“What I share now is not lightly spoken of, so I beg you, listen closely. Melancholy overpowers me at the thought of this tragedy, and the weight of giving voice to these events is such I can barely bring the words to my lips. Streams of tears may pour from my eyes like the blood in my veins, but you must not interrupt me.”
“Though you see me now, the ruin I have become is the end of this story. The beginning lies elsewhere, in the Seven Kingdoms of India. I am sure you know, as every man does, of Pharsidan, the sun-faced conqueror who ruled over six of these. He was respected for his wisdom and generosity but was also a fierce warrior who led legions into battle. His foes feared him no differently than peasants fear lions.”
“Yet, there existed a seventh Kingdom, where the mere word of their army struck terror in those who stood against them. My father, Sharidan, held this Kingship. Though fearsome, he made war with honor. He slew those who challenged him with skill and never resorted to deceitful or underhanded tactics. Because of this, he was well regarded, though none dared to insult him, openly or in secret. Everyone knew offending him was to invite utter destruction.”
“However, he lived freely, careless of Fate. Unlike many who keep the Lordship, he could often be found hunting boldly and making merry without worrying over foe or adversary. This caused his warriors to love and adore him. Yet for all his character, my father hated the solitude of leadership. Whenever he spent time alone, his heart filled with woe.”
“One day, he thought to himself, ‘I am King Sharidan, well seated in power, and unable to be beaten by any who challenge me. I have conquered everything near me and rule all the way to the frontiers, but I grow lonely and desire the company of an equal. Who better to spend my time with than Pharsidan? I will go to him, and together we will celebrate the might of our Kingdom.’ With his mind set, he sent an envoy with a message.”
“My father wrote a simple and direct letter, reading, ‘My King, India is yours, and it is with pleasure I make myself bold and clear to you. I wish to visit the palace and show the power of my heart! May you receive these tidings and know the glory of my faithful service remains with you!’”
“Pharsidan read my father’s message with happiness, and answered, ‘I who rule these lands give thanks to God for you, a man equal to myself and a Lord of India. Come to me with haste, and I will honor you like a brother and a parent.’”
“When my father arrived at Pharsidan’s palace, they celebrated like no two others in the history of our nation. They sported together and played games until late hours. In time they became the best of friends, and he gave my father another kingdom, appointing him as Amirbar.”
In India, the title also confers the role of Amirspasalari. This is a position of absolute power in all matters, except in the overlordship, which only the King holds. No higher honor exists, and I cannot justly compare anything else from another realm with it.”
“It is important I emphasize that my father earned this title through his deeds and not because of their friendship. In all things, Pharsidan considered him an equal. He often said no man in the world had an Amirbar such as he. They shared duty, honor, and respect between themselves. In quiet times, they hunted together. When war came, they descended on their enemies like a storm, relentlessly hammering their foes until they won peace.”
“Though great men, there was one sorrow they did not share, which burdened Pharsidan and his sun-like Queen. They had no child, whereas my father had me. Unfortunately, he was not a man familiar with children and was often absent with war and matters of court. My mother died giving birth to me, and though I had an endless stream of nursemaids, I did not know what it was to have a mother or a family. Nor was I aware then of the Kingdom or its problems.”
“However, as Amirbar, my father’s first duty was securing the country from threats, and this came before anything else. Even his son. The lack of an heir was causing unrest within the armies of India and emboldened border nations. Many worried over the lordship having no children. Seeing the distress of his men, as well as reports of enemies on the frontier, my father acted in a way only he could. To secure the nation, he presented me to the King and Queen as their own child. They rejoiced at having a son to raise, and it gave a measure of peace to us all.”
“Yet, I regret that day, for it brought me to where I am now. I am not the same as my father, as none are like me. You will learn this as I tell the story of what came to pass by my hand, but at that time, we were all joyous. My father gave me what he could not provide, and for my part, I learned what family meant.”
“Being raised by Pharsidan and his Queen, I wanted for nothing. They cherished and loved me as their own son and made me Lord of all the soldiers and countries. To hone my mind, they appointed scholars to instruct me in the behavior and carriage expected of a ruler. Generals and tacticians taught me the arts of war, and in time I grew wise and strong under their tutelage.”
“Asmath can confirm I speak truthfully, but at five years of age, people compared me to an opened rosebud. Fairer than the sun in beauty, I could slay a lion as easily as a sparrow. Pharsidan took such pride in my accomplishments, he forgot he had no son of his own. Those who looked at me said to themselves, ‘He is like a nursling of Eden.’ But now I am a pale shadow of my former self, though it pains me to recall.”
“One day, when I was still only five, the Queen learned she carried a child. When she gave birth, they made a huge celebration to announce the good news of their daughter. Lords and their hosts came from every corner of the Kingdom, and some from the farthest frontiers. They brought exotic gifts and loaded the arms of soldiers with treasures and presents.”
“My heart filled with joy. The King and Queen were as father and mother to me and would love us both equally as their children. When I first laid eyes on the new princess, she sparkled with light, like a star. Though the tongue I possess cannot give sufficient praise, I will tell you of her, despite the words consuming me with flame.”
He moved his lips to speak more but swooned with dizziness at the thought of mentioning the as-yet unspoken maiden’s name. He began to sob uncontrollably. Avtandil held him, his heart burned to soot by the pain his brother carried. Asmath sprinkled water on Tariel to bring him back from the abyss of his sorrow, her own cheeks streaked with tears. At last, he let out a shuddering sigh of agony.
“Truly I say to you, my world is lost. This is the day of my death. It comes upon me as I say her name. She is forever separated from me, and I am ruined by what can never be found.”