The war was a life-threatening event. It had been almost three days since Afshin was first drafted. All he could think about when he was drafted was Parisa. All he could bear himself to think about was how heartbroken she would be. He was in love with her and so was she. An ever-connecting love that lasted longer than time itself. But here he was at the half line between the front line and the backups. He was dressed in a neat military outfit, ready to join the war knowing he wasn't going to survive. No one ever survived. There was no way he could escape this position besides running away and that too was impossible, because then they would find Parisa and torture her instead of Afshin.
"Afshin Dehghan?" the officer asked in a serious tone, holding a letter in his dirt-covered hands, "This is yours," he said, handing Afshin the plain white letter. Afshin nodded as a thank you before opening the letter. His eyes fell on the first words noticing Parisa's handwriting. She always had the most beautiful Farsi writing, unlike Afshin who had the most crooked letters. As he scanned the words on the page, he felt his vision darken and darken. His head began to spin endlessly.
Parisa was gone. She had volunteered to marry that cursed man. Shah Arman. The man who murdered women for fun. The man who had most definitely murdered Parisa by now. Tears began to well up in his eyes making every work written on the paper blur up. Afshin could feel his legs shake anxiously. Parisa was gone and she was never coming back. He quickly scanned the last few words on the letter.
So, move on from me. Escape and live the life you deserve. And don't wait for me.
She had wanted him to escape from this war. To desert his position and live a life without her. He couldn't bring himself to even imagine the pain she had felt when that monster had killed her. All he could wish for right now was that she was somehow magically alive and well. But he was going to murder that monster and he was going to seek revenge. Whilst Afshin sat on the bench beside his tent, he looked up to see his friend Emir walking towards him. Emir wasn't fully fluent in Farsi, but he understood it well enough to interact with Afshin.
"Guess what I heard today," he said without looking at Afshin who was still crying silently, "Apparently this woman has married the Shah voluntarily and surprisingly she has survived even after dawn. Maybe the Shah has finally found love," he added suddenly noticing Afshin's face. Afshin suddenly felt a spark inside him. Miraculously, Parisa was somehow alive.
"God thank you," Afshin silently whispered to the sky.
"Why are you crying?" Emir asked Afshin whose face had lit up immediately from the news.
"I need to escape Emir. I need to escape tonight," Afshin immediately responded. But it wasn't the kind of response Emir wanted.
"Hold on a minute, what?" Emir asked in a high-pitched voice with confusion, "Brother you can't just run away. Have you hit your head somewhere?" he asked once more.
"No, I will explain later but help me escape tonight. Please," Afshin pleaded and out of the kindness in Emir's heart he agreed. Their plan was foolishly horrible yet surprisingly effective.
"If you are escaping, I'm coming with you," Emir informed Afshin. At first, Afshin gave him a hesitant look but a few moments later he accepted defeat and allowed Emir to come. The two boys were going to escape just like Parisa had asked them to. Now that Parisa was alive, Afshin was going to do whatever it took to free her and kill the Shah forever. Whatever it took. Even if love was involved.
✸
Parisa stormed off to her bedroom chambers to cool herself down. He was in no position to order her around. She was a woman of her own and she did not allow herself to receive orders from a boy-king. Shortly after, Azin rushed into the room after her. She stopped hesitantly to take a glance at Parisa who seemed awfully frustrated.
"My lady⏤," she called out to her.
"Who does he think he is? I walked into this life as a choice of my own, he has no right to order me around like I am some sort of toy to him. Especially in front of an annoying man like Jalal. God, he is disgustingly gross that Jalal," Parisa yelled frustrated.
"That I agree with, he truly makes me uncomfortable," Azin pointed out mindlessly. Her honestly made Parisa calm down a little with a smile. "You know, you are truly the first and only woman to speak to the Shah like that. Well besides his grandmother," Azin informed her suddenly realising something. Her eyes widened in shock.
"What? What is it Azin?" Parisa asked curiously.
