I let the dream pass—after all, what is a dream for but to wake up?
That dream was nothing but a bubble—something that can be easily popped. After all, what I live in is worse. It was always worse.
It was always worse—wasn’t it?
I wonder if I’m even crying, looking out the window. I feel no tears. Maybe it all dried out. Maybe I never had it in the first place.
What about those I killed? Or were they murdered? I don’t really know after all.
Didn’t they also have a family? Did I just—
I hear an explosion and I feel the weight of it, disturbing me from this thought.
It seems that the countries near the mountains of this country, different from the one I stayed in, have started their attacks near this mountainside.
The driver calls out to me, “We have to pass through the regions Dalmatia and Moesia as we leave Ghorka!”
It seems we are in a nation called Ghorka—what do I know? I never even learned. And why am I being told this? I barely even knew Assam. How would I even know those bordering it?
How stupid of him not knowing—no, how stupid of me.
He still drives the carriage—scared, probably.
But he still needs to go through the war-torn road—after all, the Resting does not wait.
The emblem on the side of the carriage is probably big enough to be noticed as a chosen. A symbol to be respected and revered.
We travel and cross this road—as bumpy as it can be, due to the destruction I imagine.
It seems the explosions stopped after all—who is stupid enough to travel these roads?
I see people outside my right and left windows. It seems they know what this carriage represents. I leave the safety of my carriage. I let the driver speak for me as I gaze upon the clean faces of the messengers.
I hear them introduce themselves as officers in a broken language I know. I applaud them for even trying, but it seems the driver isn’t as stupid as I thought—he spoke a language more pitchy than the tonal one I know.
He spoke to them, and they spoke back with the same language it seems, but there was a difference in overall tone.
“It seems they will let us pass through, lady.”
I nod and return to the vehicle, waiting for the carriage to move and pass through all this chaos.
I sit and wait for him to start guiding the horse, we move. He speaks to me—the driver.
“It seems the commanders decided to let us pass, or else they’d get killed for it.”
“Are you talking to me, Arryav?”
I spoke to him without the respect usually given to those older.
“It seems you have a lot on your mind, and it seems that you seemed annoyed when you weren’t part of the conversation.”
“Did it seem that way?”
“Nobody would like to be left out of a conversation, even you.”
“Are you not scared of me—a killer—even an untouchable?”
“They did not notify me about that part, Mahodaya, but I grew up outside of Assam, specifically the country we passed, Ghorka—you see, I came from a merchant family.”
“I was chosen to be your guide by a friend—Aarav, whom you know, the uncle of the will-be king, who will pay me a lucrative fortune—enough for my whole family in three generations.”
“Pft—his name was Aarav? What a laughable name—peace—for someone who asked me to kill people.”
“Mahodaya, you see, his nephew was already facing his brothers for just existing. He already faced three poisonings. Once more and he will die. And for Vihaan, the only person he has is Aarav.”
“Though I don’t fault you for thinking of him as an ambitious fool. His sister died in childbirth, and Vihaan is the only family he has left after all. And his sister was basically kidnapped by the king for her looks.”
“Why are you telling me this—will that person not have your tongue after this?”
I seem even a bit impressed by how much he spoke.
“I know him too well for that to happen, Mahodaya. That person wouldn’t dirty his already bloody hands with innocent blood—after all, he hates the chaos.”
“He changed his life just to be able to protect his nephew—from farming to being a merchant. I met him while he was basically working his hands bloody from all the work he did.”
“Are you not scared of me? Even my position in the caste?”
“I follow the Panth, Mahodaya. We oppose the caste. Those who follow caste aren’t even real Sikhs. The founder said so.”
“Is that why you were chosen?“
“Seems so—Ah it seems there is a town in the horizon “
