[Social/Jahan/Vava]Twilight over a Thousand Swords

The subtly rays of angelic light shone over the horizon giving a lucid air to the radiance of the sky. A cold chill of the night blew past Jahans Ears, causing him to pull a purple blanket over his head to shield him from the contrasting cold of the wind. The boy was wrapped up tight in a few fine garments and quilts. Jahan peered at the horizon, it was one of those nights, the pattering of the rain felt soft, and like a chorus nature had harmonized with the awful chill of the cold; and the tranquility of the atmosphere.

Yes it was one of those nights, where there hadn't been the sound or sight of even an animal in the midst of the brush. Yes it was one of those nights, where the crackling of the foreign fire above the shanty remains of a broken tower would keep a man warm. Yes it was one of those nights, a night where Jahan would lay on the edge of a rooftop, gazing out into the rainy, starry night from a man sized hole. Debri and thatched roofing scattered among the inner dwelling of the fallen tower, the silhouette of the  fallen tower standing boldly in the middle of the field where nothing but the dead, and the tools of a dead man remain, was stark-ingly akin to a gravestone.

Jahan rocked his legs, taking a moment to enjoy a sip of Jasmine Tea. Thoughts about this world and his role in it flooded his mind which was usually a barren dessert to prior contemplation. Things had changed he supposed, his existence wasn't as simple and not as perplexed as he would like it. Jahan shook his head.

"I guess its just one of those nights."

Vavantine had heard about the old battles in Reim from her uncle in letters, but he had only heard from stories and never went to the scene where it happened. According to what she read, there was a war between Heliohapt, a desert country that supposedly thrived on slavery, and Reim, a country sitting in the middle of all the others, which cost the lives of many. The soldiers from both sides fell in an area now referred to as the Battle of a Thousand Swords in The Western Front. Those that perished never received a proper burial and their corpses were left scattered along with scrap metal. Because 60 years had gone by since the devastating war, the corpses were nothing but withered skeletal remains, and it was out of respect for those warriors, the brave men that fought so hard for their individual countries, that Vavantine went to the Battle of a Thousand Swords despite the darkened sky that cried tears upon the earth below.

Only when she arrived did she weep, the salty moisture mingling with the freshwater of the heavens; Vavantine couldn’t believe the scene that spread out in front her bright, light blue eyes that was obscured by her mask. Would she too be like one of these long forgotten remains? Left at the mercy of the elements until nothing remained to show she even existed? Such thoughts were bleak even for the Imuchakk as she looked up at the sky, silently praying not be like these unfortunate souls. Of course if Fate led her to such a demise, then Vavantine…

The rain fell relentlessly and forced the young girl to run for cover. She found refuge in a towering structure that marked the battlefield like a memorial for a grave. There she would be protected from the rain, but not from the eyes of other people. Before her, sitting on the edge was a man around her age. She felt inclined to leave this man in peace but had nowhere else to go. With her drenched uniform, dripping blue hair, and chilled body, Vavantine remained motionless and silent while looking upon this stranger.

Play in Background.:

Jahan heard the sound of faint footsteps under the chorus of rain drops. His mind flickered to the thought of the approaching figure, Jahan closed his eyes as the girl would enter the shadowy doorway, opening them for a moment to gaze into the storm, Jahan glanced at Vavantine's shadowy Figure for a moment before carelessly looking back at into the rain.

"Well aren't you gonna have a seat?" Jahan spoke without turning his head.

The feeling of serendipity rolled through the room, a quiet almost somber sort of feeling, but the chance meeting certainly wasn't an unwelcome one. He simply wanted to relish in the shower of peace, the calm before the storm. Jahan would roll his head towards Vavantine and while giving a small calm smile, he spoke rather open to her.

"I'm Jahanghir Nikator, a wandering emperor."

The flames of the fire burning from the dusty fireplace built into the watch towers walls licked and crackled against the pitch black crown Jahan wore on his head. He felt as if he had the right to the crown, that he was a king if not of anything else himself. Jahan offered Vavantine no more words, allowing her to do as she would please, rather that be to come into the radiance and warmth of the crackling fire, or to escape into to heart of the heavy rain shower.

Finally broken from her statue-like stance, Vavantine strode to the young man’s side and sat next to him. The rain, which felt from the heavens, cascaded down in sheets to provide the battleground with curtains of endless water. The sound was soothing as much as it was unfamiliar to the Imuchakk’s ears. So this is rain, she thought to herself with her eyes closed.

Pitter-patter. Pitter-patter.

The scent of wet soil wafted into her nostrils with every breath she drew in. Tranquil sounds soothed her turmoiled soul. “Is rain always this nice? The sound it makes when hitting the earth… it’s music to my ears even though I have never heard a droplet in my entire life before now.”

The crackling of the nearby fire was also comforting; it brought back fond memories of home. The smell was delicious, almost mouthwatering since she imaged a fresh kill roasting over the starved sputtering flames. There were certains things that reminded Vavantine of Imuchakk, but most of what she had experienced was new and mysterious. When the man introduced himself, she faced him.

“My name is Vavantine, a warrior with no place to call home,” she said with an outstretched hand that was intended for a handshake. "It's a please to meet you, Jahanghir."

The Imuchakk looked back back out into the rain. “I hope I don’t end up like all of them,” she whispered softly, voicing her earlier concerns. “It seems like a terrible way to die: your body left behind without even the honor of a proper burial.”

