Cursed Immortal (complete)

    Ages ago, I made a very terrible mistake. One that tore from me the things I loved and the things I needed. I was always told by my mother to be careful what I wished for. I never listened to her. I should have listened to her. I suppose, really, that was my first big mistake.

    I was born to a very affluent and powerful noble family. My father was king over a small providence, and my mother was a princess from a foreign land, chosen for her beauty and her family’s wealth. My mother named me Arjun since I was the first prince and a bright spot in her life. 

    Both my parents were rich on their own, but together they created one of the largest wealth in the entire Ruby Empire. I grew up wanting for not, but I wasn’t spoiled. No. My father saw it fit that I earned the life I had. He treated my mother and I both very poorly. He whipped me when I gave the slightest of offenses. He hit my mother when she did not appear as he wanted her to. I hated my father, but I also needed him.

    My mother was stronger than anyone I had ever met, but in my mind, I resented her for the way my father treated us. Why did she do nothing? Why did she act the way she did? She was always getting hit, and in my twisted sense of reality, she deserved it. In my mind, I also deserved whatever punishment my father gave me. 

    In order to escape them both, I agreed to be sent away for school. My mother cried and cried, so much, so my father found her an embarrassment and, well...he did what he always does. I never got to say goodbye to my mother that first time I was sent away. She was locked up in her room ‘resting’ as my father said. I knew from the looks on the faces of the staff that she was really recovering from his ‘loving touch.’

    While I was away at school the name my mother gave me was stripped away. My name which meant prince and bright was deemed too ‘ethnic’ by my father. While I was at school, he had instructed my teachers to call me Adam. I hated it, but I felt I had no choice in the matter.

    I enjoyed being at school though. I was away from my parents, far from the daily toils of royal life. I was free at school. I made what friends I wanted, I kept the company I desired. No one knew what I was at home, so they all I thought I was the richest prince in the land. So I played the part. 

    The more time I spent at school, the more, I became expectant on my way of life back home. I was indeed a prince, I was in fact so rich I could buy and sell any soul I wanted. As I grew, I also took on the handsome features of my father as well as the dusky, sensual look of my mother. I had my mother’s skin and hair, I had my father’s nose and build. I was not just any prince, I was THE prince.

    I had admirers all around me, both women and men fawned over me. I loved it. I didn’t care if it was for the wrong reasons. I just wanted them to adore me for any reason. My wealth, my beauty, my strength, I wanted all their eyes and affection on me. 

That was far from the case when I had to go home. Between semesters I went home, angry and bitter. I didn’t want to be here until my father had died so I could take over. I also hated seeing my mother. Not because I didn’t love her anymore, no far from. I hated seeing her and how she was changing. Once one of the most beautiful women to ever have graced the earth, now, she looked like a withered rose. My father had wrung the life out of her.

One such visit home, I was wandering the halls after having spent time with some of the plump, young maids. I was coming down the hall when I heard a scream. It was my mother. I rushed to the door, seeing my father standing over her, raising an iron poker to her.

I rushed in, not thinking or caring. I had become stronger than my father, I had grown angrier than he could ever be. I wrenched the poker from his hands, and I used it to beat him as he beat me, as he beat my mother. I don’t know how many times I struck him or how long my mother screamed at me to stop. 

When I finally stopped there wasn’t much of my father to recognize. There wasn’t a father left in that room at all. My mother and I held each other for the longest time until we knew what we had to do. 

We buried my father in the garden and planted roses over top of him. My mother and I both agreed it was best no one knew. We were lucky that my father was going away on a trip the following morning, going to a neighboring kingdom to talk to the king there. I took my father’s place, pretended to be him. Then, while the driver of the carriage was relieving himself, I had the horses run off without him. The carriage went off the mountainside and so did my father, as far as anyone knew.

I became king and was crowned on my birthday. I was elated, but when I turned to my mother, she still looked miserable. Back then I took it as a great offense, but now I realize that she didn’t see her son being crowned that day. My mother saw her husband again, and she was filled with dread and guilt.

