly.
The boys sat in silence, pouting, still scuffling with hand gestures and whispers.
Watching them act so carelessly, Aabir—who had kept his guard up since the start of their journey—let out a quiet sigh. The weight of uncertainty that had lingered in his chest slowly gave way to a moment of calm. He, too, took a seat on a nearby rock.
A short distance away, Ipsha played near the stream, splashing the water with her hands. Little spirit-like, winged petals of color circled gently above her head. Every now and then, she tried to make them fall by splashing water upward.
"Ipsha, don't get too close to the waterfall," Aabir called, seeing her chase after a butterfly.
"Understood, brother!" Ipsha replied, her lips curled into a pristine smile—unaware of the forthcoming darkness that lingered beneath the gentle patter of falling water.
***
The sun slowly drowned beyond the horizon, while the moon climbed up in the sky. Birds had spread their wings toward their nests, their wings slicing through crimson clouds, as a chilling darkness spread across the valley—softly lit by the warm glow of lantern flames flickering to life.
Meanwhile, the group that had been walking since morning now took their final steps, as they stood before the gates of the fortress.
"Finally..." Aniket muttered, gasping for air.
"Why did you suddenly start running?" he shouted at Chandra, who was just as breathless.
"Hehe"
"Urgh!"
Creak,
The sound of the thick wooden door slowly opening grabbed their attention. Aniket steadied himself, while Chandra stood up straight.
Behind the tall gates, an old man stepped forward. By the looks of him, he seemed nearly the same age as Commander Tenzing. His long grey hair framed a weathered face, and his white and grey attire—devoid of any extravagant shine or color—carried the silent tranquility of the moon.
Seeing the old man approach, Aabir gently lowered Ipsha from his back.
The man extended his arms slightly in a respectful gesture. His eyes lingered briefly on the young girl now standing beside Aabir, holding his hand, then shifted to Chandra. He bowed slightly.
"Greetings, young prince," his voice calm and still. "I am Dhritiman, steward of this fortress. The guard informed me of your arrival. I trust your journey wasn't too tiring… or difficult."
"Good evening, Sir Dhritiman," Chandra bowed in response. "There wasn't really any problem since Brother Aabir was with us. We even played near the waterfall." He replied with innocence, while carrying the dignity of being a "Prince".
"Ah, I see. Well, if the 'Youngest Sword-master' himself was with you, I shouldn't worry."
His lips curled into a smirk, while his eyes waited for Aabir to respond.
[Silent as ever! Hah!]
His gaze shifted to Aniket and Ipsha standing beside Knight Aabir, and then back to Chandra.
"Young Prince, while I am relieved that there wasn't any problem, I must say, you and your friends look exhausted—why don't we continue our conversation after some rest? By then, King Hi'um—your uncle—will also be done with work."
"Yes," the boy replied, with an embarrassed chuckle.
Dhritiman waved his hand. A thin man, who had been walking behind him stepped forward. His head was deeply bowed, his hands cupped in front.
"Escort the young Prince and his friends to the guest room," Dhritiman ordered.
Turning to the prince, he continued," Please understand — I had no prior knowledge of your visit. Though, by tomorrow, appropriate arrangements will be in place for both you and your friends."
"It's alright, Sir Dhritiman," Chandra replied kindly.
The children then followed the servant to their stay, while Dhritiman watched them walk away from the corners of his eyes. Then he took a deep breath and turned to face Aabir, who had been walking just behind the group.
"Sir Aabir Borbaruah—the Beast of the Valley. It's a pleasure," Dhritiman said, amused.
"But—" His voice carried a calm yet firm tone honed over the years. "Before you enter...why don't we talk for a moment?"
Aabir, who was like a silent rock, looked toward Dhritiman.
Coldly, he spoke," What is it?"
"Still as cold as always...I was hoping we could at least pretend to have a normal conversation before the unpleasant part. But if you ask...," Dhritiman sighed and continued," I am sorry but you cannot enter."
"What?!"
"Now, now — before you misunderstand — it's not because I don't wish you to enter. But," he said gently.
"You are well aware of the rising tension between the two kingdoms. And please understand that the soldiers on our side would be uneasy if I allow someone of your caliber to enter."
At those words, Aabir remained unfazed, though a slight hint of annoyance surfaced. His eyebrows furrowed, and his forehead wrinkled.
"However—," Looking at the expressions of the young knight, Dhritiman continued. "Prince Chandra and his friends are gladly welcomed...Even His Majesty, King Hi'um, has expressed his wish to meet his nephew many times— Besides that, it wouldn't be wise to walk through the dense forest with kids, during night at this time of the year."
"The sole reason of our visit is to invite King Hi'um to the harvest festival and Prince Chandra's coming-of-age ritual. Just deliver the message, and we'll take our leave. It's alright if I can't enter, but I won't leave the children alone. Their safety was entrusted to me, and I won't abandon my duty," Aabir said, unwavering.
...
For a moment the two men didn't speak even a word, looking dead in the eyes they waited for the other to back down.
"Are you implying that Lord Hi'um would harm Prince Chandra—his own nephew?"
Aabir held his gaze. "You know exactly what I'm implying… and who might harm whom."
The silence thickened.
Dhritiman finally looked away and exhaled. "You may leave. It's clear neither of us trusts the other."
He turned and began walking inside. After a few steps, he paused, glancing over his shoulder.
"Still—for what it's worth—I give you my word: no harm will come to those you've brought."
Dhritiman knew Aabir would never take an action that might escalate the tension between the two kings. Without another word, he walked inside. Like a storm passing from afar, he took a breath of relief and disappeared into the fortress.
Meanwhile, outside the giant gates, Aabir stood still. His hand gripped the sword at his waist, his gaze unmoving.
[Should I just...?]
Breathing heavily, his heart began to race, heat rising to his face.
But as if he became hesitant — whether from the thought of consequences or simply to quiet the emotions stirring within — he drew a long breath. His heartbeat slowed. His breath came to normal.
Aabir let go of his sword and began walking back down the valley, with heavy steps, that eventually picked pace.