The imuchakk girl took a seat next to Jahan, she wore a strange sort of mask which at first sprouted up many questions in the boys head. However, Jahan would refrain from asking anything of the such to the stranger, content with the small bit of company that he received. The pattering of the rain against the cobblestone and bricks would contrast with the high tempo sound of the rain bouncing from the rusted swords.

“Is rain always this nice? The sound it makes when hitting the earth… it’s music to my ears even though I have never heard a droplet in my entire life before now.” she asked

Jahan smiled and closed his eyes, the question was peculiar in a way that brought a sort of sweet naivety and innocence to the air.

"Sometimes, sometimes the sky roars and flashes, it's quite the spectacle if you haven't seen. I'll take it your not from around here?"

The girl would introduce herself to Jahan, and he took her hand for a moment to accept her shake. After the girl turned her head and Jahan slouched back into his routine laid back position with his hands crossed behind his head, his legs propped up vertically against the wall of the tower's hole.

“I hope I don’t end up like all of them,” she whispered softly, voicing her earlier concerns. “It seems like a terrible way to die: your body left behind without even the honor of a proper burial.”

Jahan's eyes shot open, then they narrowed.

"How interesting" he said not really knowing what to be said about something like that, Jahan wasn't the type to contemplate things for too long, though he was finding himself doing it more than often as the days passed. He looked at Vavantine.

"I think we probably all will."

Vavantine shook her head. “No. I am─or at least was─ from Imuchakk, home to the giants I guess some would say. There is only snow, ice, and giant pine trees. I’ve never left Imuchakk before…”

The Imuchakk fiddled with her hair as she watched the rain fall. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw him relax. She took note of the crown atop his head and his body language before speaking again. “Unfortunate… But I suppose there is no point in dreading over such matters now when we are alive.”

Vavantine looked at Jahan. She had so many questions, and being the curious girl that she was, she couldn’t just not ask anything. “So, how are you a wandering emperor?”

“So, how are you a wandering emperor?”

The question resonated for a moment with Jahan, throwing his mind into a state of wonderful yet shallow contemplation. Though he knew the answer to the question he didn't know how to say it.
Jahan paused for a moment, the fire crackled sending a kindling sound resonating through the tower.

"This crown", Jahan pointed to his head. "From the trials and obstacles conquered, I have the title "King"


The sound of rain began to audibly rise, tapping melodiously in tune with the crackling of the fire. Jahan had began to come to a realization, that his own views of the world around him forged his reality. His small spark of existentialist drabble clashed ferociously against his free willed and carefree nature.

"No, thats not just it...." Jahan's broke off into his sentence, not sure exactly what to say.

"It's like the flight of a butterfly, or the act of breathing, or the churning of your stomach when you've had to much to eat..."

Jahan turned his head to Vavantine and smiled gently, it was sincere and humble to which the very movements; they would draw your eyes causing them to dance over the sway of his hair. It was the kind of gesture that would drop the guard of even the most seasoned assassin.

"Well that's not something I have to think on too much."

Seeing Jahan’s gentleness made Vavantine relax a bit more. She returned his smile with her own and to turned to face the battlefield again. Her hand hovered over her mask as she silently thought to herself. “I see… Trials and obstacles…”

The Imuchakk had not been through such things, or perhaps she had barely been through them for it to really count for something. Her childhood had been a pleasant experience, and it was only recently that she had been troubled with not belonging anywhere due to being cast out by her family. “I still have a lot to learn and see outside of my birthplace… I need to understand so much… and regain my place within my family and its templar.”

Jahan had found the womans answer to be particularly curious. His eyes narrowed and then the thunder began roaring in a low tone.

"You can do a lot of things but you cant simply lose your place within your family. It is beyond flesh and blood that connects people."

Jahan may not have been a genius or the type of person that considered himself wise or highly intelligent, however his emotional iq was high. He understood through all of the dealings in life how people operated. People could be complex mechanisms but their motivations and emotions were usually simple. What men or woman may desire and feel inside their hearts is woefully relatable to all humans.

"Do they love you?" Jahan asked rather boldly. "If they love you then Im confident they are still waiting for your return. Regardless of what may have happened" he didnt want to press to deeply into the womans personal issues as it was none of his business. Yet in still there was something to the air that made him feel like wearing his heart on his sleeve, so at this point he would bare some vulnerability to the woman. Jahan grabbed a peice of dry wood and ripped it from the hole surrounding him and tossed it into the fire he had lit within the stone fortress. The fire erupted into a blaze of flames to his delight and he smiled enjoying his warmth.

Vavatine’s blue eyes stared at Jahan, her irises sparkling from the light of the fire and curiosity mingled with what she could only describe as respect. She tilted her head in contemplation. “Beyond flesh and blood?” Her eyes directed themselves back toward the graveyard that spread before them. “I suppose I didn’t think about that. That probably would never have crossed my mind if I hadn’t talked with you.”

The young Imuchakk warrior sat there listening to the crackling of fire as it devoured wood and the tender droplets of rain that the earth. She would have sat there in silence, thinking about what to say and the words the wandering emperor spoke, but the stranger asked a bold question out of the blue. Taken aback, Vavatine was speechless. She stared through her mask for a few minutes before smiling. “I can’t speak for them, but I couldn’t imagine parents not loving their child. If I was in their shoes, I’d still love my children, or at least I’d like to think that I would… After all, I didn’t do anything to disgrace them or the templar… I just… wanted to see the world and other cultures...” Her voice grew quiet as she became unsure of what else to say.

