The waves outwards

Somewhere far away in the sehra, beyond the reasoning and approach of limited and ordinary creatures, lurked a lonely, stark black castle-like structure against the infinite white backdrop.

The structure had a long descending stairway of grainy black marble that contrasted sharply against the endless white plain. Upon the stairs, a figure shrouded in plain white cloaks was climbing, one step at a time.

Two menacing-looking horns of pure black material protruded from the sides of the structure and bent towards the figure. The sheer size of the entire structure was so enormous that the figure looked minuscule in front of it. There were thousands of stairs left until the figure would actually approach the structure, but it walked patiently, one step at a time.

After what felt like ages, it reached the front and simply phased through the enormous gate without opening it.

The entire structure looked exactly like the night sky from within, with thousands upon thousands of stars shimmering above and below. It extended to infinity. The figure kept walking, and after a few more hours, it reached a small canoe made of rusty wood, suspended in the middle of space, curving the stars below in small waves, upon it, a small teenage boy with deep lilac eyes sat, reading a book peacefully.

"Hello, Kehkashaan," the figure in white spoke.

"Oh hi, Roop," the young boy replied without looking up.

"They have sent me to tell you that Inaara died."

"I know," the boy said.

"What would you recommend us to do?" Roop stepped forward.

"Nothing," said the boy, apparently more focused on the book than the news of a dead sovereign.

"Are you sure?" she said, and bowed down instantly when the boy looked up from the book, directly at her.

"Understood," Roop turned away and walked out of the castle.

**********

The entire sehra was a celestial marvel, composed of four planetoids intricately joined together, each boasting its unique atmosphere. Bound by an unknown force, these planets spun in a mesmerizing way around a star akin to the sun.

The incident unfolded on the northernmost planet, Sehra-e-shomaal.

The origin of this celestial arrangement remained a mystery; none knew how such a complex pattern of heavenly bodies was possible. Speculations suggested it had to do with the powers of one of the sovereigns.

The news of Qatan's heroic last stand spread like wildfire to every corner of the sehra. Not every day a sovereign was killed. It was such a rare piece of news that, in the entire recorded history of the sehra, nothing like this had ever happened. Already, small rebellions had started happening at more than one place.

Each planet had the roots of occupation dug deep into its core and had an order of two sovereigns to rule over it.

And now the order was disturbed, meaning executioners were deployed everywhere in the occupied territories, Except a handful that resisted. Killing anyone at the spot who would even mention or speak of the incident. 

Qatan had appeared as a messiah to those who were oppressed. His sacrifice ignited courage and valor deep within the dead cold hearts. However, the flame of change was not easy to establish and the fire was already dimming.

Someone had to rise up amidst the opportunity and seize it.

*************

Aatish had been hanging around with Khadija and the rest of the team at the grove. Isra had been out cold for two days, but the medic bees had assured them she was doing fine.

During the two days Aatish spent in the grove, Gimpi had fed her four different kinds of honey soups, each completely different in taste from the others. Aatish was utterly impressed by him and couldn't stop praising him. That prompted him to go even more crazy with the soup. Today, he made a version that had small cherries in it that popped in your mouth when you ate them. Surprisingly, the cherries looked more like small round critters, but Gimpi was insistent they were cherries.

'No wonder bhaijaan chose to stay with the bees,' she thought.

Aatish felt cozy; she felt at home.

************

Khadija was standing infront a target with a bow in her hand, that was more than thirty metres away from her, A little dragon bird slept on her head and she had to be extra careful as not to wake it up.

She straightened her shoulders and knocked an arrow then pulled the string back, making sure to be extra smooth in her motions so the little zar-e-zameen wouldn't wake up. Her shoulder immediately ached, and she gritted her teeth but held it drawn. She closed her eyes.

and let it loose.

The arrow completely missed its target.

Laathi stood nearby and watched with his tiny stick arms crossed, he was put incharge of teaching her basics of archery but due to the miserable behavior of the girls, he had decided to switch to a more difficult lesson instead.

So what he was tiny with a comically adorable voice, Laathi was a master of all arms. From heavy axes to long swords, from bows to irregular weapons like scythes, he was a portable institute of combat and murder.

He picked up at a stone and threw it at khadija's forehead, it hit her temple and she grunted, her face turning red with anger. 

"Oh no, did it hurt?" Laathi said, his comically shrill voice trying to get on her nerves.

But she kept her composure and focus solely on the target, the purpose of today's training was not that Khadija could aim with her eyes closed and hit the target, it was to strain her to her limit and then a bit further and then teach her to remain focused still, to keep her calm even if a whole storm of emotions is bubbling within. 

Laathi had gone into extensive detail the day before on why a calm archer is a good archer, that you are bound to miss shots, get shot at, get wounded in battle. That does not mean emotions like defeat and rage should hinder the aim.

Khadija was dead tired, her muscles were sore and sweatdrops continuously dripped from her forehead. The strain of pulling the string back again and again had left deep red marks on her fingers. And laathi wasn't being any easy on her. 

But she understood the essence of it all. The training was to keep her muscles as still as possible while containing any unnecessary emotions. Deep down she appreciated her new master.