The hero of vengeance (season 1)

Once upon a time, there lived a kind-hearted king. As age caught up with him, he realized it was no longer possible to bear the heavy burden of ruling a vast empire alone. Therefore, he decided to divide his kingdom equally between his two sons.

Although the king's decision brought joy to everyone in the palace, it ignited a fierce fire of resentment in one person's heart—the Prime Minister. Standing behind a pillar in a corner of the royal court, the minister smiled wickedly. He whispered to himself, "Divide it, Your Majesty! Divide it as much as you please. While these two foolish princes are busy with their own shares, the entire empire will fall right into the palm of my hand."

Finally, the auspicious moment arrived. The entire palace was adorned with brilliant lights and a festive spirit. Amidst the thunderous applause of the subjects, the king announced the names of the two new kingdoms—'Lauhakhut' and 'Chhayapalli'.

The responsibility of Lauhakhut was bestowed upon the elder son. This part was blessed with a stroke of good fortune, as the empire’s main capital and the grand royal palace fell within Lauhakhut. Naturally, the elder king’s power and influence remained slightly greater than the rest. On the other hand, the younger son inherited 'Chhayapalli'—a serene, green, and picturesque region. The two brothers happily accepted their father's decision.

But alas, the cruel irony of fate! Just two months after the division of the kingdom, the king fell gravely ill and became bedridden. His breaths grew heavier by the day. When urgent messages were dispatched to the two brothers living in their distant realms, they dropped all their work and rushed toward the palace on horseback.

The thundering sound of horse hooves pierced the air and shook the earth, but no one can run faster than the wheel of time. By the time the two brothers entered their father's bedchamber, panting heavily as they passed the main palace gates, a profound silence had enveloped the room.

The old king lay on the golden couch; his eyes were closed forever. His chest was no longer rising and falling.

The elder brother sank to his knees before his father's lifeless body, his broad shoulders trembling with sobs. The younger brother tightly clasped his father's cold hands in both of his own and wept bitterly, crying out, "Father! Open your eyes just once! Your sons have arrived!" The echoes of his cries crashed against the walls of the entire palace. With the demise of the father, the skies of both kingdoms seemed to turn pitch-black in an instant.

With the flow of time, the clouds of sorrow eventually cleared. A year later, passing the shadow of grief, a wave of joy swept through both royal families. In the palace of Lauhakhut, a beautiful baby girl was born—she was named 'Meherin'. With her arrival, the elder king's household was now bustling with the lively presence of two sons and a daughter.

At the exact same time, the Queen of Chhayapalli gave birth to a radiant baby boy. The King of Chhayapalli named his second child 'Ariyan'. This Ariyan is the main protagonist of our story. Feasts were held and sweets were distributed across the realms to celebrate the birth of the two children. The subjects believed that these days of happiness would never end.

In the blink of an eye, nineteen springs passed away. Ariyan grew up to be a handsome, gentle youth with enchanting eyes. Rather than wielding a sword, he preferred tending to the flowers in the garden or reading old, dusty books in the library.

One morning, a royal messenger arrived at the court of Chhayapalli from the capital, Lauhakhut. The messenger carried a letter bearing the royal seal. After reading the letter, the younger king walked into Ariyan’s room with a worried face.

"Ariyan, my son," the king called out in a soft voice.

Ariyan looked up from his book, "Yes, Father? Is something wrong?"

"A summons has arrived from the military academy of Lauhakhut. According to the laws of our realm, 'military training' is mandatory for the children of the royal family and the ministers. You must learn the art of defending the kingdom from enemies."

Ariyan’s fair face turned pale in an instant. The mere thought of swords and bloodshed made his stomach churn. In a calm yet firm voice, he said, "Father, warfare only means violence and blood. I have no desire to ever become a killer. I do not want to be a part of this fighting and conflict. Please do not ask me to go."

The king sighed deeply and placed a hand on Ariyan's shoulder. "I know you love peace, Ariyan. But peace cannot be protected without power. Moreover, this is an absolute rule of the kingdom. If you do not go, your uncle's honor will be compromised. Why not learn the art, if only for your own self-defense?"

Faced with the yearning in his father's eyes and the unyielding laws of the land, Ariyan's gentle heart eventually gave in. Reluctantly, he set off for the capital.

Upon arriving at the capital city of Lauhakhut, Ariyan was dazzled. Huge mansions and sheer grandeur surrounded him everywhere. He proceeded straight to his uncle’s royal court. The elder king was seated on the grand throne. Ariyan stepped forward gracefully, bowed, and said, "Assalamu Alaikum, Uncle."

The elder king embraced Ariyan with a warm smile. By then, princes from various kingdoms, generals, and high-ranking ministers had gathered in the court one by one. While the surroundings murmured with chatter, the gatekeeper suddenly announced in a loud voice: "The pride of Lauhakhut, Princess Meherin makes her grand entry into the court!"

Upon hearing the announcement, all the young princes and guests turned their eyes toward the door like thirsty birds waiting for rain. But Ariyan? He kept his head down, mindlessly playing with the ring on his finger. He had no interest in any of this.

As Meherin stepped into the court, the rustle of her silk attire and the clinking of her jewelry enchanted the royal chamber. Beholding her exquisite beauty, everyone present forgot to breathe for a moment. Meherin walked with a proud, elegant stride, casting her eyes over the crowd. She noticed that while every eye was blinded by her beauty, a young man standing in the corner remained completely indifferent—as if Meherin's charms could not touch him at all. A strange curiosity and a slight sense of pique arose in Meherin's mind.

After she took her seat, the elder king called Ariyan and said, "Meherin, this is Ariyan, your younger uncle's son. He will be staying in the capital from today."

Ariyan looked at Meherin. There was no infatuation in his eyes, only pure courtesy. Folding his hands, he said, "Assalamu Alaikum, honorable Princess."

Concealing her curiosity, Meherin offered a gentle smile and replied, "Wa Alaikum Assalam. How are you, Ariyan? And how is everyone doing in Chhayapalli?"

"Alhamdulillah, my family and I are doing well. Thank you," Ariyan replied briefly and stepped back.

Just then, the voice of the gatekeeper echoed once again: "Prince Jafar and Princess Nila from the neighboring kingdom are entering the court!"

Receiving the king's permission, the heavy wooden doors swung open. Prince Jafar entered the room alongside Princess Nila. The moment Nila stepped into the royal chamber, a sudden gust of sweet breeze blew through the window, gently lifting the strands of hair across her face.

Ariyan, who had been completely indifferent to the world until now, suddenly found his eyes locked onto Nila. Nila's innocent gaze, the faint smile at the corner of her lips, and her serene aura sent a strange tremor through Ariyan’s heart. Time seemed to stand still. Ariyan could not look away. With just one fleeting glance at the princess, his calm mind was swept away by a tide of unknown emotions. He realized that perhaps, it was for this very girl that he had come to the capital!

After that, Prince Jafar respectfully handed a letter to the King.