INSEPARABLE II

XXXVIII

Noor stood at the raised surface at the border line between Basher and Kurral benevolently eyeing the crowd of subjects gathered as far out as the eye can see. There sat a proud smile on her face. Her Basher and Prem's beloved Kurral were finally being united. She eyed the sky in gratitude originating from the depths of her heart. "Thank you," she said to the universe.

On her right stood Chief Dhaliwal of Kurral and on her left was Chief Brar of Basher. Behind them were lines of important ministers and royal family members from both of the states. People of both of Basheri and Kurrali origins had travelled from far ends of the states to be present at the inauguration day.

A servant holding a tray covered with a silk red cloth appeared before Noor and she took the pair of gold scissors from his tray. When the officials at her side nodded in confirmation, she cut the red ribbon tied in front of her to complete official inauguration ritual. The crowd burst into cheers and slogans of her name while she joined the men around her in an applause.

From the distant corner of the arena, the sounds of two large horns filled the air to join the celebration. Noor felt her heart drop in her chest. As the noise of the crowd died down and the sounds of the horns became louder and clearer, a lump formed in her throat and a sense of suffocation engulfed her. Struggling to breathe, Noor's rapid heartbeat thumping in her ears combined with a growing tinnitus began competing with the sound of the horns, which resembled too closely the calls from the war horns during the attack on the capital five years ago. Memories of her on the bloody battlefield at the gates of the capital flashed through her mind and she felt sick to her stomach. Then, an intense wave of nausea hit her and within the next moment, all noise started dying down and darkness began filling the space around her eyes.

"Noor? Your Highness... NOOR!"

Her nostrils flared at the strong metallic smell of blood in the middle of the battlefield. She eyed the disgusting smirk on Dara Jarrakh's face through the one eye of hers that remained open. There was a blinding sense of pain in her other eye. Her mind took turns bringing to the surface the excruciating sharp throbbing in her right rib and left eye. It was almost unbearable. She wanted to crash into the ground. She wanted to sleep and never wake up. But it was the repulsive smile on the face of the invader before her that kept her upright. It would either be victory or death for her today, there would be no in between. Grasping at her sword one more time, Noor stepped up to Dara and laid a couple more staggeringly powerful offenses. He was taken aback. Perhaps, he was expecting her form to falter after the significant injuries he had inflicted on her.

Nonetheless, he straightened up and defended himself before becoming offensive again and attacking. Noor countered each of his attacks. The onlookers watched with bated breaths as each clash between their swords promised to rewrite the future of Doab. Making use of her heightened sense of awareness from her recent pregnancy, Noor portrayed relentless patience as she defended herself from Dara's attacks. Ultimately, it was her unwavering resolve with which she laid attacks on him that began to anger Dara. With each moment that the fight carried on, Dara became more and more impatient. It was going to be his male-ego that would help her emerge victorious, Noor decided. He could not believe he was being held back by a woman. After coming so close to victory, he was being insulted before all of his men for being weaker than this postpartum, grieving woman.

In his fragile state of mind, his anger pushed him to lay a number of blind attacks on Noor. One of which made contact with Noor's left upper arm a fraction of a second before she had the opportunity to move, and it slashed a portion of her skin right off. Having cut deep into her skin, Noor's bloodied arm displayed severed nerves through her exposed flesh. Another wave of a sharp, inescapable pain flooded her head and Noor screamed holding onto her elbow with her right hand still clutching her sword. Dara Jarrakh took that moment to sadistically admire her and smirked one more time.