Despite being complete strangers, only knowing each other’s names, Jahanghir seemed to be a caring individual. Unlike the people she surrounded herself with back home, the sense of kindness was a welcome change. As he tossed a piece of wood into the fire behind them, she smiled. “You’re a kind soul,” she said as a matter of fact. “What about you? Do you have a family that loves you?”

"Hm." Jahan pondered for a moment as he tried to find the words. "I've never known my mother and father, they had died as a result of my taboo pregnancy. " Jahan didnt know how to lightly have put it.

"So I was raised by my uncles who were gladiators and soldiers in Reim. I have a lot of people I care for, but I think there are more people who simply depend on me." Jahan began to think of the members of his guild who had relied on him for clothes food and shelter.

"But to be loved? Im not sure how much they love me... I've just met most of my friends" This epiphany caused Jahanghir to suddenly take notice of his loneliness. This wasn't a particularly hard to answer question for most people. Maybe the boys friendships have been more shallow then he had noticed. Or maybe he hadn't taken enough care into the individuals that cared about him. Jahan stopped himself though because he was beginning to stress something unimportant. He was a king that was as free as the wind while holding dominion over the stars. His mind could not be stuck in a fleeting emotion.

Instead he turned face to Vavatine and began examining her again as much as he had tried to hold back the questioning and prying he became more curious about her mask. It was the one line between them she had not bore her identity in front of him.

"Why do you hide yourself from me?" Jahan asked plainly while gesturing at her mask.

"Is there something worth hiding beneath there?"

Vavatine immediately felt guilt wash over her as Jahanghir told her about his parents, both of whom died when he was born, and his family, which consisted of his uncles and soldiers. Sure, she had trouble with her parents now, but the young Imuchakk girl could remember all the moments her mother lulled her to sleep as a child, caressing her face and brushing her hair, and when her father taught her the ways of the sword, her family heritage. Jahanghir didn’t have those sorts of memories, not the way she did. “I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” she blubbered, feeling awful about her intrusion into his past, feeling as though she dredged up some unwanted emotions or memories. “I didn’t mean to pry,” she said, finishing her previous thought.

The Imuchakk averted her gaze, choosing to instead focus on her hands that were clasped in her lap. If not for Jahanghir, she probably would have gotten up out of guilt and left, but that same guilt kept her rooted. She couldn’t leave someone in such a state of loneliness, especially if it was just because she had brought up an unwanted past.

“Oh, um…” Her fingers gingerly touched her mask. “I suppose it’s merely a habit. You see, my mother gave this to me sometime before I left home. It was a gift to celebrate me soon joining the family templar… Of course… I left before joining officially, and this mask has never left my face since.” Vavatine felt silly telling Jahanghir all this. Under her mask, she felt her cheeks burn with such a fierce heat that she was grateful for it being on. “I-I um…” At a loss for words, Vavatine merely sat there, waiting for the heat in her cheeks to fade. Then, she slowly took her mask off to set it in her lap, her blue eyes looking up at Jahanghir through her long lashes in slight embarrassment and her cheeks a slight tinge of pink. “I apologize if I seemed rude…”

Vavatine  began stumbling across her words in a nervous manner exposing more of her soft heart and nature to Jahan. He smiled he wanted her to feel calmed by his expression.

"Its alright,  Im not sad over anything. I was still raised with love." he had wanted to elaborate to have told her that while he was raised with love he would have to reevaluate that for his current comrades. In fact though, even as the world king questioned it his guild loved him truly. He caught Vava fiddling with her hands nervously before reacting to his next question.

“Oh, um…” Her fingers gingerly touched her mask. “I suppose it’s merely a habit. You see, my mother gave this to me sometime before I left home. It was a gift to celebrate me soon joining the family templar… Of course… I left before joining officially, and this mask has never left my face since.”

She removed her mask apologetically revealing herself to Jahanghir, she was a blue haired women with a strong dignified beauty. Jahan shook his head

"No I should be apologizing, here I thought you were using the mask to hide your identity, when it was a part of it." Jahan had expected to see some gruesome scar or deformity but her mask was a keepsake, something invaluable to the woman. She peered up at the man her glass portals reflecting a sky like blue at him. She blushed slightly and it cracked at the kings cool demeanor for a second causing him to break eye contact awkwardly for a moment.

"You dont need to apologize y'know? Were friends now right? Dont say sorry unless you hurt me."

The rain rolled over slapping the rooftops with a percussive noise a few times which echoed through the chamber. The wind and the storm began to pick up even more, it was becoming a stronger tropical storm and would bring rain and wind that attempt to force Jahan from the mouth of the man sized opening. Jahan shielded himself with his a blanket, a black and royal blue mink cloth that was large and soft. The trimmings of the blanket had a golden ornament to them which brought more life to it.  He didnt want to have to move from his theatre yet he had enjoyed the calming of the sound and the enchanting dance of the rain to much. He took notice of Vavatine though and quickly wrapped his blanket around her shoulders, it was a large fabric which would give her a bit of space between Jahanghir. Though perhaps she would rather settle into his warmth.

The sky flashed with thunder violently a few times and Jahan took this as a sign that it was far from over.

"Seems like we are fated to share this night." Jahan commented " Lucky for us there isnt too many holes in the roof"

Vavatine laughed, her soft gaze noticing the brief break in eye contact. “Well, you’re not wrong. Everyone in the Sapphire Templar do wear a mask to conceal their identity. Granted, it’s a bit silly since the members are mainly blood relatives, with a few exceptions being close friends.” She shrugged, “It just turned into part of my identity, which… I think was the whole point in the end.” The imuchakk was unsure what to say when Jahanghir told her to only say sorry when she hurt him. Her mouth opened, the next words meant to be yet another unnecessary apology, but she stopped midway. “Alright,” agreed Vavatine, “but I can’t see myself hurting a friend. Guess that means I’ll never apologize,” she added with light laughter.

