It's been two years since Hamsi died. Sham is now living in Farran.
Weeks passed, memories of him and his father still linger in his mind. He now crashes at klewton's home - his long childhood friend. Life has somehow become sweet.
But sweet with no blood?
One night, all are asleep. Sham is not yet to the beddings. He stares at the moon. Thoughts running through him. Slowly, imagination draws him to his dreams. He is asleep.
'A humongous eagle flies across him, then stops and rests on his thighs. It's black wings are humongous. They kept on flapping and flapping. A dark version of the night sky was a sinister of smile and ebony. His lazy eyes witnessed, faintly.
"No one is going to cover you! No one will be on your guide now! Vengeance will rule!"'
The sound was dark. It was scary. He quickly arose. His being, paralysed. He looked around. Saw Klewton lying beside him. Heart beating reduced. A sigh of relief.
"Just a nightmare." he said.
Not a day passed without him wondering how he might reach the so-called city. Everyday, he kept on counting his little savings, wondering if the coins could buy him even a little bread.
His prayers finally answered. His savings are enough to take him to the city. He has to earn, he says. He's now thirty five years of age. A full grown man. No blood invested around. Rather knows nothing about his father's generation,
if, he has one.
Again, packs his bags, collects some coins Klewton had lent him. He uses it as transport money and sets off. He boarded a cart. It was the cheapest and easiest means of transportation.
Along the way, he could see variety of buildings all built in mesmerizing designs. Both the exterior and interior, perfectly blend in complexion.
After hours, he arrived at his destination. Rather it was the last stop.
He alighted.
Glares were all over him. Not curious ones, but wary. As though he carried something unseen. Confusion flickered across him, but he kept walking. Onto a middle-aged woman that was selling bread sticks.
"Welcome my son, would you like to buy some bread?"
"Uh, how much for one?"
"Just twenty four coins son. You don't seem familiar, you're not from around here, right?"
She said as she packed him the bread in a light polythene bag. Sham hesitated for a minute. Before he could answer, neighs alongside waves swooshed through his ears.
"Make way for the prince himself as he passes through. Bow down your heads for he is holy and mighty."
The crowd folded inward. Heads bowed. Breath stilled. Whatever walked past was not meant to be seen standing. All facing the ground, Sham raised his eyebrows in order to see. Three horses slowly passed. Two of them dark in complexion. The middle one, white.
Still bowing, he heard footsteps approaching. With a side eye, he keenly observed. 'Is he coming towards me?' he murmured.
The footsteps stopped. A nose-lip distance from Sham. Just then, a voice was heard.
"There's going to be a feast at the palace. All are welcome, the king commands." Then, they left.
People slowly began lifting their heads as they murmured. Sham was in confusion.
'So there's a ruler here? What kind of place is this.'
"Son, here." said the old lady. Handing him the loaf.
"What is this land called?"
"They call it the fronts. Magic thrives here. Beauty, elegance and craft too." her mouth curved slightly. "And consequences."
"And the man in white?"
She studied him sideways. One brow lifting.
"The prince. The ruler."
Sham's fingers tightened around the bread, when she asked where he was from. He said nothing. He tucked the loaf beneath his cloth and walked away.
The market roared behind him-barter, corruption, laughter, hunger.
Children darted through the crowds like loose coins.
By midday, the sun pressed against his skull. Hunger clawed. He ate in the corner, of a street he did not know. Night came and he slept there too.
The next morning, the city was preparing a feast. He followed the crowd. He did not know the way to the palace, but the city seemed eager to lead him.
Faces of every shade passed him, voices tangled in languages he never heard.
All his life he had known only one person - his father.
The world beyond him felt alive, and he felt terribly small within it.
The palace gates opened wide and every being was allowed inside. Sham stepped through with the others. Green surrounded them - too green.
Trimmed hedges, polished air, a cleanliness that felt rehearsed. Even the breeze moved carefully.
They entered the great hall, slowly.
The great hall was furnished. High ceilings lit, a nice chandelier hanging a meter from their heads. Raised windows, all in several rainbow colors, so bright they bled onto the floor. Beauty pressed from every corner.
Up above, the first floor, stood the royal family. All immaculately attired.
The king, the queen, the two princess.
Behind them. Servants stood. Heads bowed.
Sham and others, were guided to their seats. The place was clean. Even the floors, sparkled.
Silence breathed.
Then, the king began his speech.
"Shalom, my fellow fronts. We're gathered here today for it is a special day. We all know, my son, the prince just got engaged the past days."
Sham glanced at the two sons. 'So who's the engaged one?', he murmured.
There, he saw the man in white regalia. The one flanked by the two guards to the market the other day. Memory stirred.
Dalvor're smiled wider. He nodded confidently, radient. He was happy.
Beside him, his brother did not move. His eyes dulled under the lights. His mouth curved into something that resembled a smile, but arrived too late and left too early. It seemed borrowed.
'Is he okay.' he thought.
Then, the speech proceeded.
"In a few weeks, there is going to be a celebration. Music, food and unity. My son, Dalvor're will wed princess Buah."
Cheers rose.
Eliana smiled wider. She nodded, confidently and radient.
Applause erupted.
Everyone clapped, like they had known this for weeks - like this happiness had already been agreed upon.
Sham did not clap at first. His eyes stayed on Manon.
"Excuse me - "
A hand landed on his back. Not gentle, not cruel. Just firm-like it expected obedience. The skin was rough beneath Sham's palm, when he twisted away, warm and unfamiliar.
He turned.
A man stood behind him, cloaked in sagging that caught the light but gave nothing back. His face was pale, carved deep with lines that looked earned rather than aged.
"What is your name boy?"
Before Sham could answer, the grip tightened. His wrist was pulled-not violently but decisively.
The world shifted. The next moment, they were outside.
The palace doors looked behind them, sealed No one was around. The whole village was in the palace. The village lay empty. Every soul was inside.
"Your name is Sham, right?" the man said, "the son of Hamsi."
Sham's breath caught. "Uhh-"
"Your father sent letters," the man continued, as though silence were permission. You are the heir he spoke of. I suppose that's why you are here now. He is gone."
"Wait." Sham pulled back. Forcing space between them. "Who are you?"
The man's hands loosened. Something broke in his expression. Not anger - something quieter. His hands felt glassy as if holding too much. He looked straight into Sham, unblinking.
"Listen to me," he said softly. "You are in the wrong. And you have been wronged."
Sham stilled. "You must continue," the man went on. "It will be difficult. But the father's of your father will walk with you. They see every second of your life.
His voice dropped. "Do not loose hope."
The words struck like sharpened things. Too deliberate. Too precise. Sham searched the man's face trying to anchor himself -
'Move! Out of the way, boy! Move!'
The voice shattered the moment. Sham blinked. He was back inside the hall. Noise rushed in. Bodies pressed past him. The ceremony continued as if it had never paused.
He stepped aside, heart pounding.
'was I asleep?'
The question followed as he lifted his eyes and found the man, nowhere.
Evening folded itself away, and the people drifted back to their homes.
That night, Sham could not rest. The man from the hall lingered in his thoughts -too vivid to be dismissed, too precise to be comfort.
"Why did it feel so real?" He murmured into the dark. He remembered the man's damp skin. The heaviness of his breath. The way his eyes had stone, as if carrying a burden not meant for one lifetime.
"All of this is disturbing." Sham said softly.
The words did nothing to calm him.