by Rai Aren
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On the journey back to the Royal Palace, the Princess was quiet and reflective. Though young at the time, she clearly remembered the journey away from her home, in virtual exile, from her family, from everyone she knew and loved. In a way, it was happening again. Now, nine years later, she was coming back to the place where her life began. Memories from that time were painful for her. Not since that day, had she ever ventured south again. She was deeply saddened at leaving the humble home she had known, the parents she had grown to love very much, and a life she knew better than the one she left. A small part of her, the nervous, fearful and uncertain part, wished she could just stay and remain Panarra forever. She would find a way to make it up to her adoptive parents, if such a thing was even possible.
She watched the familiar scenery pass by as daylight began to die away. She had left in the night, and now she returned the same way. She knew of the accident involving the Pharom, the death and destruction that had ensued, and what had been done with it afterwards. Assan had told her everything. She knew she had lost her uncles Amoni and Alaj, and of Zazmaria’s betrayal that lead to her mother’s death. She also knew that she had been Zazmaria’s primary target. Anjia felt as though, in one way or another, she was always losing someone. It had been hard to leave Uta and Ehrim. Her peaceful life there was being traded for one of significant risk. She had sensed a growing danger.
She pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Instead she focused on every detail around her, the smell of the air, the sound of the river, the gentle movement of the carriage, and the rhythmic clapping of the horses’ hooves. She closed her eyes, picturing her family and the last time she had seen them. She knew the experience of the last few years would have been very different for them. They believed she was dead, while she always knew they were there and that someday she would see them again. She wondered how they took the news of her survival and impending return. Soon, she fell asleep, as mile after mile fell behind her, drawing her ever nearer to where her heart had always remained.
Odai and Senarra rode quietly. They were relieved to see the Princess sleeping peacefully in the back of the carriage, comfortably nestled on the cushioned seat. It was so very different from her first journey in the circumstances in which she returned, but similar in a way, as she was again bravely facing a future filled with uncertainties. They reflected on her maturity and strength the day she left, she had just lost her mother, and also in a way, her father and twin brother too, and she was taken in by strangers and left to start a new life under a new name, leaving behind all Royal ties, and everything and everyone she knew. She had talked little about revealing the truth of her Royal lineage to Uta and Ehrim over the years, but they could tell it had been difficult for her, to keep such secrets. Uta and Ehrim had barely spoken to them when they arrived. Odai and Senarra themselves did not know what to say to make their part in the deception any easier. They left again, knowing the enormous pain they were causing two good people, and the hole that would be left in their lives.
Finally, after many hours on the road, the carriage drew to within sight of the city. Princess Anjia instinctively awoke and peered out the window. The first thing she saw was the Amsara monument – still headless after the damage caused during the attack against her family. She audibly gasped.
Odai and Senarra heard her, and turned around.
“Amsara…” the young Princess whispered.
“Yes,” Senarra said, “it is a terrible tragedy what happened that day. So much destruction, so many lives lost. Our people have not yet had the resources to repair it, we still have so much else to focus on.”
“Remember, Princess,” Odai said, “the Royal Palace was destroyed as well. It has been rebuilt, but it looks much different from when you left. Seeing it for the first time may also come as a bit of a shock.”
“I know,” Anjia replied. “It is just so…so unreal to see it with my own eyes. I had remembered it so clearly.”
The trio once again fell quiet as they neared the capital. Anjia was deep in thought as she took in the sight of the city growing ever closer. She was incredibly eager to see her family again, but a deep sadness was also within her. She knew Mindara had married her father and become Queen. She was happy for them, she remembered how good and kind Mindara had always been to her family, but she still missed her own mother terribly. It would not be easy seeing her father with someone else and it would once again hammer home the loss of her mother.
As they rode on, Odai turned the carriage down a wide, tree-lined street. They had entered the city. Senarra’s heart beat fast in her chest. She knew the significance of this day. The Princess, long thought dead, was coming home to the Royal Family, which had changed so much since the accident. It would also be the first time, since the secret was revealed, that she and her husband would have to face the King and Prince Tramen, and atone for their role in taking Anjia away from them and living with that lie all of these years. Senarra did not know how she would be able to withstand it. She was grateful that she and Odai had not had to deliver the news to the King. Assan had faced that terrible task alone and taken full responsibility. Now, the long lie was over. Their lives would take whatever course the fates saw fit.
Anjia was alert, her eyes riveted on the road ahead, when finally a large structure came into view. She did not have to be told what it was. She knew it was the Palace. At last, at long last, she was home.
