The Shadow of Fate

A Watchman's Burden

The princess emerged from the secret tunnel, her brow furrowed in confusion as she glanced around the courtyard, searching for the servant who had guided her back. But to her dismay, he was nowhere to be found. Unbeknownst to her, hidden among the shadows, Dagohan and Maragtas observed her return with keen eyes, their presence concealed behind the cover of a towering tree.

Dagohan gestured silently to Maragtas, drawing his attention to the princess. "Look closely, Maragtas," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the rustle of leaves. "She is the one you are sworn to protect, the princess whose life is now entrusted to your care."

Maragtas nodded solemnly, his gaze fixed on the young princess as she disappeared into the depths of the palace. Unexpectedly, the princess seemed more fragile and lonely than he had anticipated, intensifying his genuine desire to protect her. A sense of duty settled over him, mingled with a faint twinge of apprehension at the weight of the responsibility that now rested upon his shoulders.

In the days that followed, Dagohan took Maragtas under his wing, teaching him the art of stealth and subterfuge with the skill of a seasoned master. Together, they ventured into the labyrinthine corridors of the palace, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls as they practiced the delicate dance of secrecy and surveillance.

One day, as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the landscape, Maragtas ventured near the palace grounds in search of food. He made his way to a nearby village, his steps light and purposeful as he approached the orchard, his gaze fixed on the ripe fruit hanging from the branches.

But as he reached out to pluck a juicy apple from a low-hanging branch, a chorus of mocking laughter shattered the tranquil evening air. Maragtas froze, his heart sinking, as he turned to see a group of children, almost his age, gathered nearby.

"Look at him! He's a monster!" one of the children jeered, pointing a finger at Maragtas with a cruel sneer. "Ugly and hideous, just like a beast!"

Maragtas felt a surge of anger rise within him, his fists clenching at his sides as he fought to maintain his composure. "Leave me alone," he growled, his voice low and menacing as he glared at the children.

But his words only seemed to goad them further, their taunts growing louder and more vicious with each passing moment. "Monster! Monster!" they chanted, their voices echoing in the stillness of the evening.

Unable to bear the humiliation any longer, Maragtas's patience snapped. With a swift motion, he drew his sword from its scabbard, brandishing it menacingly as he advanced towards the children.

"Get out of here before I make you regret it," he warned, his voice laced with fury as he towered over them.

The children's eyes widened in fear, their laughter turning to panicked screams as they turned and fled, scattering in all directions as they ran for their lives. Maragtas watched them go, his chest heaving with exertion as he sheathed his sword and turned to leave.

But his relief was short-lived, for he knew that the children would not keep their encounter with him a secret. Sure enough, within moments, the village was abuzz with rumors of the "monster" who had threatened the lives of innocent children.

Angry voices filled the air as the parents of the village took up arms, their faces twisted with rage as they searched for Maragtas, intent on avenging their children's humiliation.

Maragtas knew that he could not stay, his heart heavy with the weight of their scorn. With a heavy sigh, he slipped away into the shadows, vowing never to return to that village again.

From that day forward, he wore a mask that concealed half of his face, his scars hidden from the world, as he sought to protect himself from the mockery of others. And though the children's laughter still haunted his dreams, he remained steadfast in his resolve to fulfill his duty as the princess's watchman, his determination unwavering in the face of adversity.

More years of training passed, and when Dagohan felt that Maragtas was finally fully prepared and ready to be the watchman of the princess, he bid his farewell. "Remember, Maragtas," he said, his voice tinged with sadness. "Even a watchman is not allowed to see another watchman. You must now continue your training alone."

With a heavy heart, Maragtas watched as Dagohan disappeared into the shadows, leaving him to continue his solitary vigil over the princess. From that day forward, on his own, he watched her from afar, his presence hidden in the shadows as he kept a vigilant eye on her every move.

Meanwhile, the princess remained unaware of the watchful gaze that followed her every move, her thoughts consumed by the loneliness that weighed heavily upon her heart. As the daughter of the Rajah, she lived a life of privilege and luxury, yet beneath the surface, a sense of emptiness gnawed at her soul.

Her father, the Rajah, treated her with cold indifference, his words like daggers that pierced her fragile heart. He blamed her for the death of her mother, his beloved hara, and his resentment festered like a wound that refused to heal.

"You are a disappointment, Jamira," he would sneer, his voice laced with contempt. "A weakling, unworthy of your mother's sacrifice. I should have known better than to expect anything from a useless girl like you."

These words are often heard within the palace walls, and each word struck Jamira like a physical blow, leaving her wounded and alone in a world that offered little solace. Yet, despite the pain of her father's rejection, she remained strong, her spirit unbroken by the weight of his disdain.

Jamira harnessed the pain of her father's hurtful words to fuel her inner strength, striving tirelessly for his elusive approval. Determined to rectify any perceived flaws, she devoted herself to embodying the ideal image of a perfect crown princess in her father's eyes, tirelessly endeavoring to earn his longed-for acknowledgment.

As the years passed, Maragtas continued his solitary vigil, his heart heavy with sorrow for the lonely princess trapped within the gilded cage of her father's cruelty. He witnessed firsthand the harshness of the Rajah's words and the neglect that weighed heavily upon her fragile soul, and it pained him to see her suffer in silence.

Despite her tough exterior, Maragtas knew that the princess was not as strong as she appeared, her heart breaking with each harsh word and every cold dismissal. And as he stood watch over her, he silently vowed to protect her from harm, to shield her from the pain that threatened to consume her fragile soul.