A smile rested on her face until she jumped ever-so-slightly, having forgotten all about the growing tempest outside. The wind howled, and though nowhere near the sheer temperature of her icy homeland, Vavatine was relieved to feel the blanket being draped over her shoulders atop her blue uniform. When the thunder roared, Vavatine jumped again, her body involuntarily nestling itself against Jahanghir’s body.

“I’ve heard stories of rainstorms, about how cannons would fire followed by a blinding flashing light in the sky, but I never imagined it to be so loud and brutal. It seems what few stories I’ve heard are true. This storm is quite the spectacle; it’s so different than the blizzards back home.” She paused to look at Jahanghir and then the ceiling. “Very lucky. We’d either be drenched or be carried away by the waterfall this storm could probably produce.”

Vavatine sighed contently. “I’m glad to have met you,” she admitted, “Meeting someone like you gives me hope that maybe there’s a brighter future.”

Vavatine laughed, her soft gaze noticing the brief break in eye contact. “Well, you’re not wrong. Everyone in the Sapphire Templar do wear a mask to conceal their identity. Granted, it’s a bit silly since the members are mainly blood relatives, with a few exceptions being close friends.” She shrugged, “It just turned into part of my identity, which… I think was the whole point in the end.”

Jahan nodded, the woman spoke of a place unlike any he had witnessed in his lifetime. Imuchakk, the frozen tundra, the land of the giants. It was somewhere he would have to roam in his lifetime, but he didnt look forward to it. His knowledge of the place was "cold" at most and that conflicted with his bright and sun-god like personality. That and he would need much much more clothing.

"Would you give me a tour of your home one day? I need to see the world, it is my goal to unite it."

Jahan felt Vava jump into his side and nestle into the kings body. The feeling was sudden and almost awkward at first but there was something relieving about breaking  the physical boundary. He eased up his body against the woman and allowed her to make herself comfortable with their shared space. You were not truly friends with someone until you broke that barrier, and consequentially you both felt no anxiety with one another's touch.

Vavatine had made Jahanghirs heart leap, there was something about what she said that honestly humbled him. He smiled lowering his head and crown for a moment unable to hide his blush. He had never had someone tell him that even among his men. It warmed his heart, he had been feeling off since his time in the dungeon. He had felt as if he almost didnt deserve his Djinn Gremory, however nothing ever happens without a reason.

"You're welcome." Jahan said with a breathe of sincerity. "Im only trying.. I know that the world can be a cold and unforgiving place, but if can bring people together than possibly..." Jahan didnt know how to finish his passions were a difficult one to describe. He believed  in an idealogy, he had faith that he could spread it through the land. It may not be possible to completely eradicate war and poverty, to create a world that is based off humanity. It also may not be the most humane path to take, considering the inevitable violence in the path of the conqueror. None the less it was a plot this world needed Jahan would be the catalyst to shake the world. The king clutched Vavatines Side obviously bothered, he had stirred a storm within himself again. He rested his head against the Imuchakk's and exhaled, his grip loosening and inviting again a space of soft and tender treatment. He didnt want to be to touchy with the women but something about her and the moment felt so natural to him. He wasnt inclined to hiding his behavior, instead he opted for vulnerability and would allow the woman to reject him or push him away if she willed. However for now the king would find peace within their fragile skinship.

"The flash of the sky is lightning, and its roar is thunder." Jahan explained to the women as he laid his forehead against hers.

"Sometimes" Jahan began to speak gently "Sometimes I feel like lightning"

The young Imuchakk stared at Jahanghir. She was bewildered at his request of showing him her home, the icy tundra of the giants. Not many asked to do so since there was literally nothing there to see. Most outsiders knew that, which probably aided in the country’s isolation. What did he mean by unite? Imuchakk, though dotted with small villages with their own chiefs, never felt divided. That was just how her nation worked, and they had a leader, the mighty Asisiak. She swallowed before answering slowly, “I could, but what do you mean it’s your goal to unite it?”

Vavatine listened to it all, the thunder, the rain, the crackling fire, the howling wind, and Jahanghir’s words. Her blue eyes never wavered or swayed from his as she tried to give him her undivided attention. The sudden clutch both startled and worried her since Jahanghir seemed bothered by something. His words didn’t quite fit together, like he struggled putting the pieces of a puzzle together. Then, their foreheads touched and Vavatine could feel his breath caress her lips as he exhaled. Her heart raced in her chest. Nobody had been so close to her in her life, save for her mother, but to compare the two was poor. This was a young man whom she had just met moments ago, but despite that, Vavatine didn’t dare move. She sat there and stared at the man’s face, her cheeks burning hotter than before. His hold on her softened, his presence more inviting. The warrior didn’t want to move and hope the time for her or him to leave didn’t arrive soon.

“Lightning… thunder…” Since Jahanghir placed his forehead against hers, the warrior had forgotten to breathe for fear the slightest movement might break their contact or worse wake up if this was a dream. She slowly inhaled through her nose and carefully exhaled. “You feel like lightning… What is that like?” Vavatine asked in a whisper, keeping her blue eyes trained on his.

Jahan peered back into the girl's sapphire portals from just inches above, he began to describe a feeling he couldn't quite explain.