"Oh, dear Allah, his grandmother must want to meet you. And his sister holy god I am such an idiot," she pointed out. This was the first time Parisa had heard such a thing. She had no idea that Arman had another female in his life. His younger sister she knew about but his grandmother she had no idea about. She wondered why he had kept her a secret. Azin hurriedly grabbed Parisa's arm dragging her down the hall to a small corner room. She knocked on the door as the huge doors were pushed back. They both stood at the front of the door giving a small bow in respect.
In the centre of the room sat an old and beautiful woman. She had the prettiest grey eyes, the same shade as Arman. Her white her tied up around her head, decorated with pearls. When she noticed Parisa, her hand moved across her face onto her mouth. She then took her hand off, mouthing three words: Oh, my dear.
"I cannot believe it," she said in a shaky voice, "You are my sons' beautiful wife. What a beauty you are my dear," she complimented Parisa. Parisa could not help but smile. It was the first motherly compliment she had received after leaving her home. It made her feel at home. The woman sitting in front of her was so pure and beautiful, Parisa felt dark beside her.
"Thank you, my lady," Parisa addressed her.
"Oh please, call me Aziz Banu my dear girl," she requested, "come sit here with me, I am sure Darya will be so happy to see a woman as beautiful as you standing beside her brother. She rarely has any interaction with other women besides me," she explained with bitter sadness. Darya was Arman's little sister. The pure girl was known to be extremely beautiful.
"I would be pleased to meet her," Parisa answered honestly.
"I will call her to come my dear. Your wish is my command," Aziz Banu replied as she called over one of the guards. She then slowly told him to bring Banu Darya over. And so, without the wait, he raced out of the room to find Darya. "How is my grandson?" she asked Parisa.
"I believe he is fine. Although he is quite awful in terms of his personality," she answered with a sharp brutal honestly. Aziz Banu, however, wasn't shocked to hear this at all. It was as if she was used to hearing such things. She looked at her feet with a silent sadness in her voice. Parisa could tell she cared dearly for Arman. She was probably the only person who cared for that monster. That soulless human. It was the first time Parisa had thought of him as a human. And the only time.
"I know why you volunteered my dear girl," she confessed. Parisa suddenly looked up at Aziz Banu who had a gentle smile with a frown on her face. "But please, I beg you don't do it," she pleaded.
"I'm not sure what you are talking about," Parisa lied.
"Don't be like every person in his life. Don't break him like everyone who has stepped into his. My grandson was never like this. He was kind and sweet. Instead, save him from the eternal darkness he has forced upon himself. I am the only person who knows his mind like water. I am the only one who knows the things he's gone through, so please I beg you, my dear girl, don't do it. Save him for me," she begged and begged Parisa. Something about her words seemed honest. But Parisa couldn't bring herself to believe them. She couldn't allow herself to feel for him. She couldn't allow herself to think of him as human. She couldn't allow herself to create an excuse for all the deaths he had caused, whether it was intentional or unintentional. She just couldn't do it and Aziz Banu could see the dilemma in her eyes.
"Allow yourself to learn about him first. Then make your judgement," she stated with a smile. That statement, Parisa knew the answer to. She agreed to learn about him by nodding. Even though her brain screamed and warned her about the monster he was, her heart wanted to know more about him. Knowledge requires more knowledge.
Breaking their train of thoughts, a young girl rushed into the room hugging Parisa from behind. She looked much younger than Parisa. She seemed almost fifteen or even sixteen. She wore a beautiful purple dress, decorated with gold embroidery.
"I am so glad you survived," the girl squealed. Aziz Banu let out a burst of joyful laughter and Parisa laughed with her.
"I take it that you are Darya?" Parisa askedeven though she was aware of the answer. Darya nodded with a huge smile on herface. She too had the same grey eyes, but she was on another level of beauty.She was the kind of beauty that all girls wished to be. She clapped her handsin excitement which made Parisa think about how lonely Darya must've been inthis Palace. But now she finally had someone to talk to and Parisa was going tobe that person for her. A saviour in dark times. A blessing