Anilgarh: The Shadow of Sorrow's Evening
A heavy, stunned silence filled the palace of Anilgarh a silence sharper than any sound. Soldiers walked with slow, heavy steps, their feet barely lifting off the ground, as if each step was a blow upon a fresh grave. Their armor was caked not with the glory of victory, but with dried mud and blood. In their eyes was not the fatigue of battle, but the hollow look of an unspeakable defeat. There were no cheers, no victory chants—only the echoing silence of death and loss, bouncing off every cold stone wall.
The grand courtyard, once alive with the sounds of laughter and commanding voices, was now filled with tears, lament, and emptiness. The fountains stood dry. The flowers in the decorative pots had wilted. Garlands hung limply from the archways, speaking only of mourning.
From the inner chambers, Queen Vaibhavi emerged. She moved slowly, as if each step drained the last of her strength. Her hands trembled violently. Tears streamed down her face in a continuous, silent river, yet her eyes themselves looked dry and burnt out, as if the very power to weep had been stolen from her.
Queen Vaibhavi (Screaming, gasping for air):
"My king!My lord! My everything… Why… Why did you leave without me!? Before my very eyes… my entire world…"
Neer stood a few paces away, beside the bier that held his father's body. His eyes were red and swollen, but his face was set like stone, hard and unyielding. He knelt on the ground, one hand resting on the floor for support, the other gently placed on the cloth-wrapped form of his father—a form now shrouded in golden silk, within which King Vyomesh had ceased to exist.
Neer (Trembling, whispering to the shroud):
"Father…why… why did you go? Why did you take it from me… from me? What… what do I do now?"
Queen Vaibhavi collapsed to her knees, then fell forward onto the cold marble. She clutched at her own hair, then pressed her forehead against her husband's bier, her body rocking back and forth in a primal rhythm of grief. The hem of her sari was dirty from the floor. The sound that came from her throat was the pure, broken sound of a wife's unthinkable loss.
Queen Vaibhavi (Wailing, her voice shattering):
"Oh,my king… Oh, my life… Someone save me… Someone tell me this is a dream… that you will come back… Ohhh… Ohhh!"
All the courtiers and soldiers could only watch. No one dared to step forward. Everyone was paralyzed. In every person's eyes was their own private pain, their own shock, but the greatest agony was reserved for the Queen-Mother, now sitting on the earth, clinging to the lifeless shell of her partner.
The sound of lament echoed through the palace halls, as if the very stones of Anilgarh were weeping—the walls, the wooden doors, the curtains swaying in the breeze… all of it. Neer was now completely shattered. He rested his head against his father's bier, his body shaking with silent, shuddering sobs that occasionally broke into choked cries.
Neer (Voice thick with tears):
"Father…my life… I couldn't do anything… I… I promised you… but… I failed…"
Queen Vaibhavi reached a trembling hand to pat his back, but she could form no words. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. The entire hall was filled with a strange, awful mixture of raw anguish, quiet weeping, and the heavy, hidden pain of a kingdom broken.
If one looked out the window, the distant battlefield was still a smear of blood and dust—crows circled far away, and the wind carried the stale scent of death. In Neer's eyes, there was only a hollow emptiness, pain, and a loneliness so vast it felt like drowning—the loneliness that comes when your greatest pillar of support crumbles into dust before you.
Queen Vaibhavi pulled her son into a tight embrace, her voice a broken attempt at strength:
Queen Vaibhavi:
"Our king is gone…but we are still here… We… we must be strong…"
But her own voice lacked conviction; it only held a reflection of pain. She knew she was saying it more for herself than for Neer. Because in Neer's eyes, there was now only one question: What now?
In the palace, there was no laughter, no joy. Only lament, the echo of wails, and the deep, shared shadow of defeat and pain hanging over everyone. And in that shadow, Neer's face was the most broken of all because he had not only lost his father, he had lost his closest friend… and perhaps, he had lost himself.
---
Anilgarh – A Few Days Later
Neer carried a simple meal to his mother's chambers. The plate held only plain food rice, lentils, one vegetable. Queen Vaibhavi sat by the window, staring out at nothing. Her eyes were still puffy, but the tracks of her tears had dried.
Neer (Softening his voice):
"Mother,please eat. How long will you sit alone in your room? I've brought food for you."
Queen Vaibhavi (Without turning, her voice a rasp):
"Son…I'm not hungry."
Neer (Setting the plate down gently):
"If you don't eat,then I won't eat either."
The Queen slowly turned. A faint tenderness touched her eyes, but even that tenderness was exhausted.
Queen Vaibhavi:
"Have you not eaten,my son?"
Neer (Shaking his head):
"No,Mother."
The Queen let out a long, shuddering sigh and gestured towards the plate.
Queen Vaibhavi:
"Alright.I will eat. You must eat with me."
She picked up the spoon. With her own hands, she fed Neer—first a spoonful of lentils, then a little rice. Neer ate quietly. Then, he took the spoon and, with great care, fed his mother in return. This was not a meal; it was a ritual—the bond of mother and son, surviving even after death.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door. A soldier entered.
Soldier:
"My Queen,some esteemed visitors have come to see you."
Queen Vaibhavi (A touch of formality returning to her voice):
"Show them in."
Two men entered the chamber—Akshay and his father, Brijesha. Brijesha's face was etched with deep sympathy, and Akshay's eyes grew wet the moment they met Neer's.
Brijesha (Bowing his head):
"My Queen,we are deeply grieved. Hearing about the Maharaj… He was our friend, after all. What the neighboring kingdom did was not right. Now, my Queen, only your son Neer remains to shoulder the responsibility for you and the kingdom."
Akshay (Moving towards Neer):
"My friend,we are so sorry for your loss. We cannot fully understand your pain, but whenever you need help, remember us."
Neer, hiding his tears, stepped forward and hugged Akshay tightly. It was a hug that held a long-awaited moment of comfort.
Neer (Voice hoarse):
"Yes…my friend…"
Queen Vaibhavi:
"Brijesha,please sit. I will arrange for some refreshments."
Brijesha (Folding his hands):
"No,My Queen. We have not come to eat. We only came to see you and our Prince."
Akshay:
"You sit,Father. I will speak with Neer outside for a moment."
Akshay led Neer out to the balcony.
Akshay:
"Neer,we know all of this happened suddenly, and something unthinkable happened on that battlefield. Don't worry. Everything will be alright. Take care of yourself and your mother. All of this is on you now. The responsibility for the kingdom and this palace is in your hands. We have complete faith in you."
Neer could only nod. He wanted to say something—perhaps about the battle, about Agni, about the curse he had uttered. But the words wouldn't come. Only a heavy sigh escaped, and the same old pain flickered in his eyes.
Just then, Brijesha joined them and hugged Neer.
Brijesha:
"Prince,take care of yourself. We must leave now."
Neer (Nodding again):
"Yes…"
He walked them to the palace gates. As they left, Akshay turned to look back once more. In Neer's eyes, he read the same unanswered question—Will everything really be alright?
The gates closed. The palace was swallowed again by its profound silence. Neer walked slowly back towards his mother's chambers. On the way, he paused at a window, looking out—far, far into the distance, where the road to Tejgarh lay.
In his mind's eye was only one image: Agni's face, blurred by the smoke of war, and in his eyes, the same guilt that now pulsed like a second heartbeat in Neer's own chest.
The days passed slowly, each one a new weight, each night bringing the same dream the same battlefield, the same Agni, and the same echoing curse.