I allowed my mother more freedoms than my father did and asked her to find me a princess to marry, one who had been as beautiful and rich as she had been. I didn’t really care, I was hoping it would just keep her busy. 

My mother made me promise that should I ever raise a hand like my father did, I would be asking a cruel fate upon myself. She told me no one ever deserved a hand raised to them, no woman, no man, no child. I was not to harm my new bride at all. If I did, I would suffer something dire. I agreed, but as I said before, I never listened to my mother.

My mother found me a princess from my own country, one who was as dark and lovely as she was. I was very pleased and welcomed her as my queen. Her fortune wasn’t as vast as I would have liked it to be, but her exquisite beauty made up for it. 

Soon she was pregnant with my first child, and I was excited to have a son. I would raise him like I wanted to be raised. He would be happy and loved, he would know how proud of him I was at all times. Oh yes, I would be nothing at all like my father.

But then, the bay was born. I rushed in to hold my son, but I was greeted with a daughter. I couldn’t understand my wife’s joy. It was a girl, not a boy. Why was she so happy? Was she stupid or something?

The baby was named Aesha, another name from another country. I had long ago forgotten my true name of Arjun, I had been Adam for far too long to remember my past and the pride once associated with it. I was disappointed in my wife, and it only grew.

One day I was having tea with my little family. My wife though, saw it fit to crawl on the ground with Aesha. She played with her, getting her dress dirty as well as the infant. I was getting fed up with it. It wasn’t until she hit the table in a way that one of the teacups fell from the table and shattered.

In my anger, I raised my hand to her. It wasn’t until I saw her crying on the ground with her hand on her cheek I realized what I had done. Aesha was screaming and screaming. My wife was screaming profanity at me. My mother had never gotten angry, but my wife was vicious.

I ran away. I went through the garden, trying to get away from them. I only wish I could escape myself. I come to the rose garden, my father’s true final resting place. I am gulping down air and shaking. I look up and see my mother stand across from the roses. Something is strange with her though. Her long dark hair falls in front of her face, and she is wearing a simple dress.

“Mama!” I cry to her.

“You do not listen,” she comes towards me, walking through the roses. “You do not care.” She stretches out her hand to me. “You only care for your own beauty and youth, your wealth.” Her fingers snap around my neck, and she forces me down onto the ground.

As I look up at her, I realize this creature isn’t my mother. It is the curse my mother put on me should I ever disobey her one request. Their hair is now flowing as if in water around their head. Their face is nothing but a skull with glowing sockets. A black tongue hangs from the disjointed jaw.

“If all you desire is what you see in the mirror, then that is all you shall have,” they whisper to me. “Face value is all you will be.” The creature drops me, and I fall to the ground coughing and sputtering. 

I feel something quiver inside me, it moves and sloshes around as if alive inside my guts. I then wretch, vomiting up blood. It spills on the roses, on my father’s grave. I am afraid and crying. But then, suddenly, I feel nothing.

I rise from my ground, and the world has changed. I feel nothing at all.

I return to the palace where I find my wife with my mother. She sees me and shouts disgraceful things at me. All things that are true. She’s going to take my mother and my child far away where I cannot reach them or harm them ever again.

I still feel nothing.

My mother looks at me, and she knows. By some grace, she manages to convince my wife to stay, it will never happen again. I agree and tell her if I should break that vow she can kill me and bury me in the roses. 

I still feel nothing.

I discover as the days go by that my senses are gone. I can see and hear, but when I touch something, I do not feel the texture of it. I shove my hand into the flames, and I feel no pain. When I eat, I do not taste the wood or wine. When I am holding my baby, I do not smell how sweet she is. I feel no pleasure, no pain. My body is a tomb for my soul to rot in.

And rot it does.

My mother passes away, and while I feel the grief, my body does not allow me to have it. I also notice, that as time passes, my form never changes. I remain young and healthy while those around me begin to wither away. My wife shows the fine lines a good life will give. My Aesha grows and marries, leaving us behind. I am given grandchildren, and they give me great-grandchildren. And yet, I never once look like a grandfather.

