Chapter 101 - Jora

chapter is coming soon

Just a few miles away from Minaak, beyond the nine-story tower of the spirit shrine, there was a lake called Prem Sarovar.  Surrounded by the colorful spirit maple trees and all sorts of flowers, so fragrant that passerby couldn't help but attract towards the little orchard,  the place was the Mana-Sarovar ( the lake of water nymphs) of Minaak. 

Ayaan, the late lord of Garuna, used to come here with his gorgeous queen, Manavi. After taking bath in the crystal-clear water of the lake, Manavi would sit beside the lake with her exquisite feet playing with the water, and Lord Ayaan would make braids of waist-long hair, interlocking freshly plucked flowers in them. 

They would sit there embracing each other for hours. 

After the death of Ayaan and Manavi, Oman had incremated them together according to the Old Ways on the bank of the lake.   

Oman had invited the best sculptor from Vaishali to make the statues of the departed lovers. 

Though the two statues had cost him a great fortune, he never regretted it. 

The reason was simple the idols had mended his shattered heart somewhat. He had built a shrine beside the Prem Sarovar and placed the two life-like statues in it. 

The two sculptures were of six-star and could be heard laughing and talking to each other just like a living couple. 

Oman had built a fence around the scenic lake and appointed keepers to take care of the places. The place had become a sort of a holy sanctum of young lovers. Youths, commoners and spirit wielders alike, visited the place to make wishes for thier happy love lives. 

Today, a strange pair entered Prem Sarovar.  The pair consisted of a young man and an old man, who must have been in his sixties. 

"Oman has really taken good care of the place," The old man said, his sharp eyes enjoying the beauty around him. 

"What's the point in taking care of idols," The young man said. His arm guards were a symbol of him being an archer. From his accent and golden skin tone, his Sursenian ethnicity was apparent as day. 

"Haha, ask who? a young man who has traveled all the way from Sursena to Minaak just to see these idols. " The old man  chuckled, "Can you sound more hypocritic?" 

"No, I came here to see what my aunt had seen in Lord Ayaan that she had garlanded him of all the lords present in her svayamvara." The young man said as he strolled towards the white shrine built according to Nagra style. ( the temple construction style of North India).  A couple of maids were tending flowers, humming a melancholic melody. The young man couldn't help but halted in his steps and listened to the song, filled with loneliness, 

???? || O Love, forgetting you, what I should sing? 

Voice, which you dwell in,

how can I scatter that sound in these specks of dust?

Anyway, my desires cannot come out of the words' half-open doors;

My longings tire out of walking on the short path of exhalations.

Tell me how can I call you by dream signs! ????

????|| In a gust of  scanted morning breeze,

Night has been swept away, stars have drowned;

Alas! Even after drowning in the river of tears again and again,

these star-like eyes of mine never die.

Tell me how can I awaken you in these long hours of grief,

so that I too can enjoy this life? ????

"Ah! this song!" sighed the old man, whose hair was the tuft of the fluffy clouds. 

"What's wrong with the song?  " the young man asked as he started walking again. 

"Nothing. I heard this song, long ago, in Osian, the city of sand dunes. " The old man said, adjusting his long ropes. 

"You mean during your escape from Jitor." The young man asked. 

"Yes, from a ghost of some heartbroken maiden. " the old man replied.

"Hey! young sir, please leave your shoes out." one of the maids stopped the young man, who was about to step on the marble stair. 

"Oh! Sorry," the young man said and took off his shoes. 

The old man didn't follow his companion in the shrine. He sat down on the marble stair. His dusty clothes were suggesting that the man had traveled a long journey by foot. However, there was no sign of weariness on his glowing wrinkled face. After giving a glance at his surrounding, he closed his silvery eyes as if to take a nap. 

****

Inside of the shrine, the young man froze in his track as his eyes fell on the couple, standing on the dais, holding each other hands. 

The woman was the goddess of beauty, and the man was the lion of among warriors. They were looking into each other eyes, blushing like foolhardy lovers. 

The young man seemed mesmerized by the exquisite beauty.  It took him a while to break the spell. He walked over to the two idols. and after a light bow, he placed the flowers he had purchased from a florist before coming here, in the couple's feet. 

A light giggle resounded in the silent chamber, startling the young man. He hurriedly looked around; there was no one. 

The peal of a light chuckle came again. This time young man looked at the life-like statues. Sure enough, the voice was coming from them. 

The young man kept standing motionless, staring at the man's idol. 

"He really was handsome," after a long pause, the young man mumbled and walked out of the shrine, wiping away his tears. 

***

"let's go Lemora,  it's already evening. Hope we get a good inn this time. I needed a bath." The young man said to the napping man. 

"Ah! what were doing in for so long? " Lemora asked, getting up. 

"Nothing." 

"So, what do you think of your aunt's choice?"

"Nothing."

"Don't you know another word?" Lemora asked as they walked out of Prem Sarovar. 

The young man was none other than the renowned princess of Sursena, Urvi in disguise. And the old man was her mentor, Lemora. 

They had traveled thousands of miles to get here in Minaak. Urvi was planning to participate in the competition, not because she wanted to join an academy, but she wanted to hone her skills. 

Another reason for her visit was these two idols. Since childhood, she had heard of her aunt. The princess, who had chosen a Samant over the crown prince. 

They said Aslan also liked her and thus asked for her hand.  But Sursena never forced their daughters to wed. Hence, like usual a swayamvar was organized. All the lords were invited included Aslan. 

However, Manavi, the most beautiful woman of her time, was asked to choose her husband. They said she hadn't even spared a glance to Aslan and others. She came into the wedding hall, her enchanting eyes fixed on the lord of Minaak, Ayana.   

Before the jealous eyes, she chose him. 

What was the reason for her choice had never come to light? Though many speculations were made like they had already known each other and were in love. But it was not true, for Lord Ayana had never seen Manavi before. 

It was their first meeting. 

Tanvi always wanted to find the reason for her aunt's strange decision. But even after coming to Minaak, and visiting the shrine, she couldn't get the answer. 

Of course, Lord Ayana was handsome, but so were Aslan and others. She refused to believe her aunt had chosen Ayana for his look. 

Urvi shook her head and sighed. It seemed she had to leave without the answer. 

"So, we are not going to the castle," Lemora asked  again, 

"No, we cannot. Dad doesn't want me to visit Oman. " Urvi replied, 

"I really can't make out why Lord Senjit is angry with Oman. As far as I know, Oman never wanted to be a lord. " Lemora said as they stepped on the road leading to Minaak. 

"He must have his reasons. " Urvi said. "let's hasten our pace if we don't want to spend the night outside of the city. "

So they paced up. 

In the west, the sun was bidding goodbye, when they got to the city gate.  They assimilated into the large crowd as they entered the city. 

They were looking for someone to ask about the inn, when a Nimoi, smeared all in ashe, came from nowhere and prostrated himself before baffled Urvi. 

"Hail to the Queen of the realm, the mother of all beings," he said, and before Urvi could say something to the man he got up and disappeared in the crowd. 

"What the hell was it? " Lemora asked, his searching for the vagabond. However, the man seemed to vanish in the air. 

"Is he lunatic or something? " Urvi asked, 

"Can't say anything? For me all Nimois are lunatics. But it was unprecedented. Let's go, you will never understand the uncanny ways of these vagabonds.  " Lemora said.

After asking a vendor, they entered into a side alley where the most expensive inn was.. In this very inn  was sitting the two men of Vasu.