"It's like Im the clouds and bottle up within me an unstoppable force--I can't control myself." Jahan admitted he was young bull headed and strong. He wore his heart on his sleeve and his emotions were rich and passionate. He was forever in the moment and this moment he was to share with Vavatine.

"I dont understand myself sometimes life doesnt feel real. Sometimes I think I have to take risks to feel alive. Im always acting on instinct." Jahan had become comfortable and he was bearing truths to the women he hadn't even acknowledged to himself. Jahan smiled genuinely amused by his nature this whole time he had been acting like lightning.

He glanced into the woman's eyes taking in her beauty and her grace. He reached up her back gently beneath her neck he tended to her hair. He couldnt contain himself, he had wanted to pet her. She was so close within his grip and he enjoyed it. His body didn't give him any room to doubt himself not a bit of room to be nervous, he felt like lightning. It was time for him to strike and he knew she would understand.

He dropped his head and took Vavatine by the lips, a burning feeling escaped his chest as he was rewarded for his boldness. The feeling of her lips was soft against his and he kissed her softly and sweetly. He reached across her to grip her thigh never disconnecting from the woman. His desires boiled over, he couldnt seem to think straight anymore. He wanted to hold her, to touch her to be connected with this woman he had only just met. If anything for at least a moment. His eyes reflected purple rays back at the women in them you could see his yearning. He bit his lip slightly and seductively in irritation.

"I want you" Jahan admitted in a low tone. He buried his face into her neck and trailed gentle kisses upon her neck. He was trying to hold back still, but every second burned at his core. He wanted to leave the woman love bites and to show her how he was a man. He felt so rude but say it was the only way he would get his desires.

"Would you let me have you?"Jahan asked the women and the sky roared again flashing one more time before the rain met it creating a peaceful chorus.

A small smile played on Vavatine’s lip, her hand reaching to hold his. She felt the truth and emotion slipping from his mouth with such strength, she swore she could taste them. “I see,” she whispered. “Sounds intriguing… Anyway I could feel that too?” Vavatine wanted to know what he felt. After so many years simply doing things by the book, doing what she was told, the prospect of acting on instinct, taking risks, and being an unstoppable force sounded so enticing.

Jahanghir’s hand touching her hair sent pleasant shivers throughout her body, but nothing in the world could have prepared her for his lips caressing hers own. Vavatine’s hands reached out, her arms draping his shoulders while the fingers of her right hand ran through his ebony locks. His yearning was reflected in her sapphire orbs. Her own mind was becoming cloudy with passion, intoxicated by affections being shared in the moment. Was she really going through with this? Was it okay? She was just a warrior, a status she felt was beneath a king, even one without a country. For her to be engaging in such activities was normally frowned upon, right? The warmth of his lips encouraged her and melted away the uncertainty she felt. She wanted to feel alive like never before, to take a chance and just live in the moment without having to worry about any consequences.

As if his touch wasn’t enough, her heart jumped with glee at Jahanghir’s confession. Blood rushed to her cheeks, and the only thing she could hear for a few seconds was the rapid pumping of her heart as if it threatened to break from her chest. More kisses were placed upon her skin incited a faint giggle, but there was the faintest hint of fear. Vavatine’s heavy breathing and the intimacy of the pair had her at a loss of words for a while. “I want you too. I want you to have me,” she admitted in a faint whisper as she let her fingers trail down to caress the wandering king’s facial features, committing every detail to the deepest parts of her mind. She blushed and bit her lip. “It’s just… You’d...You’ll be my first…” Vavatine felt embarrassed to admit that she was a virgin, but she had to get it off her chest.

Vavatine’s blue eyes flickered upwards once again to gauge Jahanghir’s reaction and emotions. She knew he’d cause no harm to her, but she wanted to let him know what she'd be giving him. Jahanghir was gentle from the moment they began to talk and wore his heart on his sleeve for all to see. Both were qualities Vavatine cherished in a person, and hoped wasn’t as rare as a blue moon. She watched, her heart still beating furiously and cheeks burning with built-up passion, waiting and longing for what came next.

Jahans expression became shocked and his heart skipped a beat, Vavatine's confession changed things. He couldn't just have sex with her it was no longer fair. He gave the women a pleasant smile and kissed her forehead lovingly.

"Im honored, in that case we will make love." Sincerity rolled off Jahan's breath threatening to pierce Vava's skin and land in her spirit. "Tonight Vavatine you are my woman." Jahan had claimed the woman and he would pull the beauty into his lap where he wanted her. He had no intention to rush, the storm would be lasting for a while maybe several hours. Hopefully until the break of dawn the storm would rage on.

He cradled the woman one hand on her rear and the other enveloping her waistline. He gave her sweet kisses  upon her cheek, neck and lips. He tugged at her bottom lip with his own on a cute and sexy motion. He wanted to give her memories she could always savor and look back on. He wanted her to feel loved and safe in his arms. She was giving him her sacred fruit and he was great at showing his gratitude.

He took of his shirt and threw it carelessly to the side, grabbing Vavatine's hands he placed them to his chest and abs. He was a strong and well defined Fanalis he would not deny the girl access to his body,he would lower her hands and draw attention to his  finely sculpted abs. He had the body of a god all of his muscles were well defined and the perfect size between strength and aesthetic.

"Princess" he called Vavatine as he stared into her eyes, before saying another word his lips met hers gain this time deepening their kiss. His tongue would knock at hers trying for entry, and when granted the world king would play with hers. He would explore her mouth and suck her tongue sensually before meeting her lips in a closed passionate kiss again giving her access to his own. She may have felt his manhood growing beneath her with his excitement.

