Legerdemain

CHAPTER-11

The journey back to the court of Astramaix went in a blur. There was no wailing woman who'd disappear, no rain, and certainly no more visions that brought the news of death. The king had finally organized a feast. He even outdid my mother. It was the prince's generosity that I was eating food alone in my room. I was a puppet, devoid of any emotions. There was nothing left inside me after I'd spent hours crying. The day had passed in a blur when the servant knocked at my door to inform me of the celebration that was going to take place at night. I refused. The king was unhappy with my decision.

My mother was given easy tasks, my father even easier ones. They told me of how they were asked to simply help people or give them offerings. They weren't asked to be the end of their twin flames. Well, how would they know? My father hadn't found his flame and my mother had already killed him. She told me it was for the best. She didn't tell me that if she were to remain married to the king and be the queen and rule, she would've to sacrifice her flame. And she did. How easy was it for her? Did she cry? Did she almost want to kill herself too?

With this, my story ends. I shall be dead when I turn twenty. My twin flame will also be dead. Maybe we can meet in the afterlife.

That sounded great for a novel. But I wasn't a writer, I was a wielder with enough time to go pursue something of interest. I'd leave the court of Elsyrian. I had six months. Six months was enough for me to start a brand-new life and end it the same way. At least I would die happily with no regrets that I couldn't live my dreams.

Or maybe I could find my twin flame.

The spark that came with that thought was cut short as I remembered another teaching—to feel the tug of a flame bond, one must be twenty years or more. What more a dreamer could wish for?

Everyone would move on, but I would stay here.

Why did it have to be me? Was I not worthy of having a twin flame?

Never once did I question the rituals of my kingdom. But they were pathetic. They were my doom. It would have been easier if I were born in some other kingdom or if I wasn't born a royal, but sometimes, under such circumstances of despair and hopelessness, one can only pray and maybe beg the stars above to take away the pain. What I would do to stop the tears from falling every time my life went south? 

I wept through the night. My eyes were now burdened with puffiness under them. I looked miserable.

It was around dawn that my eyes drooped and I fell asleep.

For the first time since eighteen, the dream didn't plague me.