Chapter 36

Several weeks had past and the grief they felt still suffocated them. It affected Pagan most. He refused to speak with anyone and remained in his office. He almost never slept and when he did it was from his drunken stupor. Liquor had become the primary supplement of his diet. Ishwari had attempted multiple times to reach out to him, but it always ended up with him asking her to leave. Eventually Ishwari gave up her efforts and accepted that this was just his way of mourning.

He hadn't been himself since the incident, but things really changed on the day they placed Lakshman's remains in her forever resting place. Shanna had kept her word and cleaned the small child up. Ishwari and Pagan were able to view their daughter one last time. She was clean and smelled of lilac. She wore a beautiful white dress and simply looked at peace.

Ishwari knelt next to the bed Lakshmana's body rested on. She took hold of her tiny hand and began weeping. She felt a firm hand grasp her arm and was slowly pulled into Pagan's embrace. He held her closely, still not saying a word, but letting her know that he was there.

Later in the day, Shanna had once again reclaimed Lakshmana to prepare her for cremation. That night was the hardest for Pagan and Ishwari. Knowing that they would never see her again. They had used a beautiful urn that had been passed down in Pagan's family. On it was a simple peacock, the Min family symbol. Ishwari and Pagan both walked into the small building just outside the palace. It was previously used as a place for landscaping equipment until Pavel and Shanna fixed it up. Now it was filled with flowers, bells, and incense. Pagan's favorite portrait of his late daughter hung on the wall. It's large size making it the centerpiece of the room.

Pagan placed all that was left of his daughter on a stand that sat in front of the painting. He knelt down beside Ishwari, both bowing their heads. They sat in silence, respecting Lakshmana's new home. After some time, Pagan finally spoke. "This entire country has always seen me as a monster." Pagan stood with a look of vengeance that was almost frightening. "Now they've got one." he said before exiting the shrine. That was the last time Ishwari saw any trace of the man she loved.

Executions had been the first demand of Kyrat's new provoked king. Being in the early stages of mourning, he hadn't executed anyone personally. For the time being, he simply gave the order for his soldiers to shoot any golden path member that was discovered along with their families. Ishwari was thankful she hadn't had to witness any of the killings. She desperately wanted justice for her daughter, but she couldn't help but be unsupportive of killing innocent women and children.

Everything seemed overwhelming the days after and the king's sister didn't help matters. "This is your fault." Yuma would inform her every time they'd pass one another. "He used to be stronger than anyone. Now, now he's just a broken man. A shadow of his former greatness."

Yuma would bore those words so often; they began to stick with her. The more she heard them, the more she believed it. Everything that happened was a result of her choices. She couldn't help but wonder if Pagan too blamed her for the death of their daughter. It had been so hard to read any emotions he was feeling, especially when he had been secluding himself day in and day out.

Ishwari took a deep breath as she stood outside his office. She had been residing in one of the guest rooms, wanting to respect Pagan's wishes of not being bothered. She hadn't seen him in days and she couldn't handle him refusing to communicate with her. She needed to know how he felt and was ready to attempt reaching out to him again. Slowly, she opened the door. The room was a mess. There were multiple trays of food sitting on his chair's side table and on the desk, none of them looked like they had been eaten from. Books were scattered and ripped apart and there were shards of broken glass all over the floor. She found him sitting at his desk, his head resting in his hands as he stared down at a cherished picture of Lakshmana. Beside him was a glass of scotch, fuller than the near empty bottle sitting beside it. His hair was ruffled and he smelled of liquor and sorrow.

"Pagan..." Ishwari said quietly. He made no movement. "Pagan, please talk to me." Still, she received no response. She started moving towards him, carefully stepping over the objects that lay on the floor. She knelt beside him and rested her head on the arm of the chair he sat in. "I don't know how to help you."

"Tell me where he's at."

Ishwari looked up at the sound of Pagan's frail voice. He still hadn't moved, but she did hear him speak.

"You know where he's hiding." Pagan finally raised his head and looked at her with tired eyes. "Don't you?"

Ishwari's lip trembled and she couldn't find her voice to answer him.

Pagan scoffed and placed his head back into his hands. "If you don't want to tell me then don't, but that's the only way you can help me."

Ishwari was finally able to say something. "Do you blame me for this?"

He let out a sigh. "Ishwari, please leave me be. I just want to be alone."

She hesitated. For just a moment longer she wanted to take him in. She wanted to pretend he was still her king. Finally, she stood and exited the room, neither of them saying another word to each other. She was able to stay composed long enough to make it to the guest room she had been staying in. Upon shutting the door, she pressed her back to it, sliding to the floor before she became undone.