My wife dies, my daughter dies, my grandchildren die. Yet I remain. My great-granddaughter Tali moves in with me with her growing family. For a moment, I have peace again. My great-great-granddaughter is born where I was born. Her name was Mythri, and for the first time in a long time, my mind was quiet.

Tali loved to travel, and she was taking her family to visit a dear friend of hers. I didn’t much like it, I enjoyed having her and Mythri around. And since she was pregnant again, I didn’t want them to travel. She insisted, and they left. One day, I receive word that Tali’s caravan was attacked by Gnoll slavers. No one survived. Once again, I am left to rot in the tomb of my body.

I try to distract my mind, for while my body feels nothing, my mind has been left in a mire of agony and brambles. It feels steeped in acid and knives. It is a paper cut submerged in lemon juice. I could go on, but it would probably not make sense to anyone.

I decide to go hunting. The act of it distracts me. I focus on the target and not my own thoughts. I come upon a deer, and as I am aiming my bow, I freeze. I stare at it and watch it. My hands tremble, and I drop the arrow and bow. The deer skips away at the sound of it.

How can I kill when everything I’ve ever cared about as died?

I’m standing there when suddenly, there is a woman in front of me. She’s small but lithe, and she floats off the forest floor. Her hair is a deep wine red and floats around her like a cloud. Her eyes are bright green, and her skin glows with a radiance I’d only ever seen in sunrises and sunsets.

She pokes me, right in the eye. I pull back and grab her hand.

“Why are you sad?” She asks me.

“Go away,” I whisper.

She tilts her head to the side. “That does not answer my question, young man,” she follows me as I start to walk away. 

“Young man,” I scoff. “Do you think I am so young?”

She flows out in front of me. “Most people I meet are young,” she says.

I glare at her. “I am well over a hundred, young lady,” I snarl through my gritted teeth.

Her eyes widen at me. “Yes,” she says with a nod. “That is still very young.”

“You look younger than I do!” I snap at her. “How old might you be that a century is so young?”

“Try five centuries,” she fans out her entire palm in my face. “You are still just a baby sapling like much of these forest is.” She grins at me in triumph.

I scoff and continue walking. She continues to follow me.

“I am Mairia,” she says. “And who are you?”

I shake my head. “Why does it matter?”

“Because I want to meet you and find out why you are so sad.” Mairia moves in front of me again, and she taps her fingertip to my forehead. “There is so much pain,” she whimpers. Tears start to fall from her eyes. “It’s excruciating.”

I push her hand away from me. “Then do not touch me. It is not yours to feel.”

“But I want to help!” She insists. “Please, let me help you.”

I could not shake Mairia no matter what I did. She was a Nymph and used to the world flowing around her like a river. She did as she pleased, truly free. 

She followed me around like a puppy, wide-eyed and excited by everything I did. She tilted her head in confusion and asked many questions.

“Why do you not enjoy your food?” She asks me one evening over dinner. “You simply eat it, you don’t see to take anything from it.” She picks up her fork with green beans speared on the end. “These are fresh and crisp and saturated in butter. But you do not seem to take any of that in!”

I scoff at her and sigh. “Do not concern yourself with it.”

“But I must,” Mairia insists. “Because I can feel how much it bothers you.” She stares up at me with those big wide eyes. “Please, I wish to understand the thing that afflicts you.”

I set my mug down. “You want to know what afflicts me, Mairia?” I roll up my sleeve, and I place my arm into the flames of the candle.

“No!” Mairia cries in terror. She grabs my hand and pulls it away. “Why did you do such a horrible thing?” She has big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “Why would you so will cause yourself so much pain?”

“Because I cannot feel it, Mairia!” I snap at her. “I feel no pain. No pleasure. I do not taste. I cannot smell. I can only see and hear, and even then everything is muted to me. Your face is dull your voice is boring, and yet I know you are a beauty.”