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Inside the Palace, word had come that the carriage had been spotted entering the city and was now only minutes away. Traeus got up. His family, assembled around him, also rose.
“Let us go to receive her,” he said. He nodded to the Commander who ordered his men to marshal at the Library doors and to escort the Royals as they departed. Traeus took Mindara’s hand on one side, as she held Alaj, and Tramen’s on the other. Tramen hung on to Setar’s hand.
As they walked the hallway to the front entrance, Traeus thought his heart would burst he was so overcome with emotion. Gone, for now, was all of his anger and bitterness at the forced separation and lies. All he cared about now was seeing his little girl again, holding her tight and telling her how much he loved her and how much he had missed her. Nothing else mattered.
The group gathered outside the large, ornately carved front doors to the Palace, the Royal guards assembled on either side of the Royal Family. The night was quiet and cool and the stars were out in full force. Traeus was pleased they had decided not to tell the Kierani people yet of his daughter’s return. He wanted this moment to be private. He did not want to share his daughter just yet.
They all waited breathlessly, each staring down the road. Time seemed to pass interminably slow. Then they heard the faint sound of horses, their hooves clacking on the ground. The sound grew nearer, and finally the carriage came into view.
Tramen broke free of his father’s hand and tore down the road to meet the carriage. “Anjia! Anjia!” he called out, waving his arms wildly.
She heard him and leaned over the side of the carriage. “Tramen!” she called back.
At the sound of her voice, her father broke down. Tears welled up and fell down his cheeks.
“Go to her,” Mindara said, squeezing his hand. “Go to your daughter.”
Traeus squeezed her hand back and without taking his eyes off the carriage, he also ran down the long lane.
Anjia spotted him. “Daddy!” she called out. Inside, she was still the little girl she once had been, her heart leapt at the sight of him. “Daddy!”
Traeus cried. “Anjia! My precious girl!”
Everyone was in tears at the sight before them – a family torn apart, now being reunited at long last.
Odai slowed the carriage down as father and son drew near, then he stopped it. He could no longer see through the tears in his eyes.
Senarra moved closer to her husband. �
�It is finally over,” she whispered to him.
He nodded and held her tight.
Anjia threw open the carriage door and raced out towards her family. “Daddy! Tramen!” she exclaimed. The three of them embraced.
“My heavens, my heavens, you are here!” Traeus exclaimed. He broke from the embrace to look at her more closely. He held her shoulders. He was utterly struck by her appearance. The five-year old girl he remembered was now a beautiful young woman. She had his emerald green eyes, but her mother’s delicate features, she was small-boned, with high cheekbones, and lovely light, golden skin. She wore her silky black hair long, pinned back from her face, just the way her mother used to. Traeus could scarcely believe the resemblance to Axiana, it was almost as if she was staring back at him through Anjia. “I cannot believe...” he wept. He was at a loss for words, as he again held her tight.
“I know, Daddy, I know,” she answered, feeling safe in his arms.
“I knew you were alive, I have always known,” her brother said, shaking with joy as true peace returned to his soul. He too found himself unprepared for her appearance. Though he knew she would look older, in his heart and his mind’s eye, she was still the little girl he used to play with. However, he sensed her spirit and their bond, which had never been broken, not by time, not by distance, and not by all the lies and secrets in the world.
“Oh, Tramen,” she said, taking hold of his hand, “I thought of you so often. I tried to get you to sense me, to comfort you and to not lose our connection, our bond.”
“I felt you, I have always sensed your presence,” he said, not wanting to take his eyes off her ever again. “I knew I would see you again someday.” He had instantly felt incredibly protective towards her. He would never let anyone take his sister from him again.
“You have certainly grown!” she said, smiling through her tears. “What are they feeding you here? I think we used to be about the same size.” Tramen was much taller and bigger than she. His jet-black hair was the same shoulder length as his father, though a little messy.
“This is going to take some getting used to,” Tramen said. They both laughed.
“You look so much like your mother,” Traeus said, beaming. He gently touched his daughter’s cheek. It all felt like a dream. His tears continued to fall. He was shaken by the resemblance and by her eyes, so full of depth and life, which were the same eye color and shape as his brothers had. He wished they were still alive to see this day, to see the lovely young woman she had grown into. Her uncles would have been so proud of her.
Anjia smiled, the same radiant smile her mother had, “Thank-you Daddy. That makes me happy to know that a part of her lives on in me.”