Pagan knew her better than anyone, of course he'd see right through her. She did in fact know where Mohan was. The home they had lived in after their marriage had only been known to them. A secluded little homestead atop a southern mountain. Mohan insisted keeping it a secret after half his soldiers turned and slaughtered their own during Pagan's uprising. He never knew who he could trust.

Ishwari desperately wanted to give Pagan Mohan's location, but she was overwhelmed with fear. She feared that if too many guards showed up at his location, then Ajay would be put in danger. Mohan knew this would be how she'd react. That's why she was so sure he'd be there. Safe in his little home, knowing she would be too afraid to retaliate. She wasn't about to lose the only other child she had left in this world. She tilted her head up, resting it against the door as she wiped her tears. What kind of world was this anyways? She shouldn't have lost her daughter and she shouldn't have to fear for her son's life. She thought long and hard about her options, before concluding what had to be done. Kyrat would always be home, but it would never be safe. As long as she lived there, she would always have to live in fear.

She waited until midnight, hoping that gave Pagan enough time to drink himself unconscious. She was careful to make sure no one was in the hallway as she made her way towards his chambers. She slowly opened the door and peered inside his office to find him in the same spot at his desk. This time however, his head laid on the brown oak as he was passed out. The once full scotch glass still clutched in his hand, not a drop left in it.

Ishwari frowned. No matter how badly she wanted things back to normal, they would never be the same. The man she once loved was now an empty shell. She proceeded through the office, into his bedroom. It too was in shambles. Regardless, Ishwari stepped around the mess and reached the closet. She grabbed a small duffle bag and began filling it with enough clothes to last her a week. Once she felt satisfied that she could get by with what she had, she went to her nightstand, opening the top drawer and reaching towards the back wall of it. There she had taped a small card. The business card that Willis Huntley gave her many months ago.

She closed her eyes. She needed to convince herself that she was really doing this. Finally, she opened them and picked up the old phone that sat on Pagan's stand. Reluctantly she pressed each number in correspondence to what was labeled on the card. After a few rings it stopped. The noise revealed that someone had answered, but yet no one spoke.

"I'm looking for Willis Huntley." Ishwari informed the quiet stranger.

"Who am I speaking to?" A voice asked curiously.

Ishwari swallowed. "Ishwari Gahle."

The mysterious person's tone perked up and Ishwari was finally able to recognize that it was Willis himself she was speaking with. "Well, hello dear."

"I have the files you asked for." She told him, eager to get to the point.

"I see. I'm going to assume you're not going to just give them to me out of the good of your heart." His American accent was distinct. "So, what do you want."

"I want a plane waiting for me at dawn at the southern Kyrati airport."

Willis chuckled. "And where will this plane be taking Mrs. Gahle?"

"America." Ishwari said, this time with confidence. "I'll also need you to set up a living situation once I arrive and help my son and I acquire citizenship. Can you do that?"

"Does an eagle represent freedom?" Willis laughed when Ishwari had no response to his comment. "Bring the files and the plane will be waiting."

With that, Willis hung up, seeing no need to further the conversation. Ishwari replaced the phone back on the stand and looked at the clock. She wouldn't have much time and she knew she needed to hurry. Quietly, she re-entered Pagan's office. He still hadn't budged. She carefully pulled back the painting to reveal the safe Pagan kept hidden behind it. Entering in the combination, she opened it and reached for the folders that had Willis' files. She added them to the duffle bag. She also added her newly made passport. Inside the small booklet was the plane tickets Pagan had purchased. They were finally going to go to England, that was before their daughter was murdered. They had originally planned on celebrating Lakshmana's first birthday there.

She glanced back up at the safe and stared for a moment before reaching in and pulling out the hand gun. She had never actually fired a gun before but she used to watch Mohan intently back when she desperately wanted to be part of the fight. She hoped that she'd be able to manage it if she did in fact have to use it.

She closed the safe and replaced the painting back to it's original position. 'Now for the hard part.' she thought to herself. She turned and faced the sleeping king at his desk. She couldn't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes, knowing her heart would never stop aching for him. She calmly walked over and stood beside him. She lightly ran her fingers through his unwashed hair before kissing his forehead.

"I love you." She whispered.

"Ishwari..." He mumbled in his sleep, stirring ever so slightly but still remaining comatose.

She gave him a sad smile and placed a folded up note next to him, along with one of her most cherished items, the pen she used to write the letters that helped start their love.