THE CASCADE OF MISFORTUNE
Tejgarh
Prince Agni and Akshay sat in the palace gardens, a rare moment of quiet amidst the unending duties of state. Akshay was reviewing ledgers, speaking in low tones about tax revenues and granary stores. Agni listened silently, his gaze distant but present. The past few months had brought a fragile stability. Agni ate regular meals, attended court sessions, and even offered terse opinions on military logistics. But the vibrant fire that had once defined him was banked, subdued. He moved through life like a man navigating a familiar room in the dark, haunted by the ghosts of his father, his mother, and the curse that now bound him to Neer.
A soldier approached them at a run, his face pale, his breath coming in sharp gasps. He skidded to a halt before them.
Soldier (Panting): "Victory to the Prince!"
Agni (Frowning slightly): "What is it? My friend Akshay is right here before you."
The soldier swallowed hard, unable to meet their eyes. "My Prince… it is about the father of your friend, Akshay. Maharaj Brijesh of Vasantgarh… he has… passed away."
The words landed like physical blows. Both Agni and Akshay jerked to their feet. The color drained from Akshay's face, leaving it ashen.
Akshay (His voice trembling, he grabbed the soldier's arm): "What are you saying? How is that possible? He was in perfect health! A letter from him arrived just yesterday—he was planning to visit! When did this happen?"
Soldier (Voice hushed with reverence for the dead): "This morning… at dawn. His heart simply… stopped. The royal physician said it was a natural passing. His spirit left in peace."
The ground seemed to vanish beneath Akshay's feet. The ledger fell from his hands, scattering papers. He clutched his head, a low moan escaping his lips. "Father… No… This cannot be true!"
He turned to Agni, his eyes wide with a child's shock, tears already spilling over. "Agni, I have to go. I have to see him… I have to be there…"
Agni moved instantly. He took Akshay's arm, his grip firm, his voice cutting through the haze of shock with pragmatic calm. "Friend, steady yourself. We will have Kaka Brijesh's body brought here, to Tejgarh. We will perform his last rites with full state honors. You cannot go there alone to face all of that. You have no other family. I am here. I am with you."
It was the permission to break, the offer of shared burden, that shattered Akshay's last vestige of control. A long, shuddering sigh wracked his body. Then, his eyes fluttered and closed. His knees buckled, and he slumped forward. Agni lunged, catching him before he hit the ground.
"Akshay! Akshay!" Agni shook him gently, but his friend was lost to the world, felled by grief. Agni lifted him effortlessly, a grim echo of past battles, and carried him swiftly back to the royal chambers.
When Akshay came to, it was to the crushing weight of reality. He opened his eyes and began to weep, great, heaving sobs that held the loneliness of a suddenly orphaned son.
Akshay (Voice broken): "Father… Agni, my father… he was alone… I wasn't there…"
Agni sat on the edge of the bed, a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Be calm, brother. The arrangements have been made. His sacred remains are being brought here. His final rites will be in Tejgarh. He was your father, and you are my brother. This is his rightful place now."
Akshay turned and buried his face in Agni's shoulder, weeping freely—a raw, unfiltered outpouring of a son's pain, of sudden, profound loneliness.
Together, Agni, Akshay, Minister Viprachit, and the generals performed the solemn last rites for Brijesh. Akshay, his face a mask of stoic grief, performed the role of the son, handing the sacred flame to Agni to light the pyre. They stood side-by-side as the flames consumed the physical form of a good king and a loving father, and later, as they scattered the ashes in the holy river.
Grief-stricken yet duty-bound, Akshay tried to resume his regent's duties. But one evening, Agni found him staring blankly at a scroll, unseeing.
Agni (Hesitant): "My friend, if this is too much… I can ask Minister Viprachit to assume full responsibility for a time. You must rest. You must grieve."
Akshay looked up. His eyes were red-rimmed, but in their depths, a new, hard light of responsibility had kindled. "No, Agni. I came here to help you stand. That vow holds even more strongly now. My father taught me one thing above all: to honor my word. Do not worry. I will manage everything."
He stood and embraced Agni tightly. This hug was different from before. It was no longer just between friends; it was a pact between two young men united by shared loss, a mutual vow to bear each other's burdens.
Agni: "Alright. But promise me this: the moment it feels like too much, you tell me. Understood?"
Akshay managed a small, tearful smile. "Understood, my friend."
---
Nilagarh
Queen Vaibhavi had just bathed and was seated in her chambers. For the first time in many months, a faint sense of peace had touched her. Perhaps it was the constant, gentle care of her son, Neer. When he entered, carrying a tray of light food, she even offered him a faint smile.
Neer: "Greetings, Mother. Come, you must eat something now."
Queen Vaibhavi (With a soft smile): "Not yet, son. It has been too long since I visited the temple of our Kuldevata. I wish to go today. To pray for the protection of our kingdom, and for your safety."
Neer smiled, a genuine expression that brightened his tired face. "Of course, Mother. I will come with you."
Queen Vaibhavi shook her head gently but firmly. "No, my child. I will take my maids and a guard. It is more important you remain here and attend to the kingdom's affairs."
