"Oh! We have to attend this!" Shyra said, jumping up and down. Uttara was then pulled rather roughly into the dingy stall by an excited Shyra. They stepped through the door and made their way across the room lit with dim lighting. Even at this time of day, it was filled with smallfolk and praanis of various sizes, eagerly awaiting the story.

Many sat on chairs thrown around the room and the rest occupied the stone floor in droves. The faint smell of parijata lingered in the air, giving their atmosphere a pleasant vibe.

"It's nice to see that there are many children here as well," Shyra said, glancing around at the assembled people. There were many young people around, chattering among themselves. "It helps build our confidence when we know how great our ancestors were. It makes us believe in ourselves."

"The same way you have such immense faith in our people because of our history?" Uttara asked, bumping shoulders with Shyra. Shyra pushed her off slightly and settled down at the back of the crowd. Uttara joined her with a couple of drinks poured from her personal flask.

"Alright, everyone! Our storyteller is about to begin. Please maintain silence throughout the session," a man came onstage and said with a short bow. He escorted an old man behind him and seated him on a charmwood chair, and left the stage. Even from this distance, Shyra could already smell the sage and herbs emanating from him.

The old man cleared his throat softly. Somehow, this commanded everyone's attention for a kshana. Shyra looked at him with furrowed brows, trying to figure out how he got the audience's attention. His wrinkly, parched hair and flowing clothes made him seem like any other old man on the street. He smiled, displayed crooked teeth, and spread his arms widely.

"Hello everyone! My name is Tiam, and I'll be your storyteller for today. Now, how many of you have heard of the planet Earth's destruction and its aftermath?"

Most of the adults in the room, including Shyra, slowly raised their hands. The children looked at each other questioningly and shook their heads in unison.

Tiam smiled kindly at the little ones and continued. "I see. Since the kids here aren't aware of our basic histories yet, let me begin with this story."

There were a few appreciative nods from the audience, and Tiam started his tale with wide eyes and animated gestures.

"In the olden days, Earth was the only home we'd known for a long time. In spite of having everything, our ancestors overused their environment and triggered the delicate balance between them and nature. Due to them, Earth was cloaked by burning magma. There was destruction everywhere, and the ones who could afford it escaped on spaceships that had been built for a long time in preparation for this."

"That is the huge metal cylinder we see in the Town Center, right ma?" a little voice chirped, and was silenced by his embarrassed mother, much to the amusement of the audience.

"So this particular spaceship was from an ancient country called India. It got separated from its pod and was left to rot in space. Its inhabitants had given up hope when they spotted a planet they could dock on. Preparations were made immediately to land, and everyone buckled for impact."

"Did they land safely?" a little girl asked with a raised hand. The old man chuckled, his deep, sonorous voice filling the room.

"You tell me. Do you think they made it?"

The girl put a finger on her chin and scrunched her forehead, then nodded her head confidently.

"That's right! These explorers found the planet to be a good home for them. After the loss of Earth, they were all devastated, and finding a water source on the planet was like a sign for them. They named this lovely planet Ziya, and built their life on it."

A couple of proud smiles and appreciative murmurs rang through the crowd and Shyra smiled at the enthusiasm and goosebumps that ran down her arms. Her people were truly extraordinary, and this storyteller was doing an exceptional job in portraying it. She would have to pay him later for his efforts.

"Our Ziya grew into a rich, thriving planet and our population grew with time. Unfortunately, that also became a problem for us, as Ziya could only take a small number of people. So a few of the adventurous Ziyans began exploring Pranali and started landing on various planets to check their livability. A few of the planets were livable, and few of them had to be adapted to."

"Like Ronin and Mehri, right?" someone from the audience asked, flaunting their knowledge of their histories.

"Yes. These planets were unlivable for quite a while. Unlike Alza and Ilya, which were very much hospitable."

"Especially Alza," Shyra muttered with a slight hint of envy. Uttara glanced at her and smiled at her comment, sharing a hint of secretivity between them.

"Alza was the biggest, most strategically positioned planet out of them all. The Asteroid Path, our path to travel across space, was abundantly laid out around this planet. This made it very convenient to make Alza their home. And due to the emerging importance of trade, Alza's accessible ports grew their wealth at exponential rates. But this soon made them susceptible to some risks as well..."

"Princess Shyra," Uttara muttered in her ear. "We need to leave now. It's time for you to get back to the Castel."

"But can't we stay till the end? Tiam narrates these stories so well," Shyra whispered back. Uttara gave a firm shake of her head in response and dragged Shyra out of the stall. Shyra said a quick apology to the guard standing outside, and they hurried back to the Castel.