"Princess" he called the imuchakk again in a low sweet tone.

Vavatine’s heart fluttered and felt the strength of his sincerity. When Jahanghir pulled her onto his lap, she wrapped her legs around him, wanting to be closer to him. Every sensory detail was savored and committed to memory: his subdued kisses painting her skin, the way his lips pulled at hers, his flawless skin and chiseled form when he discarded the shirt, the smooth sensation of his skin against her fingertips, the contours of every one of his muscles, the scent of his breath, everything. There wasn’t a single detail Vavatine wanted to miss as she let her hands wander and eyes study.

She removed her hands to erase the barrier her clothes offered, starting with the shirt and  followed by the cloth that covered her chest. Her body was slender, yet by no means was she a snappable twig. Her warrior training defined her muscles subtly while keeping her feminine figure. The Imuchakk was slow, making every action last just long enough for it to be burned into the deepest crevices of her mind. Never forget this, she thought to herself. No matter what happens, I want to remember this even if it is a one time thing. Her eyes looked into Jahanghir’s lavender irises and smiled at him. Always remember…

Vavatine’s smiled broadened and her cheeks turned deep crimson when she was called princess. Her mind couldn’t process itself once his lips touched hers again, but this time with his tongue. Intoxicated by the heat of the moment, she responded with her own tongue. It was a strangely pleasurable feeling, having his tongue in her mouth and vice versa. If she were asked to describe it, there’d be no words.

Her right hand hooked on his pants while her other arm reached behind him to explore his back muscles and pull her body closer. She leaned in close after kissing him to briefly bury her face into the crevice of his neck before creating a trail of kisses up his neck and along his jaw. “Jahanghir,” she murmured softly, nibbling gently on his earlobe. Beneath her, she could feel Jahanghir’s manhood. Vavatine’s heart raced once again. There was excitement dosed with a twinge of fear inside her. She felt delighted that he chose to spend the night with a girl such as herself. Tonight Vavatine felt special, even if it was just tonight or the only time in her life she’d feel special. Tonight was all that mattered.

The storm continued outside the shelter in which they resided. The howling of the wind and chill of the tempest was all but a faint tickle against Vavatine’s skin compared to the heat emitting from the fire, Jahan’s gentle touch and the raging inferno swelling inside her. The imuchakk pulled away so she could kiss the fanalis king again and whisper, “My king.”

Vavatine clung to Jahanghir and stared deeply into his eyes. Her fingers traced his lips as she smiled in contentment. Then, she kissed him again, an act that would no doubt repeat countless times that night. “My king,” she repeated in a hushed sultry tone. With a passionate deep kiss, Vavatine let her mind go blank, feeling nothing but the emotions brought on by the present and their time together for the remainder of the stormy night as they made sweet love.

*fade to black*

Some time late at the edge of the night time the chorus of the rain slowed before stopping entirely. Water dripped from the handles of the scattered sword graveyard. Unseen to the world the rukh began to rise to the sky in a beautiful harmony taking to the sky thousands of the bird of life danced within the air only to disappear within the ether. Jahan woke from his slumber and gently he began to move but he felt his arm secured by Vavatine as he lay by her side spooning the woman.

He smiled as his recollection of the night returned and he buried his face behind the crook of the girls neck. For a warrior she smelled nice but Jahan preferred his scent on the woman. He could still see his markings on her flesh and he could still taste her on his lips. They lied under his blanket the massive mink ornament for a king. He was glad he was able to share it with the woman, for her to experience the softness of the fine tapestry.

He watched the woman breath in her sleep unable to bring himself to disturb her slumber the king gave her his arm to cradle against her chest. He had hoped he had given her the best night of her life, something worthy of her purity. He looked up from his position and stared into the night sky from the tattered hole in the fort roofing. The stars were shining their final lights and his heart began to sink a bit knowing he would have to leave soon. It somehow ached him, this woman who he had hardly known but he had connected to.

"This woman" Jahan thought to himself not sure what to think of anything. Jahan was a ladies man, always popular with women he had spent many nights like this but there was something different about this. It wasn't a night he had spent in his youth trying to chase tail or practice. It was something his spirit had yearned for, it was something that felt sacred.

In more ways than he had known the boy had formed a connection with the woman. He had planted his seed within her and unknown to them things had already began forming. Jahan's life was soon to change in ways he wasnt prepared for he was entering a life he had no experience with. The world king exhaled choosing to relax and enjoy his last few hours with the girl, he felt the sun would soon peak above the horizon. He would have to leave, his life filled with inevitable death and bloodshed was not something he wanted to drag this woman into. He couldn't have a lady truly to stay with him and ease his pains, he had no time he had to go and for some reason it felt wrong as if he shouldnt.

So Jahan cradled the women close and he cherished his last hours. Curling up tightly against the woman he closed his eyes again and drifted back into slumber. Time would not stop however, and the sun dawned on them. Jahanghir would be re awoken by the sound of morning songbirds. He flickered his eyes open and rose from his slumber. His arm had been released by Vavatine, who still rested in there pallet.

As much as the man didn't want to face the morning it was time to let go and charge into his destiny. He decided on leaving his blanket in That much he acknowledged. He fixed his pants and his shirt and placed his crown ceremoniously on top of his head before heading towards the exit. Before he could make it out something stopped him, a raging feeling in his gut. He turned to the girl and he walked back and knelt above her placing a hand on her cheek.