Neer bowed his head in acquiescence. "As you command, Mother."
From the high balcony, Neer watched the royal procession leave—the simple carriage, the mounted guards, the cluster of maids. A fragile hope bloomed in his chest. She is stepping out. She is seeking peace. This is good. This is the beginning of healing.
At the ancient forest temple, Queen Vaibhavi prayed with a sincerity she hadn't felt in years. She offered flowers, her lips moving in silent supplication. A semblance of tranquility, long absent, settled in her eyes. After the prayers, the party began the return journey through the dense forest road that connected the temple to the palace.
The attack was sudden, a thunderous roar that shattered the forest's calm.
A massive lion, its tawny coat a blur of muscle and fury, erupted from the undergrowth and charged the carriage. The guards drew their swords, but the beast's assault was too swift, too ferocious. It swatted one guard aside, his armor screeching, then barreled through the screaming maids to reach the carriage.
The Queen's cry—"Save me!"—was cut short.
The lion leaped, a powerful, terrifying arc. Its claws, designed to bring down a buffalo, struck the Queen's throat and chest. There was a sharp, choked sound, then a terrible silence.
As swiftly as it had come, the lion vanished back into the green gloom, leaving behind a scene of carnage. One guard, grievously wounded but alive, hauled himself onto a panicked horse and spurred it toward the palace.
Nilagarh Palace
Neer was in the council chamber when the blood-soaked guard collapsed at the main gate.
"Prince… the Queen… lion attack…" were the only words he managed before his life fled.
Neer froze. His mind refused the information. It was a mistake. A nightmare.
Neer (Voice trembling): "What… what did you say?"
Another guard, his face grim, confirmed it. "My Prince, he was mortally wounded. He gave the message and then… he was gone."
Neer did not wait. He was a blur of motion, bursting from the palace, leaping onto the nearest horse, and spurring it toward the forest temple. A squadron of guards scrambled to follow.
The scene he arrived at would be seared into his soul forever. The carriage stood askew. Around it lay the bodies of maids and guards. And near the carriage wheels, lay his mother.
He fell from his horse and ran to her. He gathered her into his arms, her head lolling back, her neck a ruin of terrible wounds. Her eyes were open, staring at the canopy of leaves above.
Neer (Voice cracking): "Ma… Ma… open your eyes, Ma… no… this isn't real…"
Her eyelids fluttered. A faint, wet gasp escaped her lips. She was still clinging to life, but death was a breath away.
Queen Vaibhavi (With immense difficulty, blood bubbling at her lips): "Son… my son… I will not survive… my time has come… the lion… it was so sudden… Take care… the kingdom is your responsibility now… my blessing… is always with you…"
With a final, soft exhalation, the light left her eyes. Her head grew heavy in his lap.
Neer threw his head back and screamed, a raw, animal sound of utter devastation that echoed through the silent forest. "MAAAAA!!!! NO! DON'T GO! MA, PLEASE DON'T GO!"
He rocked her, clutching her cooling body to his chest, as if his own warmth could call her spirit back. The guards and ministers arrived, forming a silent, horrified circle. They tried to pull him away, to speak words of sense, but he was unreachable, an island of pure, howling grief.
Finally, the ministers took charge. They arranged for the bodies to be carried back. Neer, with terrible gentleness, lifted his mother himself and placed her in the carriage, cradling her head for the entire journey back.
The funeral was a somber, state affair. Neer himself lit the pyre. He did not weep now; his tears had burned dry in the forest. He sat motionless before the flames, watching until the fire had consumed everything, leaving only ash and embers. He then performed the final rites, scattering the ashes in the sacred river himself.
Nilagarh Palace – A Few Days Later
Neer sat in his chamber, a statue carved from sorrow. His eyes were swollen, his face expressionless. He muttered to the empty room, a conversation with ghosts.
Neer (Voice hollow): "Why, Mother… why did you leave me too? Who do I live for now? Father is gone… now you… everything is broken…"
The Grand Minister entered quietly. His face was etched with concern. "Prince, you must gather yourself. We all share in your grief. But please, you must find your strength. What was destined has happened. You must accept it. The kingdom needs you now more than ever."
Neer did not look up. "Leave me, Minister."
The old man sighed, recognizing the impenetrable wall of pain. "As you wish, my Prince. But we are right outside. Whenever you need us."
Alone again, Neer rose and went to the window. His gaze traveled west, towards the distant lands of Tejgarh. But the tears were gone. In their place was a cold, hard glint, like sunlight on a frozen blade. A vow took shape in the icy cavern of his heart.
Agni… this is all because of you. Because of you, I lost my father. And now, because I was here, ruling a kingdom shattered by our war, I lost my mother. I was not there to protect her. I will never forgive you. And I will never forgive this curse that chains us both.
Yet, deep within, a smaller, fading voice whispered: But Neer… can you truly lay all this at his feet? Are you yourself blameless?
That voice was smothered, buried under the avalanche of fresh grief. In Neer's heart, only bitterness, sorrow, and a profound, isolating loneliness remained deepening the chasm between him and Agni into an unbridgeable abyss.