Nasatya stood against the rail on the quarter deck, under the shadow of The Great Swan's mizzen sail, letting the breeze tug at his silver hair. Below on the main deck, Lord Manu was consulting with some of the ship's crew. They belonged to Saudipta's naval force, almost fifty healthy men, all expert sailors with a knack for wielding various weapons.
Rebha's small troop of forty soldiers was on board, too, and so were the squires to the knights, servants of the royal household, cooks, and two scholars from Saudipta's court. Aside from that, Nasatya's entire company was here, twenty-five of them. Altogether it was a large party hundred and fifty men strong.
The Swan had not soared through the clouds yet as the king had promised. It was drifting by the gentle waters instead. Before Nasatya, the sea was a vast expanse of blue, still as a thought and endless as time. He could taste the salt in the air, even without the sprinkle of the waves.
On the western horizon, the auburn sun looked like an immense ball of fire, cheery and playful, flirting with the tranquil waters. That must have been the most peaceful of times in past several weeks. Yet, Nasatya was restless, as if he had swallowed all the waves, and now they were somehow rippling in his chest.
"Families make the best companions for long journeys, don't they, dear brother?" Darsa came up behind Nasatya, like a shadow creeping up. A strong smell of lavender tickled Nasatya's nostrils. His mood quickly soured, but Darsa kept going, paying no notice to Nasatya's long, worn-out sigh. "And long it will be. How many days has it already been? Seven? Ten? And still no sign of the legendary serpent. This better not be a fool's errand, brother."
"It won't," Nasatya said, irate. It was a noble mission. If the other party failed to find the Book Of Asura, all hopes of the realm's survival rested on the success of this journey. But truth be told, past several days, Nasatya's eyes anxiously searched for a stir, something on the surface of the deep blue ocean that would give them hope.
Darsa leaned against his brother, his bright yellow silk stole caressing Nasatya's skin. "Why did we come here on this banal search?" Darsa drawled. "They never show concern for our welfare, come to us only when it suits them. Yet, we bow to every demand they make."
"It was a request," Nasatya stopped him, "and we are the Eternal Saviors. It is our duty."
Darsa scoffed. "Eternal Saviors," he repeated with mock. "Perhaps we should have given up that title after mother's death. The realm does not deserve our kindness, dear brother." His tone had changed from scorn to bitterness.
"I will consider that once we have finished this business," Nasatya lied to shut Darsa up, already wary of his brother's complaints.
He felt Darsa's eyes on him, watching him with a cynical silence. "Do not amuse me with your weak, little lies. The gallant, kind Ashwin Nasatya would die before he turns away someone in need. You relish these adventures, brother," Darsa patted his bare shoulder, "especially if you have a desirable company."
Nastaya heard the tease in Darsa's voice and flashed him a look full of reproach. The men aboard were too close to them, some within earshot. "Quiet!" he hissed, "have you forgotten your manners?"
Darsa smirked, his amber eyes grinning with mischief. "Manners? When did I ever have any?" He slid an arm around Nasatya and pulled him closer, "Do not misjudge me, brother. I am thrilled that you reunited with your lover. Perhaps, I should also have brought along a lover or two."
Nasatya felt his cheeks redden with fury, but he decided to meet his brother's slanders with nothing but silence. The less he protested, the sooner the idiot would get bored with the subject. Nasatya stared off into the quickly dimming horizon, instead.
"Perhaps one of Saudipta's queens, seeing he has little use of them these days."
Nasatya swallowed the comment like it was fire.
"I am sure he would not protest or even notice. Poor little creatures, promising their life to a man who would rather go on a deadly quest than share his bed with them."
Nasatya could not ignore the jibe anymore. "You must have no regard for your tongue, Darsa. I swear if you say one more word, it would be the last thing you say." He did his best to keep his voice between the two of them, but the rage was rearing and lashing inside him.
Darsa giggled. "This is a slight banter of siblings, dear brother." He then put both arms around Nasatya and held him tight in a vice-like grip. "Why must you take every word to heart? Remember, brother, no one would love you the way I do, not even your special friend."
Nasatya's anger was quickly melting away, leaving him tired and numb. He let Darsa crush him with his brotherly hug. Things were always so easy for Darsa, to hate, to love, to curse, to embrace. Nasatya envied him for that. They were twins, only moments apart, yet he was the grown, mature one, shouldering most responsibilities, so Darsa could be spoiled and vain. Still, there were times like this when Darsa would be a child again, filling Nasatya with melancholy and despair. He would almost believe Darsa's sweet, loving words.
"Remember brother, we only have each other," mumbled Darsa, his soft wet lips brushing Nasatya's cheek.
How could Nasatya forget the memory of those words, something he himself had whispered to Darsa centuries ago, over the drumming of the rain, on a dark, stormy night, hiding from the enemies in a den. Darsa was a child, terrified, shaking with sobs, sure they would die. Nasatya gathered him in his arms and murmured those words to him over and over again until it was dawn and the sun had come out.
Now, when Darsa said those words to him, he was that child again.