“She lives on in both of you,” Traeus said, looking to his son. Tramen had Axiana’s deep brown, gold-flecked eyes and the same slightly darker golden skin tone shared by the Selaren men. He held her again. It felt surreal. “My daughter,” he whispered, kissing her cheek, “I can scarcely believe you are home. I thought I lost you forever.”
Just then, Tramen remembered something. He pulled a pendant out from under his shirt. “This should go to you,” he said as he took it off his neck. He handed Anjia the ankh pendant and chain their father had given him after their mother’s death.
She took it, her eyes wide with recognition, “Mommy’s pendant,” she said. “I remember this.” She felt its warmth radiating into her hand. She tightened her hand around it, and squeezed her eyes shut. Tears welled up as Anjia clearly and vividly recalled the last day she had seen her mother, the day she had died, the day she lost her family.
Traeus felt a lump in his throat, as he too, remembered the awful day.
“I think wearing that pendant, helped me to maintain a special connection with you,” Tramen said. “I never once doubted you were alive. It was as though I could feel you, your life force, through it.”
Traeus nodded. “It is true. He always maintained you were not gone.”
Anjia smiled through her tears.
Her father took the pendant and chain and placed it around her neck. “This pendant has special properties. I had it created for your mother. Victarius poured his special skill into crafting it. There is no other like it.”
“I can feel its energy,” Anjia said, wonder evident in her voice. “It feels quite wonderful.”
“It was designed, through the metal’s unique nature, to enhance one’s own unique strengths and give clarity of mind,” Traeus said. “With you, I imagine it will manifest its energy in other ways as well.”
“Thank-you both,” she said as she embraced them. “I will wear it always.”
Chapter 10
Home
AT the Palace, the King had arranged for a huge celebratory feast, which had been prepared in honor of the Princess’ return. Before this, as a last minute change of plans, Anjia had spent some alone with her father and twin brother, and then was given some time to rest in her private room. Her father worried that a larger initial reunion might be overwhelming for her. She would see everyone else at the formal banquet. Now, brimming with anticipation, the rest of the Royal Family and members of the priesthood had gathered together in the spacious dining hall, anxiously awaiting her arrival.
The large, long, rectangular room had been festively decorated with colorful red and gold banners, the colors of the Royal Family, draped around the walls. Hanging from the light fixtures were delicate ornaments in the shapes of ankhs. Tables of fresh fruit, jugs of water, wine, and other assorted delicacies lined the length of the far wall, tended by formally attired staff. Musicians and dancers wove their way through the assembled guests, providing a cheerful ambience. Conversations were abuzz about their honored guest and her mysterious reappearance.
Commander Maraeven and the contingent of Royal Guards had also been invited to participate. Traeus wanted his family to get used to the increased proximity and presence of the soldiers.
Nervous, but accompanied by her father and Tramen, Princess Anjia, dressed resplendently in a stunning gold-colored dress once worn by her mother, and adorned with topaz and gold earrings, and her mother’s ankh pendant, made her appearance. She was now a beautiful young woman.
The attendees gasped when she entered the formal dining hall. The resemblance to her mother was undeniable. People stared, astonished. They clapped and cheered loudly as her father presented her.
To help break the ice, Mindara had brought one of the Princess’ favorite stuffed toys along as a welcoming gift. Anjia had played with it as a small girl. It was something else to remind her of the life she had once lived here, as a carefree and happy child. Mindara had told little Alaj that he could give it to his new sister. Though he had initially wanted to keep it for himself, Mindara had managed to convince the two-year old that it would be an especially important thing to do to welcome Anjia to their home, and now he was brimming with excitement. Anjia immediately adored little Alaj and was deeply moved when he “officially” presented her with the stuffed lion cub, the most common and popular toy amongst Kierani children. He had looked at her with an expression of awe. To him, she looked like something straight out of a fairytale.
Mindara had been relieved that the initial moments between her and Anjia had not been overly awkward. When Anjia left, she was but her mother’s handmaiden and the children’s caregiver, now she would function as her stepmother. Anjia had simply embraced her and told her she had missed her. There would be plenty of time for the two to talk later.
Setar had blushed when introduced to his new sister. Anjia looked at him for a long moment, sensing something…unusual about him. Unable to place what it was exactly, she gave him a big hug and told him how proud and happy she was to have another brother to love and boss around. Setar giggled and immediately felt at ease.
When Odai and Senarra brought their five-year old son, Auraelion, over to meet the Princess,
he was very excited. His hair, which fell past his shoulders, was pulled back into a tight braid, just like his parents. It was a customary style for all members of the priesthood, except for the Head Priest. He wanted to be just like his mom and dad.