Mairia looks up at me, and as her tears dribble down her face, they splash onto my arm, soothing the burns and healing the blisters.

“I have not aged since I was thirty,” I hiss at her. “I have not enjoyed anything since then. It is my burden. My curse.”

Mairia sniffles and whimpers. “You say you feel no pain but you misery is like a fog!” She clings to my hand. “I have felt it for so long! I have wanted to help you!” She places my hand on her cheek, and she leans into my touch.

“I have watched you, and I have wanted to be with you,” she whispers. 

I sigh and touch her to comfort her. “There is nothing you can do. And as for why you want to be with a disgusting soul as me, I can’t say.”

Mairia looks at me and then down at the ground. “I want to help,” she whispers.

“I can’t stop you,” I whisper. “No one can.”

Maria moves in closer to me, she kisses me and then wrenches back. She gazes at me and touches her temples. “I am sorry,” she whispers.

I shake my head, placing my hand over my mouth. “I wanted it,” I whisper. “But since I could not enjoy it I-” I hang my head. “Go somewhere else, Mairia, choose someone better.”

Mairia touches my cheek. “The other nymph call me willful and stubborn,” she smiles at me. “They call me a fool.” She kisses my cheek. “I will not move from you.”

“I think it’s a big mistake,” I whisper to her. “I can’t even feel the warmth from your body. I can’t give you anything in return.”

“It will be alright,” Mairia replies. “I have seen worse.”

I want to laugh but I can’t. I just gaze into her eyes hoping she understands. 

I often catch her taking down the drapes around paintings. She stares up at the long-dead members of my family as if she can read their thoughts and feelings. On one such occasion, I find her standing before the painting of my great-granddaughter Tali. 

“I feel much suffering from this one,” Mairia murmurs. I notice that he hair has started to shift color as the seasons change. It was autumn when we met and as it becomes winter the bright red of her hair is becoming silver. 

“She suffered a horrible end,” I murmur. “She and her family.”

“Not from her,” Mairia turns to me. “From you. Her death haunts you, but it is not the one I am looking for.” She touches my cheek and brushes my hair away from my face. “There is something that haunts you and causes most of your suffering.”

“I was cursed,” I tell her. “That is what haunts me.”

“I know there is more to it than that! It is not so simple as being cursed.” She grabs my hands and squeezes them tight. “Who cursed you? Why did they do it? What had you done to deserve such a thing?”

I sigh and look down at her hand squeezing mine. “I turned into my father,” I tell her and pull my hands away. “I made a promise to my mother, and I broke it. It was she who cursed me.”

Mairia furrows her brow and shakes her head. “Why would a mother curse her own son?” She gasps. “If I was so lucky as to even have one son I would-”

I stop her. “I was not a good son,” I whisper to her. “I was not a good husband or father. Just like my father was.”

Mairia shakes her head. “I do not understand.”

“My father would beat the shit out of my mother and me,” I whisper as Mairia’s expression changes. “My mother cursed me so I would never turn out to be like him. But the joke is that I already was my father.”

“You…” Mairia hesitates. “You did such a thing?”

I sigh and shake my head. “I did. It was this dark impulse deep inside me,” I mourn. “My father buried it inside me, and I dug it up. My mother saw it. She knew all along.”

Mairia puts her hands on my back. “That is why she did this. She wanted to keep it buried.”

“Buried,” I whisper. I then turn and look at her and her bright green eyes. “I think I know the death you’re looking for.”

I take her by the hand and lead her into the dying garden. The plants and flowers spring to life as she walks by. As we reach the roses, she rushes forward. She plants her hands firmly on the ground, and a terrified breath escapes her lips.

“You killed him,” she turns and looks back at me,

I furrow my brow. “How can you tell that?”

“There is rage,” she whispers. “There is pain.” She closes her eyes, and her hair starts to float around her like a cloud. “He was a bad man,” she whispers. “He had no love in his heart.” The rose start to grow around her. Their thrones dig into her arms and legs as they wrap around her. Her blood begins to pearl, and the blossoms of the roses turn bright red.

