Chapter Two - [Aaryan]

4.8K 289 56
                                    

Her name was Seetha, I had come to know, and she was some form of enchantress. With her words and her voice, she seemed to catch my attention and hold it. Her stories were magnificent, better than any of the stories I had heard in the past and all that this showed was that she had a wild imagination... a mind with more in it than anyone I knew.

I was intrigued by her.

Especially because she was a simple village girl.

I didn't understand what it was... but oftentimes, I tried not to question what I felt. I felt that way for a reason, whether it was instinct or the whispers of the gods, I had a reason to feel the way I did.

It had been a month and a half now since I had arrived at the Western Camp and I looked forward to nothing but the weeks end to hear her stories. And today was that day.

"You're going again?" I heard my brother say to me as I tied my red silk sash around my waist before sliding my sword into it. "I don't see why you're so interested in hearing stories."

I turned to look at him.

He was sitting on my bed, mixing his dinner with his hand before he stuffed his face.

My little brother, Aarun lacked the kind of intelligence needed for a man of his status. Instead, he was a brute. He ate well and he fought well, but that was not enough to be a military leader in Chandraba. It was why he and I were here in the first place. It had become my job to teach him... to try and give him what he needs to be a better leader.

But he was hopeless. He refused to pick up a single book and prefered to spend his evenings drinking and bringing women to his bed.

I was not known for giving up... but I was known for being wise enough to know when a battle was lost.

This battle was lost.

My mother had spoiled him rotten and now I was charged with cleaning the mess.

So, I did not expect him to ever understand the power of stories, so I did not waste my time. If there was one thing I hated more than a fool, it was a fool who wasted my time. My little brother had become one of them.

So I turned around and pushed the drapes out of the way before leaving.

"Big brother!" He called after me. "Ey! I was talking to you!"

When I reached the village, I received the usual curious glances from the people there. It was a tiny village but the market was always bustling with people. I was not unfamiliar to this. Since I was a child I grew up under the wing of great warrior leaders whose duty was to teach me what I needed to know to take charge. To become their King. But the life in the military was not at all like the life at the palace.

No, palace life was much different.

As a soldier, we were constantly on the move, roaming across the country to do what it takes to maintain peace. Sometimes we stayed in the homes of nobles, but most of the time we stayed in filthy inns. So I had become used to being in villages, surrounded by people who ate less but smiled more.

I towered over most of them in terms of height, even most of the even most of the men, but I always attributed that to my health. I was certain that I was much healthier than every single person here. I was stronger too, and had more muscle on my bones. And of course, I was cleaner.

On my walk there, I passed by a small temple. Actually, it was more of a shrine, but nonetheless, I stopped walking to pay my respects, closing my eyes and reciting a prayer in my head.

That was another thing that was different about the palace life. The temples near the palace were massive. They could be the size of this village itself, painted in golds and reds with dozens of statues and looking as glorious as heaven must have been. Here in these villages however, there were these small shrines which were always well maintained. And there would always be someone praying there.

The Village GirlWhere stories live. Discover now