Shyra was dropped at the gates by Uttara, who made sure she went inside before heading back to her own home.

Shyra then walked through the stone pathways toward her office. Her mouth soured at the amount of paperwork pending, but as usual, she rolled her shoulders and got down to business.

Getting grants approved for better infrastructure, solving small folk's issues, handling diplomatic requests that had blazed in from the aftermath of the war...

Before Shyra knew it, she was lying face down on the stack of papers with a bit of drool across her mouth. Aita was the first one to come bustling into her chambers. She shook Shyra gently and moved a plate of aromatic salts over Shyra's nose to get her senses working. The fragrances aroused Shyra from her sleep and her nose immediately twitched in the air, trying to locate the new smell.

"Wake up, Shyra. It's a special day today," Aita gently said. Shyra huffed and nodded, twisting her neck to get rid of the stiffness.

"Argh, I should have slept on my bed. My neck hurts badly." she complained, getting up with a groan and stretching. Aita smiled in response, knowing that her princess would just repeat the same mistake whenever she had piles of work.

"Your smiles are very mysterious, you know that?" Shyra commented, getting dressed in her usual attire. Aita ignored her remark and stared at Shyra's dress with dismay.

"What? I like this dress. There's a reason I wear it everyday," Shyra said, glancing self-consciously at her red anarkali that reached down to her ankles and wound around her figure comfortably, allowing for easy movement.

When Aita kept looking at her with a frown, Shyra sighed and pulled on a few bangles and a matha patti.

"That's it. I'm not wearing anything further than this," she said, combing her hair into a bun and wrapping a string of flowers around it. She then gave a little twirl for Aita, who smiled with approval, and rushed to the dining hall.

Shyra's light footsteps clicked to a halt outside the doors. She was announced by the guard and ushered into the opulent room. The kshana she entered, she was smothered by the mouthwatering smells of cooked parathas, warm potato curries, idli and dosas, sambhars, and spiced drinks.

King Sinay and Queen Nayaka greeted her with a cordial blessing as she approached the table, and she returned the gesture with a short bow.

"Father, I trust you've seen the papers from yesterday's samiti," Shyra said as soon as she was seated. Around her, the handmaidens' robes rustled as they arranged her food on a plate.

Sinay opened his mouth to reply, but his wife beat him to it by tutting with impatience. "Princess. Must this be the first thing you ask of your father? Can't this wait till the court sessions?"

Shyra bit her tongue and nodded. Her mother droned on and on as she started eating her breakfast. The savory, tangy flavors teased her tongue and she had to resist the urge to smile widely at the taste. Her mother was scolding her, after all.

"... you also need to visit the temple today, right? After all, it's your twenty-first birthday today. You need to pay your respects to the Cosmos, after which there will be a royal celebration for the entire kingdom. I hope you'll make it back in time for your own festivities, and wear something more special for the event," Nayaka said, glancing at her Anarkali judgmentally.

"Yes, Mother," she said robotically. Nayaka frowned at her tone, but then sighed and started her meal.

They maintained a strained silence throughout the meal, something that happened so often that Shyra didn't even bat an eyelid anymore.

After eating, she hurriedly excused herself from the table and, accompanied by Aita, Uttara and a small party of handmaidens, made her way to the temple. Shyra particularly liked this part of the journey, for Uttara's presence was often filled with joy and laughter. She kept them entertained with anecdotes and jokes that had Shyra wheezing, and before she knew it, they were approaching the rocky white plain that housed the temple.

Shyra ceased her laughter and paused for a kshana, indicating everyone to quiet down as well. This had become a little ritual of hers; stop at the edge of the plain, observe the temple and make her way to the gentle outcropping of rock.

Everyone knew the ritual by now, and they followed her with a solemn air.

Shyra stepped over the stone and bent over the tiny hollow that formed under it. Reaching out a hesitant hand, she ran her fingers over the rough, grainy surface. After a thorough pat-down of the crevice, she withdrew her hand, brushed her fingers on her anarkali and stared at the hollow

When she didn't show any signs of getting up, Aita placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her out of her reverie with a tentative question, "Princess, shall we get going?"

"Aita," Shyra said, gazing blankly at the crevice. "How do you think I ended up here, orphaned and swaddled in a blanket?"

Parijata: A kind of flower commonly found in India. It's first tree is said to grow in heaven, outside the King of the gods' palace

Matha patti: A headpiece worn by women. It is a band of gold and jewels that is clipped across the centerline of the head