“He is still here,” Mairia whimpers. “His anger is still here!”

I rip through the roses and thrones, clawing my way to Mairia as I bloody my hands. I reach for her, pulling her from the clutches of the roses. My hands sting, and I lose my breath for a moment.

“It’s ok,” Mairia gasps. “It’s pain.” She takes hold of my hands, kissing them. I feel her warmth but barely.

“Why does it hurt?” I cry.

Mairia points to the roses. “You have to give him the forgiveness he never gave you.”

I dig up the roses and find their roots planted deep inside my father’s skeleton. He does not deserve the grave I am giving him, but Mairia promises me it is the only way that we will find peace. I bury him in the cemetery, far away from my mother, my wife, and my children. He goes on a hill, overshadowed by trees and brambles. It is a harsh and dark place like him, but even it sees the sun.

“I am proud of you Arjun,” Mairia whispers to me as my hands sting from the shovel. 

“Arjun,” I whisper as I turn to look at her. “How did you know that?”

She beams up at me, her bright and chipper face reminds me of an excited puppy about to receive a treat. “I know many things.” She takes my hands and brushes her fingertips over the blisters. I feel her touch, the tickle of how gentle it is. 

“It will return,” she whispers to me. “It will come slowly, but it will return.” She smiles at me, and I take her hand.

Surely enough, bit by bit, my senses return. Pain comes first. After that touch returns and I am able to kiss Mairia for the first time. Soon, my eyes truly open. I can see the beauty in things I had forgotten. I could look at Mairia and take in what a magnificent woman she was. My ears popped and I could hear the splendor of the world, the bells, the songs and music, the charm of Mairia’s voice. Taste and smell returned as well, and I was able to enjoy food again. It was overwhelming, and I often had to sequester myself away until my nerves calmed down. 

I am afraid, but I invite Mairia into my bed. For so long I have not felt the pleasure of sharing my bed with someone. I am afraid of the fire that Mairia’s kisses cause, but I want her all the same.

“It is ok to be nervous,” Mairia whispers to me. “It is ok to tell me no.”

“I know,” I whisper as I gaze at her naked body. “But I want this so much.”

Mairia gives me that excited grin. “So do I.” She pulls me down into her arms, kissing me hungrily. She tastes like honey and nectar, she smells like fall leaves. Her body is as warm, and summer and I press myself to her. 

Mairia moans softly as my fingers trail down her body. She giggles as I clumsily place my hand between her thighs. She sighs softly, guiding me and teaching me how to touch.

She is wet and warm, and I can feel my need turning into a powerful ache. Mairia giggles again and pushes me down into the bed. She straddles me and looks down at me with a sensual look on her face.

“You’re basically a virgin,” she purrs to me. She reaches behind herself and takes my cock into her hands. I moan and whimper, the strong sensation is familiar but new.

“It’s been over a hundred years right?” Mairia whispers. “A century?” She pulls up her hand and licks her fingertips. “Let me remind you.” She slips back, making sure I watch as she rises up. She guides my cock to her slit and grinds the tip into her clit before she takes all of me. 

I grab her hips as she eases down upon me. Mairia bites her lip and moans headily as she takes me. “You’re much bigger than the others,” she pants.

“Others?” I smirk, cocking my brow. 

Mairia giggles and starts to move. She guides my hands where to touch her, and I eagerly oblige. Being inside her is the greatest feeling I have ever known. Her heat melts into me, and I am overtaken. I cum far too soon, but she makes me reward her with my hands and mouth.

She has been eager to lay with me, so she obliges my desire that had been buried for so long. We screw like rabbits, I’m embarrassed to say. For a while, I forget life and am only concerned with Mairia and her body. I have fallen in love with her so deeply. I never expected to feel this way, even before my curse.

