अन्तः अस्ति प्रारंभः।
The end is the beginning.
A caterpillar dies, to birth a butterfly. Water evaporates to rain down. Dead carcasses fill the stomachs of vultures.Life gives way to death and death to life. In a vicious circle of different karmas...
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For some reason, Mihira wanted to bawl. The anxiety, the overwhelming sense of being someone so inconsequential and an outsider was crushing. There seemed to be an ache in her back, the spine curling even if she tried to stand tall in the line.
Eklavya, sensing her nervousness, quietly squeezed her shoulder as they waited for their turn. "Calm down," he whispered,"fretting will not help you. Just breathe and talk with proper manners."
Mihira nodded, feeling her hair itching at her exposed back as she'd kept it tied in a braid that day, a lie no longer needed. She'd been too anxious to do any fancy hairstyle on her hair but now wondered if it would have helped present her in a more appropriate manner. She shook away the thought as the King declared someone guilty of stealing. A guard called for the next and Eklavya nudged her forward, reminding her that they were next in line.
Mihira bowed her head and joined her hands, staying silent until she was given permission to speak. Dully, she had earlier noted that the King had raised an eyebrow amusedly at a man who'd started speaking without any preamble.
"Speak, child." King Bhishmak said and Mihira raised her head. He was old, enough that she considered his retirement to be coming soon. Perhaps that was why another man, clad in similar clothes was sitting at his right. He did not lean completely on the relatively simple throne, instead choosing to sit straight but forward enough that it showed his interest in the place. He had a janeu that was almost hidden under his jewellery, the thread stark against his skin even under the bright gold.
She swallowed before she spoke. "Thank you for allowing me your audience, Maharaj. I come bearing a request."
Asking for help was not in her nature, even if she had been forced to take some help in times. She had always forced herself to lean on herself alone and the request she had felt too much like a bitter beg on her lips. However, as Mihira had insisted to Atharva and Lakshita, this was self preservation. If nothing else, Mihira had learnt that her self respect could be placed much lower than her survival in her priorities.
King Bhishmak nodded. Mihira continued,"I come from the state of Chedi, Maharaj. I have lived my time there as long as I can remember, however, the citizens of the state are now suffering from adharma and as I have pledged, I refuse to live in a place where righteousness no longer exists."
Not again, she thought to herself.
"What seems to be the issue?" The man beside King Bhishmak asked and something clicked.
His eyes were sharp, those of a warrior. The way he held himself was obvious; tall and composed. Neutral in his opinion until presented with facts, but determination surrounded him with a suffocating aura. Mihira was looking at a Royal, through and through. Silent agression under his skin, glinting jewellery that hid his scabbard and the slight bruise mark of what appeared to be tumeric on the hidden column of his throat were evidence enough.
