Indrasen Sundav's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Queen Mayu leads him from the lake to a small straw hut nearby. The thatched roof bows low. She sits on a woven mat and motions him down. Her guard takes his place at the door, spear in hand. The lamp flame still burns in her palm. "Your name is Sen," she says. "I am your mother. I have not spoken these words in twelve years." Indrasen's hands go cold. The name lands inside him like a stone dropped in still water. She unrolls an old scroll between them. Painted stars and circles shimmer in the dim light. "This was cast the night you were born. A prince's son. Heir to three kingdoms." Her voice does not shake, but her fingers do. "Your father was Mara. He betrayed our royal house. He killed every cousin, every uncle, every child who shared our blood. He took the three crowns in one night." Indrasen stares at the scroll. He cannot remember a father. He cannot remember a throne. But the name Sen sits in his chest as if it has always lived there. "I fled with you still in my belly," Mayu says. "He hunted me through every forest. When you were born, I could not keep you. I left you with your guru, where no royal eye would look. I have searched every year since." The guard speaks once, low. "She never stopped. Not one day." Indrasen lowers his head to the mat. He came here looking for a name. He has it now. Sen. Son of a butcher king. The ground he trusted beneath his feet feels different already. He does not know who he is becoming. But he knows, now, what blood he carries — and that somewhere, a father who killed a kingdom does not yet know his son is alive.