Needless to say, Mairia became pregnant and we married. Our first son was born, and she named him Alexander. He came into the world pink and perfect. Alexander wasn’t even one when Mairia became pregnant again. This time the birth was hard on both Mairia and our new son. Unlike Alexander, Darius was not pink, but he was perfect. It took Mairia and Darius a while to recover, but soon, we were a bright and happy family.

Some years later when the boys were grown, and I was showing my age, a centaur came to the castle presenting me an offer. My kingdom had fallen into neglect because of my own ignorance, but my wealth remained. This centaur, Demir, promised to restore my kingdom if I agreed to join his ranks.

I agreed, but only because Mairia seemed to greatly enjoy his presence and my sons were enamored with his stories. 

“I am about to go visit my friends in the Rakshasa kingdom,” Demir tells me. “I would very much like you all to join me.”

“You mean King Amit?” Alexander blurts.

Demir chuckles. “Yes. He is my closest ally and whom I consider my only equal,” he says with a look on her face I would consider love. “Since you have become some a vital part of my plans, I want you all to become acquainted.”

“I think it will be fun!” Mairia chimes. She then gives Demir a look, and he places his lips to his mouth as if promising her to a secret.

So the four of us travel with Demir and his family, going across the Cobra Strait and towards the Rakshasa Country. It was here that my great-granddaughter had lost her life. She was crossing the road between the Rakshasa Country and the Shami Desert that they were attacked by Gnoll Slavers.

“Dad, what’s wrong?” Darius asks. 

Mairia puts her hands on me. “This place holds a dark gem for your father,” she replies. “He lost the last of his family here.”

“Oh, Darius whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok,” I tell him. “Those who trespassed my family have had karma come back upon them,” I smile at my sons. Both of them are old enough to go off and have families of their own. But I have told them that they can have their lives and do things on their own time. They don’t need to rush, the world moves fast enough.

We arrive at the palace in the evening, and I am taking in the lights of the kingdom when suddenly I am faced with a ghost.

Amit’s queen looks exactly like my Tali. She is regal and beautiful with the sharp, knowing eyes of a dangerous mind. It takes me a moment to reclaim my breath so I can greet her properly. 

“Thank you for taking us into your home, my queen,” I tell her, kissing her knuckles.

“You may call me Mythri,” she grins at me. “When you are in my home, you are friends and family to us.”

“Mythri?” I whisper.

“Yes?” Mythri asks me.

I shake my head. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry.”

Mairia jumps in, pulling Mythri into her arms for a tight hug. “Your home is a wonder!  How lucky you must feel to live here!”

Mythri laughs, taking my wife’s exuberance like a champ. “You have no idea.” She leads us inside. “We have food ready for you, but if you need to rest from your journey, we can send the food to your rooms.”

“Nonsense,” I reply. “The journey was easy, and we have all been looking forward to meeting you as Demir wanted.”

My sons are looking up at Amit with awe and wonder. They have both been avid admirer of him for as long as I can remember. 

“I have two boys as well,” Mythri says then gasps. “Oh dear, three now actually.”

“Three boys?” Mairia gasps. “That must be a feat!”

“We also have a daughter,” Amit replies. “So we have four.”

Mairia looks almost offended. “Does he not leave you alone?” She whispers to Mythri.

I still cannot believe it. Queen Mythri looks exactly like my lost Tali and bears the name of my lost great-great-granddaughter. If she was a ghost, I would believe it, but she is just as much human as I am.

As we sit down to dinner Mythri serves us wine. As she bends to pour my glass, I see a necklace hang from her robes. On it is a charm that looks painfully familiar to me.

Mairia looks at me. “Darling, what’s wrong?”

My eyes remain on Mythri as she returns to Amit’s side. “My queen,” I start.

“Mythri,” she insists. 

I nod. “Oh yes,” I clear my throat. “Uhm, Mythri, ”I whisper. “That necklace you are wearing...where did you get it.”

Mythri touches the charm around her neck. “Oh,” she gasps. “I got it from my mother,” she answers me. “Before she died.”

