The silence on the rooftop was profound, broken only by the whisper of the wind and the unspoken symphony of two hearts realigning after five millennia. Advik's tears were not of sadness, but of a soul-deep recognition—a memory buried so deep that only his spirit remembered.
Shaurya took a step forward, then another, his movements slow, reverent, as if approaching something sacred. The moonlight seemed to cling to him, outlining his divine form in silver. He stopped an arm's length away, close enough for Advik to see the galaxies of pain and love swirling in his eyes.
"How... are you... Advik?" Shaurya's voice was a soft, broken whisper, like a prayer finally spoken after ages of silence.
Hearing his name from those lips—a voice he had never heard, yet one that felt more familiar than his own heartbeat—sent another wave of tears streaming down Advik's face. He stood frozen, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "Why..." he began, his own voice trembling, "do my eyes... fill with such tears... upon seeing you?"
He took a shaky step back, his mind warring with his heart. "You... who are you? How do you know my name? And..." his voice dropped to a vulnerable whisper, "what am I to you? And I... what am I to you? That upon seeing you, my heart... this pain... these emotions..."
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Shaurya's lips, so filled with sorrow and love that it made Advik's breath hitch. "I... am Shaurya," he said, his voice steady but layered with infinite tenderness. "Your Shaurya."
He took another step closer, his gaze holding Advik's, refusing to let him look away from the truth shining there. "And you... you are the moon of my solar system."
The words landed not in Advik's ears, but in his very soul. The moon of my solar system. A profound stillness settled over him. His tears stopped abruptly. His mind went blank, all questions, all confusion silenced by the sheer, undeniable rightness of that statement. For a single, eternal moment, he just... was. He was Advik, and he was this man's moon.
Seeing the dazed recognition in Advik's eyes, Shaurya's own composure wavered. He reached out a hand, not to touch, but as an offering. "You... are Advik," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "My Advik."
The sound of his name, spoken with such possession, such devastating familiarity, shattered the momentary peace. The floodgates of a forgotten past, of five thousand years of separation, rushed towards Advik's conscious mind.
"You... what are you saying?" Advik stammered, his hand flying to his temple as a sharp, psychic pain lanced through him. "I... don't understand anything... I..."
He stumbled forward, instinctively moving towards Shaurya, towards the only anchor in his suddenly spinning world. But his human heart, his mortal mind, could not contain the onslaught of his divine soul's memories. The world tilted. The stars above blurred into streaks of light.
"Shaurya..." he whispered, the name a ghost on his lips, a key turning in a lock he never knew existed.
Before his knees could buckle and he could hit the cold marble, a blur of silver moved. With a speed faster than lightning, Shaurya closed the distance. His arms, strong and sure after millennia of battle, caught Advik effortlessly as he collapsed. He gathered the unconscious prince against his chest, one arm supporting his back, the other under his knees.
He looked down at the face, so peaceful in its faint, yet etched with the ghost of their shared anguish. Bending his head, Shaurya pressed his lips gently to Advik's forehead, a tear of his own finally escaping and falling onto the prince's skin.
Without a sound, he lifted Advik and carried him from the moonlit rooftop. He moved like a shadow through the silent corridors of Vasant Mahal, his divine presence making him invisible to the night guards. He entered Advik's chamber, a room that smelled of sandalwood and night-blooming flowers, and laid him gently on the soft silken bed.
He pulled the covers over him, tucking him in with a tenderness that spoke of countless nights of longing to do just this. He sat on the edge of the bed, his own heart aching with a mixture of joy and fresh pain.
For a long time, he simply watched Advik sleep, memorizing the face he had waited for through an eternity. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and placed his palm on Advik's forehead, a gentle, healing touch.
The moment his skin made contact, a soft, golden light emanated from his palm and enveloped Advik's head. In his state of unconsciousness, Advik's features relaxed further. His lips parted.
"Shaurya..." he murmured, the name clearer this time, filled with the subconscious recognition of a love that even amnesia could not erase.
And then, as the golden light faded, he fell back into a deeper, dreamless sleep, leaving Shaurya alone in the quiet room, his hand still resting on the forehead of his moon, the echo of his name hanging in the air—a promise and a beginning.
The past had reached out and touched the present. The flashback was not just a memory; it was a tidal wave waiting to crash, and its first drops had already begun to fall.
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Chapter End :
He had found him, touched him, heard his name on his lips once more. But as Shaurya sat watching over his prince's peaceful sleep, he knew the fragile peace was an illusion. The first memory had broken through. The dam was cracked, and soon, the entire ocean of their past would come flooding back—and neither of them knew if Advik's human heart could survive the deluge.