ā¤The Warrior And The Kingā¤
The temple was filled with sounds of chanting and music as the tinkling of footsteps got louder. Just as the Warrior finished the pooja, the steps came to a stop.Ā āVanathi, what brings you here?ā it was early in the morning so Athreya was suspicious on why Kundhavaiās friend was here. āAkka, I have been told to inform you that you have been summoned to the court room in Thanjai today evening.ā She stopped in her movements from applying kunkumam , she canāt leave Nandini to go to Thanjai. She took a deep breath, āDo you know why I have been summoned?ā she asked as she resumed her tasks, she can just take Nandini with her.
āI am not sure akka, I think itās about Nandini and the Elder Prince.ā Letting out a sigh of resignation she nodded in acceptance. She knew that something was going to happen.
āThanjai Palace 16 years ago, Aditha Karikalanās birth.
Loud screams filled the usually silence filled palace. The flames danced as the rain felt endless. The blood red moon made the Kingās heart thump, not knowing if this was a good sign. The shadows creeped around adding to the Kingās anxiousness. The screams got louder until they stopped, the few moments of silence felt like a millennia of torture to the Kingās heart, until cries of a small creature filled the air. The shadows that creeped disappeared in the Kingās perspective as a midwife approached him smiling until her face split.
āA Prince has risen.ā She answered the unspoken question. āAnd both the mother and child are healthy.ā Sundara Chola could finally breathe. Maybe the blood moon was an auspicious sign afterall.
As he rushed inside to his wife, his mind went through names for the prince, until it stopped on a thought, ālet the queen name him.ā He thought. The flame flickered shining on the Queenās already glowing face, her tired face filled with a beautiful smile. In her arms she held a bundle of cries. His beautiful son.
Names, politics, the throne and every other thought left his mind as he held his wife feeling blessed. He couldnāt ask for more.
The palace was unusually noisy as servants ran around, decorating the place with marigolds. The news of the birth of a Prince spread fast. The whole kingdom was engaged in rituals, prayers and hopes for a righteous and just prince, a brave warrior and a great King.
At the same time in an other part of the empire a 4 year old was looking for her lost mother. Her golden eyes terrified and teary. All she knew was that a man took her mother away. This was normal but it was the first time she didnāt return for a whole day. She probably was at the place with drunk men and loud shouting and the women with no clothes. Poor them she was glad she and her mother could got clothes from the men that took her away.
As she entered the brothel, some were startled at the entry of a child, some who knew her mother didnāt react much. She moved along a well known path where she knew her mother would be, normally crying or naked but sometimes she had a lot of money. As she entered the familiar room she saw her mother lying down, she was probably tired, she climbed up the bed to wake her.
āAmma, wake up I am hungry.ā The 4year old didnāt notice the blood. She didnāt notice the rigid muscles or the cold temperature. She didnāt notice the lack of breathing for a long time. She held on to her delusion for some more time until she burst out crying. She might be young but not young enough or naĆÆve enough to know what to do next. She took the money bag and the her motherās mangalsutra for her memory, it wasnāt gold afterall.
If she doesnāt leave one day she would also die a death like her mother, she knows because her mother told her. She knows she has to go far away or the men will take her too, afterall they donāt care about age.
The child ran through the forest with her meager belongings in cloth bag. She knew this had to happen, her dreams always came true. She also dreamt about a warrior whom she will save, she hopes that comes true it would mean that the men were not able to take her.
She moved towards what looked like light, she could her chanting and bells. Was that heaven? Did she die on the way? She couldnāt understand before she fell to the ground, unconscious.
After a grand feast to celebrate the birth of a prince, the palace was filled with laughter and cries of a child. The new parents were content before they were interrupted by a servant. ā Your Highness, the Priest wants to meet you, as soon as convenient.ā He panted.
With the same happy smile, feeling as if he can take over the world the King replied āWhy? Is everything alright?ā the servant was worried on what it meant for the royal family and the empire āA prophecy has been spoken.ā His heart dropped.
Golden eyes opened, surrounded by chanting and the smell of jasmine incense. As she sat up, she saw a glorious statue of Shiva being bathed in milk, ghee and flowers. āYou are awake child, are you well?ā asked a aged woman. āYes thaiye, I am but where am I?ā The woman hummed not answering her and checked her body for wounds. āYou, my dear are in Shivan Kovil at the border of Kadambur.ā
Before she could speak, her stomach grumbled āThaiye, may I have something to eat?ā the woman did not speak but instead left and soon came back with a plate of food. She ate with vigour of a wild animal. The plate was clean very fast āChild, I will not ask how you hot hurt but rest assured you donāt have to go back there. My name is maithili, what is yours?ā The child looked sad and answered āI do not have a name thaiye. Can u name me?ā The woman pitied the poor child and then thought āHow about Athreya?ā
A prince is born, a warrior has risen and a prophecy has been made.
Note: Thaiye means mother. Athreya was named by her Thaiye and not her Amma. Athreya name is actually a male name but I like the meaning very much so
Athreya -Ā Name Of A Sage; Clever; Receptacle Of Glory.
Her story is much more tragic than you would have imagined, tbh it was 3am motivation I actually had a plan of making her a lost princess but it's overused. @whippersnappersbookworm @sambaridli @thelekhikawrites @nspwriteups
















