The next day arose, quiet and somber. An air of desolation enshrouded Urayur, the sounds of weeping and wailing found everywhere. The brilliant brightness of the Sun seemed to have diminished somehow in contrast to the previous days. The usual chirping of the birds was nowhere to be found. The breezy wind had died down. Even nature appeared to be mourning their loss.
Irungovel, oblivious to the suffering rampant outside the palace, frowned into the mirror. His barber stood trembling beside him in his chamber, a sharpened knife ready in his hand.
Irungovel scrutinized his face by angling the mirror in various positions. He huffed out in annoyance and shot his barber a frustrated look. "Do I look like the impending King?", he asked, pointing to his face. The barber quivered with fear. Irungovel paid him no heed. He placed his forefinger below his eyes and tugged. He looked dismayed. "I'm so hollow-eyed thanks to the utter lack of sleep last night!!" He shot the knife in the barber's hand a look filled with hatred. "In addition to that, I'm supposed to shave off my head and my beard!! I'm going to look ridiculous."
The barber stood silently, shaking like a leaf. Irungovel sighed, taking a long look at his face. He put the mirror down and turned to the barber, irritated. "Well? Has the auspicious moment that you have been waiting for arrived yet?" The barber opened his mouth. No sounds came out. Irungovel clenched his jaw. "What are you waiting for, you dimwit? Stop gaping like a fish out of the water and get to work!"
The barber instantly set to work. He shaved off his hair methodically, his movements precise. Engrossed in his job, he felt his fear dissipate. The usual calm settled in. Once done with his head, he moved on to his face.
Snip! Snip! Snip!
The barber took a step back, admiring his work. Satisfied with his job, he nodded to himself. He handed the mirror to Irungovel, relatively more confident.
Irungovel hesitantly took it, dreading what was to appear in it. The reflection before him showed himself devoid of hair, except for his well-oiled mustache.
He took a long look. "Can't say I look too bad, huh?"
Mara entered the chamber to check on Irungovel. As soon as Irungovel's eyes laid on Mara, he waved away his barber. The barber instantly left with a bow, trying not to look too relieved.
Mara took in Irungovel's appearance and stifled a laugh. He stiffened.
"Find something funny, boy?"
Mara instantly wiped the smile off his face. "Not at all, My Lord."
Irungovel nodded curtly before looking into the mirror again. He twirled his mustache. "At least I've got this."
Mara respectfully nodded. Irungovel stared into it for some more minutes before he threw it into the bed. "Oh, who am I kidding? I look hilarious. People will surely laugh at my appearance, for the hair is the pride of a man here."
Mara smiled and shook his head. "You are quite mistaken, My Lord. What difference would a little hair make? A funeral is to happen! It will grow back in no time at all." His eyes gleamed. "Besides, who would dare laugh at the King?"
Irungovel laughed. "I would say that you have the guts. You just did." Mara started to protest. Irungovel didn't notice, lost in thought. "But then again, I'm still the Senatipati. People wouldn't laugh only if it is the King." He winked. "I guess there is still time for that, after all."
Mara chuckled. "Ready to leave, Lord? Everything is prepared."
Irungovel nodded. They left his chamber together.
In the palace grounds, as per the custom, the deceased bodies of the King and Queen had been placed, washed in ghee, honey, milk, and curd. They were wrapped in a white cloth. Both their hands and their big toes had been tied with their nostrils and mouths covered. Sandalwood oil had been placed on top of their heads. Both were garlanded, lamps lit near them. Irungovel took one look at them and winced.
They had been washed alright. Or whatever had been left of their charred bodies.
Irungovel turned away from their almost unrecognizable bodies. He spotted the priest and addressed him. "Everything ready?"
The priest nodded. The chantings were momentarily paused. The wails of the citizens and that of Irumpitar Thalayar pierced the air. The Velir King of Azhundur bawled his eyes out, pleading his sister and her husband to "wake up".
Right. He was supposed to cry.
On command, water gushed out of his eyes. "ANNAAA!!!", he screamed, falling to the ground at the feet of Ilamchetchenni and hugging his legs tight. "How could you do this to me? How could you leave me here all alone? How will I possibly survive without you!!!", he wailed. "Take me away with you. TAKE ME ALSO AWAY!!!"
Ilanchezhiyan, who had been crying quietly in the corner, looked up. So did Alli, eyes flashing. Their eyes assessed Irungovel's sobbing form, narrowed.
Someone pried Irumpitar Thalayar and Irungovel gently away from the corpses. The Priest's voice rang out. "Call the Prince to do the last rites."
Alli froze.
Irungovel didn't move a muscle. Would he have reached the Azhundurvel beforehand?
Not finding the Prince, people began to panic. Guards were sent out to search for him.
They returned empty-handed.
Irungovel looked at Irumpitar Thalayar slyly. So, little Valavan hasn't reached yet. How could he? He must have been walking all the way and must have passed out in exhaustion somewhere. He stifled a smile. His secret was safe with him for the time being.
Irumpitar Thalayar looked appalled. "What do you mean he isn't here? He is supposed to be here! He... He..." His voice cracked.
Ilanchezhiyan was devastated. He mentally slapped himself. He should have gone after the Prince.