Amit reaches out, putting her arm on Mythri’s back. “Mythri did not come to me as a princess of noble,” she explains. “She was simply a servant working in the palace. She helped me weed out those in my trust who did not earn it. I hope you will not judge her for that.”

I shake my head. “I would never.”

“I’m just a Nymph,” Mairia says, placing her hands on my chest. “Arjun has no right to speak on such matters.”

Mythri smiles, twisting the charm around in her fingers. “I was young, and I don’t remember much before the attack,” she whispers. 

“Gnolls?” I whisper.

Mythri looks up at me with a wide and shocked expression. “Yes. It was.”

The tears burn as they start to roll down my eyes. I take off my ring and hold it out to Mythri. With her lovely hands she takes it, and with a trembling breath, she lays eyes on my family crest. The one that the charm of her necklace bears.

“How-” Mythri’s eyes flood with tears as she looks up at me.

“Your mother...was she Tali?”

Mythri swallows and whimpers as she nods.

“Tali,” I start, my eyes firmly locked with Mythri’s, “Tali was my great-granddaughter,” I whisper. “I...I watched be born,” I say. “I was the first to hold you.”

Mythri cups her hands around her mouth. “How is this possible?”

Mairia is sobbing. She had known Demir’s plan all along. 

“It is a long story, my child.” I stand up and Mythri races to me. We embrace, and I kiss the top of her head like when she was a newborn. 

“Tali didn’t die,” Mythri tells me when she is able to speak again. 

I stare deeply into her eyes and choke back a sob. “Where is she?”

Mythri shakes her head. “I mean,” she laughs and wipes her eyes. “She didn’t die during the attack. She was rescued and gave birth.”

“It’s so beautiful!” Mairia wails as our sons try to comfort her.

Mythri and I both laugh. “She was saved by the oasis of Bastat,” she tells me. “Your other granddaughter is alive as well. Her name is Chiyo.”

For the longest time I was unable to cry for their loss, and now I am weeping for their return. My family was not gone, and it had not ended. It had grown and blossomed. I had great great great grandchildren now, six of them as a matter of fact. I had the children I thought I had lost and I had my new family to give to them as well. My kingdom had become everything I greedily dreamed as a child. My blood was royalty, and they were considered heroes in their own right.

Chiyo reminds me of my mother. They share the same eyes. They look determined and sharp, piercing through all the souls that cross her path. I would like to believe Chiyo gave my mother a second chance at a more powerful life.

My heart had never been so full, and I realize that this was what my poor mother had always wanted for me. 

When I am alone with Mairia, I pelt her with grateful kisses. It was because of her patience and understanding I was able to have all of this back. Without her, I would have continued to decay inside my body until I lost my mind.

Demir is smug when I meet with him again, and rightfully so. “I take it you enjoy King Amit and his family as much as I do.”

“How did you know?” I scoff at him. “Even I didn’t know!”

Demir laughs. “I am very dedicated to both Mythri and Chiyo. I owe them both a great debt, so I made it my mission to find where they came from. I found you.”

“I am a thank you present?” I laugh.

“And a pretty damn good one too,” Demir smirks. “I’ve not seen Mythri in such a state before. It’s quite fun.”

I sigh and shake my head. “This is more than I ever could have hoped for,” I whisper. “I owe you now.”

“No,” Demir replies. “I have your loyalty, that will be enough for the time being.”

“What plans do you have for me?” I ask him.

“Your sons, actually,” Demir replies. “I didn’t mean for that to sound creepy,” he chuckles. “What I mean to say is that you have brilliant sons. Alexander and Darius seem eager to continue their travels as well.”

I frown. “I nearly lost them once on a mission. I won’t let that happen again.”

Demir shakes his head and claps his hand onto my shoulder. “No worries at all. Darius is bright, I’d like to have him keep up a correspondence with some of the other kingdoms for me. Alexander seems more the adventuring type, I may partner him up with some of my messengers from time to time.”

“Only if it is what they wish to do, they may do.” I take Demir’s hand and shake it.

“This looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” Demir smirks.