"..." He didnt know what to do and he was worried about waking her. He felt guilty to take her virginity and walk away, he didnt have much to offer her and money was out of the option. What she had given to Jahanghir was priceless, instead the young king removed the earrings from his lobes. He didnt know if she would like them, but they certainly were real and very beautiful. He followed up by removing his golden necklace, he would hope she would keep it but if she chose to sell it she would surely be rich.

"Ahh-huff" jahan exhaled "There" he thought to himself. He had at least left her something to show he did care. With that he took his turn to leave walking out into the sword graveyard and traveling far into the horizon.

Though Vavatine didn’t stir, there were a couple of times she lightly awoke and felt the presence of Jahan. His presence comforted the woman into more slumber both times until the time she awoke for good. Vavatine stirred with a soft moan and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She didn’t want to get up; she just wanted to lay there and continue the dream she was having and just relish the memories that were given to her. However, her body immediately jolted upright in a sitting position.

The sun was blinding at first, but she didn’t care about the light. Her blue eyes scanned the area, looking for Jahanghir. For a brief moment in her groggy state, there was a dreaded fear that last night was just a dream she concocted and the man had departed. There was an ache building up in her chest, a knot in her throat. Yet as the grogginess began to dissipate, Vavatine became more aware of the marks left behind by Jahanghir, the soft fabric against her skin, and the sunlight glinting off some objects next to her. Relief washed away the fear knowing that last night was real. The warrior was touched to notice that Jahanghir left his blanket but even more so about the earrings and necklace. The items were beyond her reach as a woman not born to nobility or royalty: a mulberry silk blanket, golden earrings, and golden necklace.

Vavatine didn’t know what to do. Such gifts were unnecessary, and if she had been awake when Jahanghir left, she would have tried to decline them. The memories of the night they shared and the marks that painted her body were more than enough to remember him by. If there was one thing she would have wanted it would be to see him face one last time. With him gone, that wish would go unanswered… Vavatine picked up the earrings and necklace. Most would probably sell them for money, but Vavatine had no need for money and these were a special gift, a gift she happily received even though reluctant. She’d never forgive herself if she were to be selfish, and since she couldn’t see Jahanghir’s face, they were all that were left of the man she made love to (or so she thought at the time for little did she know that he had given her something more precious than gold or silk growing inside her soon).

The warrior carefully folded the blanket and put on the necklace and earrings. After she carefully laid the blanket down, she got dressed, wincing every now and then due to the marks on her skin but the pain made her happy. Of all the men, she chose him to give her fruit. It was a decision she didn’t regret, even now. He was a kind man, an honest man, a sincere man.

She picked up the folded fabric and clutched it against her chest tightly. Her blue eyes looked around slowly and remembered the time spent with Jahanghir with a smile. Vavatine brought the blanket to her nose and sniffed it. His scent still lingered. Thank you so much… I wish I could tell you in person.... Thank you, my king, for letting me feel like a princess… I’ll never forget you.

For a few moments, she stood there with her eyes closed, thanking fate for allowing her to meet Jahanghir until she could stay no longer. Vavatine opened her eyes and gazed out at the graveyard yet never seeing the it either. She exhaled slowly and placed the mask over her face before turning to continue her life, leaving behind a place that held a beloved evening.


*months later*


The imuchakk warrior returned to the ruins where she had met a certain fanalis king quite some time ago. The time passed felt like an eternity, but she often came back to reminisce. The scene of the mass graveyard had not changed nor the ruins in which she stood. Vavatine, on ther other hand, had changed considerably. The blue uniform from back then had been replaced with looser clothing, her hair was longer, the golden necklace and earrings were where she placed them, and there was a new sense of maturity about her. None of these were the most noticeable of changes though. A month or two after the fated and beautiful night with Jahanghir, the warrior had noticed her body was changing. She realized Jahanghir had given her more than a blanket and two articles of jewelry. He had blessed her with life: their child was growing inside her.

When Vavatine found out, she was terrified. After all, she never planned on having children. She didn’t know what to do. The warrior had immediately gone to the ruins where she met Jahanghir, foolishly hoping he’d be there while knowing her actions were futile. There was nowhere else she could think of going, and eventually it became a habit. First once a week but soon daily. Everyday Vavatine came, hoping she would see Jahanghir and tell him the news, but of course he wouldn’t be there. Still, she came and talked about her day as if he were there, and it made her feel content. She talked about her friend, Lena, a human that she lived with while in Reim, and about her daily activities and thoughts. It felt like he was listening thanks to the special connection they shared, though she felt silly to think that way.

Vavatine gazed at the horizon thoughtfully. She stood there in silence for a moment, lost in her thoughts and memories before she began to speak. “Lena’s been hovering me all day. Though it’s no different than how she’s been acting recently. I know she’s concerned about me and the baby, but no matter how many times I assure her we’re fine, she just won’t listen. I can’t go out much because she’s so paranoid that I’ll be mugged or an accident will happen. I couldn’t even go to the market a block away to get some pie.” Vavatine shook her head with a smile. “She’s a handful.. I often wonder if you’d be like that if you were here, but I know you’re a wandering king. You have your own goals… Your own life… You’re probably busy right now with overcoming more obstacles or training.”

