Transgressions (Arshi Shorts)

Whispers of Amer - 4

🎶 Aadat - Bhanwaray; Nescafe Basement S5

Aman glanced at the hilt of his sword, where blood and sinew trailed down the length of the raised blade. It baffled him how his hand could remain so steady while the storm within his heart threatened to shatter the very foundation of his being.

He had just attacked the royal guards, defying the very laws and principles he had grown up withh - principles he had once vowed to uphold. His sacred oath to protect now lay shattered. With clenched teeth, he stared at the bodies strewn across the west wing courtyard, their still forms a grim testament to his rebellion.

He cast a quick glance back at the doors to the Princess's quarters - they had remained closed for far too long. A trickle of intense worry coursed through him, threatening to consume his composure. The Senapati would never have left him standing here for this long - unless something horrendously grave had transpired...

A shudder ran through his entire form, the unit soldier; Prithviraj stepped forward with a concerned look on his face. Aman growled and the latter fell back in his place.

"The word should've reached the King by now, the Dastanidar [King's guard] will be arriving soon. Swords at the ready!"

A loud groan shattered the silence, and Aman's head snapped around as the doors to the Rajkumari's quarters burst open. The darkness beyond was thick and foreboding, a silent harbinger of disaster. A faint ringing echoed in his ears as the Senapati staggered into the doorway, his form shadowed but unmistakably unsteady.

Her highness lay draped on Arnav's arms. Even from this distance, Aman knew what the chalky complexion entailed, he didn't need to see his theory confirmed by the presence of deep slashes on her wrists.

The princess of Amer was gone.

Arnav dropped to his knees as his unit stared in horror. His head tipped back, and a guttural howl tore from his throat, raw and primal, reverberating like thunder in the stillness. The veins in his neck strained, his anguish spilling out in a roar of rage, despair, and helplessness. His eyes, bloodshot and brimming with unshed tears, stared at the heavens as if challenging them to answer for this torment.

Aman's sword tip struck the sandstone at his feet, his arm frozen in defiance of his mind's desperate commands. The air was thick with silence, no one daring to speak, as if voicing the devastating truth would make it all the more real.

The commander sprang to his feet with such force that the onlookers flinched. Without a word, he strode forward, his hands tightening around the Rajkumari's form as if to shield her from the world. The unit followed closely, their eyes turning to Aman for further instructions.

Aman gestured for the soldiers to press on, his voice cutting through the chaos as he shouted orders to stay vigilant. Soon enough, the Dastanidar descended upon them like a pack of wolves, attacking from all sides. The unit fought back with brutal ferocity, carving a path through the enemies, allowing their commander to advance unhindered.

They had arrived at the Shivshakti temple, the Commander's soldiers had fought off the last remaining fleet of the Dastanidar. Aman's confusion soon turned to chagrin as he watched Arnav lay her highness at the threshold to the temple's entrance. The commander staggered back, undoing his armor and throwing his sword away.

"Send word to the King," Arnav's voice rang out, chilling and grave. "Tell him I have his only flesh and blood held hostage... and Aman - the vile creature mustn't learn the truth."

"Y-yes, but-"

"Now!"

Aman swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on the entrance as he jabbed a quick hand toward one of the new recruits. The recruit nodded sharply, a look of determination flashing across his face, before swiftly heading out through the gates.