Thirteen Lullabies | ✓

VI.I

To be honest, the years following your death in Norway are muddled in my mind. All I know is that the few memories I do have are bleak, painted a dark gray. Everything around me was heavily shrouded in stormy clouds, a hazy two hundred and something years. Days blurred into months, into years and years without you.

You would think that the pain would dull after so many centuries, or that I would be used to the numbness within me each time you left me. But clearly that was not the case. I spent centuries wandering the earth for you, only to hold you and lose you in the span of weeks.

After Norway, I became despondent. Some days I was angry, some days I barely moved. And yet, life moved on around me. Dynasties rose and fell, monarchs conquered and were defeated.

In all the chaos, I found myself walking the sandy beaches of Southern India. A few years before, I had washed ashore, pulled from the ocean by some local fishermen. I had thrown myself in, just to see what would happen. By the time they had pulled me out, I had drowned fifteen times that I could remember, the burning of water entering my lungs and tears filling my eyes barely even registering in my mind over and over again as I continued to come back to life.

I began learning their language, and they seemed to enjoy my company enough, although it is possible that they only wanted me for my labor. Every morning I woke up with them and sat in the hot sun until night fell. I never really wondered why I had made my way to India. By then, I had stopped questioning destiny.

No matter what, I was sure that I would be at the right place at the right time in order to find you. That is just the way it was for us. And so, when I was seized by palace guards for some reason or another and taken to see the great King Vikramaditya the Sixth, I was almost unsurprised to feel the pain in my wrist, the searing of the tattoo.

A pain I had come to love. A pain I had come to live for. It reminded me why all of the pain of the past centuries was worth it.

Bright ghagras pulled my attention to the rhythmic spinning of the young court dancers, skirts twirling to the music that came to an abrupt end as the doors to the room were thrown open.

I had clearly been brought before your king at a time when the kingdom was rejoicing. Women dressed in colorful saris stopped their boisterous conversation as I was shoved into the large courtroom.

"State your business in our kingdom." A quick flick of his wrist, and the king had sent one of his advisors down the steps to me, the heated request thrown my way, as if I had caused some major disturbance that warranted immediate action.

I didn't respond immediately, instead eyeing the people in the room. I noticed the king had three queens, at the very least. All stood with their faces covered, however I knew that their dark eyes rested upon me.

It wasn't hard to tell the difference between the royal family and the rest of the court. Each of the king's sons were adorned with beautiful swords and all of his daughters held their heads high, despite the sparkling jewels on their heads, bodies dripping with gem encrusted bangles, necklaces and earrings.