The warrior looked down at the ground, her eyes suddenly glistening with tears. “I wish you didn’t leave,” she whispered. There were so many times she wanted to rewind time and make herself wake up, to convince him to stay, but she knew that it would have never happened. They were strangers that night, only just starting to get to know each other. They had no relationship before they made love, and thus didn’t have to be committed to each other. She even figured that she wasn’t the first girl he slept with, nor would she be the last. He was so handsome that every girl probably fell for him. Just because she was special that one night didn’t mean she had some claim on him, nor did he have a claim on her. They owed nothing to each other. Nevertheless, the impossible wish was still there because she knew there was something between them. If there wasn’t he wouldn’t have given her the blanket or jewelry.

Vavatine felt the baby kick and wiped away her tears. “This is the last time I’ll probably be able to come here.” Vavatine smiled to herself as she cradled her belly and rubbed it. “Our child will be born soon,” she said, “so I’ll be very busy trying to take care of him. I’ve also decided to join the Unity Corps here in Reim so that I can protect our little one. I wouldn’t worry though. When I’m doing Unity Corps business, Lena will watch over our baby, but between all that, I won’t have any free time on my hands,” she said with a light giggle. Silence hung in the air while Vavatine bit her lip and continued in a light-hearted tone. “Of course, I don’t know if it’s a he yet, but I just have this feeling… It’s really hard to explain. I’ve been thinking of names, but nothing has come to mind yet.”

Looking up at the sky, she noticed the sun was getting lower. “I’d stay longer, but Lena is probably already worried sick… I feel like a child with this curfew she put on me.” She placed her hands on her hips and looked stern. “‘ Be back before twilight! If you’re out then say goodbye to dessert!’” Vavatine exclaimed sternly, trying to act an like her friend Lena. It was enough to make her burst out laughing. “I hope you are well, my king. I’ll talk with you again as soon as I’m able.”

The woman stood there for a moment and listened to the silence. Even then, she couldn’t bear to leave but knew that she had to. The baby inside her moved. “Don’t you worry. Everything will be fine… Let’s go home...”

The name was simple, and Shajahan Nikator had a nice ring to it and had a part of Jahanghir’s name. She headed home, her hands cradling her stomach, still wishing Jahanghir could be there to at least see his son but never losing hope that he might.

In a few days, Vavatine gave birth to Shajahan Nikator inside Lena’s home. The new mother would be able to spend a few months with her son before going to Heliohapt for an important Unity Corps mission. She left her son in the care of Lena, along with the mulberry silk blanket, the necklace, and the earrings. The warrior never planned on being gone for long, but sadly fate had other plans. Her mission in Heliohapt would not go smoothly and all communication would cease, leaving Lena, a worried friend, to take care of the baby.

[EXIT]

Fate had a fickle heart, showing men fleeting moments of happiness only momentarily. She was a wise guide and a strict mother. Jahanghir would happen upon the sword graveyard only a few special moments after Vavatine left.


A strange feeling kept resonating within Jahan. There it was again! Gripping at his spirit that feeling like lightning. So he followed his gut and took after the Masoleum in the sword graveyard. The fortress which in its irony birthed their first life. Clouds brew above the atmosphere but they would never come to full fruition. Instead the melancholic moisture bursted prematurely, as the wind picked up a howl. The weather was near bizarre in nature it drizzled then stopped for the sun to shine and daylight would radiate only for a reverie.

Jahangir entered the same chamber he laid with the women in.  Oddly enough the room didn't feel like it had been abandoned long.  The thatching on the torn roofing and wall had been recovered neatly. There was visibly less dust and dirt and for some reason it felt more cozy.  The whole room felt warm with the memory of the night it caused Jahan to close his eyes and smile.

The memory of her skin and her touch was still fresh in his heart. As he imagined he could almost taste her on his tongue.

It brought him bliss.

“Hm” he said “Tonight we will make love” Jahan chuckled throwing his hands to his hair.

“I'm not cool at all” he spoke out loud finding that he could have left the woman with a million other words.  Jahan took a seat in the same hole he had several months ago. He made himself comfortable and oddly he found himself waiting. It was a weird moment for the king but something deep in his intuition made him pause for a spell.

And his mind went back to Vavatine again. His heart rate started to escalate and his skin crawled as he recalled the night. It was pure bliss,  somehow the act of love was so natural between the two it transcended a fling. It brought him peace and healing. Somehow his very spirit softened at the thought. Jahan hadn't felt this with any other girl and he played games with women. He had known women but he had never known a side to him so gentle. So passionate and loving.
He loved her just because he felt he should

He couldn't believe it.  It caused him to smile “ We must have made love between us”

Astonished by the sensation he had almost forgotten how he yearned for the women. He finally understood it, the feeling like lightning.

“I miss her.. “ he thought to himself.  A small and in his chest left him speechless.  He hadn't  thought of the women but in the times he needed the warmth of her memories.  Now jahan felt regret he should have never left her. He should have took her home and became her friend. He regretted it all now and he didn't get it, he just felt as if he was too late.

The rukh around Jahangir sang a sad song for the king. They danced around him as if to say they warned him.  That he was supposed to have followed his gut.

Jahangir watched out the hole towards the true and blue sky, the sweet and somber feeling in him subsiding as he witnessed a rainbow. The beautiful light  arched around the atmosphere and somehow it felt a bit less pitiful. If only Jahanghir knew he would bear a son to the world.  Jahan began to hum a tune before singing in a light airy voice.

“Your hair piled up
piled up high~”  The words were drawn out in a high pitch and Jahan would repeat himself

“Your hair piled up
piled up high”  Jahanghir paused for a half beat and produced a soft and sacred like note

“Your a flower
Your a river
Your a rainboooow~!"

[exit]