Alli, standing close by, didn't know what to do. On one hand, she desperately wanted to reveal what had transpired the previous night. On the other, she knew without a doubt that she couldn't reveal so without explaining his reason. Upon seeing the commotion escalating, she decided to open her mouth to make a clean breast of everything when she felt her father's hand grip hers tightly. She looked up at him. He shook his head subtly, his eyes warning hers.
Before Alli could argue, she saw Irungovel moving towards Irumpitar Thalayar. Her eyes didn't fail to notice the way he grew rigid the more Irungovel came closer.
Great. At least she wasn't alone.
Being close enough, she could clearly hear Irungovel say, "Listen. I think Valavan must have run away to someplace to avoid coming to terms with reality." He sighed, his eyes seemingly filled with pain. Alli gritted her teeth as he continued. "Who can blame him, really? His parents..." His voice trailed off. He cleared his throat delicately. "What I suggest is that we must go ahead with the funeral procession. Better not to let tongues wag, don't you think?"
Bastard.
Alli seethed with fury. By the looks of it, so did Irumpitar Thalayar. "But-"
The priest interrupted. "A thousand pardons, Your Majesty, but the Senatipati is right. With the King deceased, we cannot afford that."
Alli couldn't believe her ears. Surely, they would wait till he sees them one last time...?
Irumpitar Thalayar shut his eyes. He nodded wordlessly.
......................
Irungovel tried not to groan as they put down the bier. His shoulders ached. He tried to subtly roll his shoulders.
The men had finally arrived at the graveyard after carrying them, bare-chested and dressed in their usual attire of a silk shawl and a dhoti. It was all white as per custom, though.
The cremator had two funeral pyres prepared, ready for cremation. The sight of placing their bodies on the arranged logs and covering them with more firewood unhinged the Velir King of Azhundur. He sobbed uncontrollably. Ilanchezhiyan standing beside him was in a similar state.
For his part, Irungovel shed a decent amount of tears without arousing suspicion as well. Unaware by him, the Commander of Puhar as well as the two Velir Kings were trying to watch him subtly. Irungovel gave them no room for accusation as he played the aggrieved brother role flawlessly.
He didn't stop shedding tears when the Priest said that he had to light their pyres as the son was... unavailable at the moment.
He didn't stop shedding tears when the cremator gave him a handful of rice and some gold coins to be shown near the mouths of his dead brother and his wife, before handing them back to the cremator.
He didn't stop shedding tears when the cremator gave him a pot filled with water with a small hole in its bottom.
Neither did he stop shedding tears when circled the pyres with the pot on his shoulder and dropped it without looking behind on his last round.
Nor did he stop shedding tears when he finally lit the pyres with a burning log and threw it in.
However, when they all turned to return to the palace, Irungovel's sobs gradually ceased. As they all started the journey back, Irungovel alone lingered behind for a moment. He cast one last look at the burning pyres. At the billowing smoke. At the cremator who was to collect their ashes in a pot the next day.
In that instant, he didn't cry.
He smiled.
...............................
Valavan blinked his eyes open with some difficulty. For some reason, his eyelids seemed to have been stuck with each other. Bright sunlight pierced his eyes, blinding him for a moment. He felt himself getting annoyed.
Who had left the curtains this wide open in the morning?
He rolled over to his side in an attempt to shut out the offending light. Instead of the familiar softness of his pillow, his face was greeted with a hard surface.
Valavan jerked upright. His whole body ached. Where was he?
He looked around. He was sitting on the side of a road.
On the side of a road.
He wasn't in his chamber.
As if on cue, memories of the previous day flashed.
He couldn't breathe.
He willed his mind to turn into a blank with much difficulty.
A walk down memory lane was not what he wanted. Not when all it resulted was reminding him of his orphaned state.
Of the betrayal.
His chest hurt. He badly wanted to throw himself on someone and cry to his heart's content about the injustices of the world.
At the same time, he didn't want to do that.
To trust someone at this state.
To show weakness.
To show vulnerability.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and laughed bitterly. Not that there were a lot of people around to consider trusting them.
He had no one in this world. He was all alone.
He clenched his fist. No. He wasn't going to let naive thoughts like that control him anymore.
Him being naive was what had gotten him in this place. Had what gotten his parents in such a state.
His eyes hardened.
From this day, he promised himself, the old Valavan is dead. The old Valavan who was so gullible. Who belonged to royalty. Who didn't have a care in the world.
He was now a nobody.
A nobody who completely wants to leave the life he knew behind and run off to some faraway place waiting for death to claim him.
He got up slowly. His lips were parched. He let his tongue wet his lips before he winced.
The cut he got when he ran away and fell hurt. Ran away from the palace grounds. One thought rose, unbidden.
Alli.
He shook his head in an attempt to clear his head. His stomach rumbled. His throat ached from thirst.
He didn't care.
He squinted his eyes, trying to decipher his surroundings. He probably had reached the outskirts of Urayur before his legs must have given out and made him pass out from exhaustion.
He brushed the dirt off his hands. That's when he noticed the ornaments he was wearing. Disgusted, he plucked them off his body and threw them into the ground. Casting his eyes forward, he surveyed the road ahead.
He took a deep breath before he walked on.
...............................
Sigh.
Thoughts?
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