Burnt Spring

iv. burning pain

Istustaya had made the two wounded souls assemble.

"Inanna has made some improvements. I think you two should spend some time together. Seti needs to walk now and make use of his muscles."

"I am so grateful that you think I can finally use my feet."

"Not alone though, as you may understand. Inanna will help you."

Istustaya left the two. Inanna had brought a thick wooden stick for Seti. "Here, this will act as some support."

Inanna looked away while handing him the stick. A faint blush crept up her cheeks. Seti craned his head to take a look of the sight.

"Are you alright?" he asked, examining the support.

Inanna suddenly came back to the present. She cleared her throat. "Yes, I am. Let's go."

Seti spread his arms. "I am depended. I can't walk alone."

The shine of her eyes scintillated as the rays got filtered through the windows. She went back to Seti and took his hand, keeping it on her shoulder while she wrapped her arm around him. With little steps the two went outside the house.

Seti realised he was witnessing the outside world after many days. He hadn't stepped out for so much time. The fresh air that wafted to his nose carried the scent of myrtle, mint and exotic flowers. It purified his whole body, as if providing him a new life. Sparrows fluttered their wings and flew in the azure.

Seti found himself praising nature. He had always been fond of the golden sands, of rocky battlefields, but this was different.

"Winter is leaving," Inanna said. "A new cycle shall begin."

Seti heaved a sigh. Newborn perils in his life had blocked the welcoming of spring. Alas, the woman who could have been his cool breeze in a hot summer day, or the patter of rain in drought, his very spring. . .

"I have lost a lot, Inanna." Seti's eyes wilted like a sunflower at night. "I don't know if the happiness that is thriving around me can melt my hardened heart."

Inanna smiled. "However beautiful may be one's home, if the soul isn't at peace, it feels like war."

"I don't hate war. It gives me thrill. It is the duty of a warrior like me. But my aversion is politics– the cold edge of its cruelty, the heartless rules of the game."

Inanna kept mum. They were now standing beside a little bubbling stream. Seti leaned against a tree, inhaling the fragrance of petrichor. Last night it had been raining. 

"How did you come here?" he asked Inanna.

She looked at him from the corner of her eyes, walking with her back towards him. Her hair bounced with the song of the wind. She plucked a little white flower from the bushes. "I had also jumped in the river, like you."

"To escape something?"

"Hmm, a burning pain."

Seti's brows creased. He looked away from her, his gaze shifting to the childish stream. Had she meant something deeper or literal?

Or both?

His heart thumped. He searched for some recognition in her.

"I feel I have lost a lot too. I have lost a part of myself. I have transformed," Inanna said. "What I can pray now is, whatever happened, occurred for the betterment of my life."

Inanna stared at Seti. He returned the attention. In silence they studied each other. Inanna had a lot to say but couldn't, and Seti had a lot to ask but didn't have the courage.

The warrior had never felt so weak.

****

Seti had gathered a stool and sat near the window, watching the crescent moon playing hide and seek with the gray clouds. A cool breeze soothed his healing wounds. He had a letter in his hand– one of those many that Neferneferure had written him. With a doting smile on his face he read.

"Dear Seti,

You know, I have stumbled upon a painter. No, he isn't my next lover, don't worry. He used to serve in your brother's court. Now he has been sent to us. I asked him if he has seen you. He told yes, several times! Thus I bribed him, a huge sum it is, to paint me a portrait of yours. Ah, now I will be able to see you before you can see me.

I know it's different to touch and feel a person, to taste their lingering smell and feel their breath on your skin, but a portrait has such a memorable quality to it that cannot be resisted. It is also a luxury, I feel, and as a princess I am entitled to it. Will you also commision a portrait of me to be made and keep it above your bed? Ah, I shall be so happy if you do! More than gold and lapis lazuli this gesture shall win me. Not that I hate gems, you can gift me ample of it.

Do you think me to be too bold and vain? Or perhaps snobby and self-absorbed? I am a little proud, yes, I think everyone should be. But don't get me wrong– I am not a spoilt princess. But if you wish you can make me one, as your beautiful wife.

Well, I shall wait for your letter. This is the only way we can talk. I can't believe I am liking you through letters even before meeting you physically! I think love is strange and human connections are unpredictable. Delicate bonds are created by odd times and situations.

And ours is one of a kind.

Your beloved wife
Neferneferure."