To all the dreamers, this one's for you. To the ones who cry under the tap, to the ones who wish upon the stars, keep hoping. You never know when the universe will listen to your whispers.

Stuttered by the world’s expectations,

The little girl was weighed down by the blasphemous atrocities of the world.

To the stars, she conspired the breath of the galaxies,

To the skies, she filled the air with purity and innocence.

She lived in her dreams, which were the reason she felt alive.

And to her mother and father, she was their pride.

This is the story of a girl with dreams in her eyes and wishes to touch the skies.

A girl whose dreams were once shattered and torn apart by the shady truths of the deception,

But she was no ordinary girl; she was a warrior who wore her scars like war paint.

Chapter 1

The beautiful sky adorned itself in the moonlight as the stars felt alive in the presence of the iridescent heavenly body. Norway danced in the colours of its beauty, dipping it in the radiant cacophonies of dazzling melodies of their goddess coming to visit their home.

Aurora, the goddess of the northern lights, graced everyone with her presence every night. It was pitch dark as the sky was about to sleep, and every villager waited to bless their eyes with the presence of the eternal enchantress.

The villagers waited for hours, and yet there was no sight of the eternal deity. Most of them abandoned the idea of the deity’s sight, but Sia, a fourteen-year-old, waited for the goddess. Hours passed, and the sky blossomed at midnight, and death laid its icy hands on the scanty warmth that was left for the little girl.

As she stood there alone, she looked up and whispered to the stars. Stars, if you are listening, please tell the goddess to visit me. I want to tell her about my family; I need her help.

And zup!

There was a sudden strike of lightning and bam, the goddess appeared.

Sia was stunned, and tears welled up in her eyes.

As she saw the ethereal being before her very eyes.

Sia mustered her courage and treaded her steps towards the goddess.

Aurora, as she stood on the winged chariot, wearing her green layers of clothing that waved an aura of elegance, grace, and ethereal serenity. The time came to a standstill as the goddess embraced the little girl. Wiping her tears, she replied. ”Dear Sia, my lovely child, don’t be afraid of what lies ahead, for time is a rite of passage. A passage from darkness to light, from love to hate, from dejection to a ray of hope.

Whenever you feel the hammered wheeling of time has plonked you into an eternity of darkness, remember life is a chariot; the chariot is driven by time, so if the wheels are stuck in the penumbra of hopelessness, remember to hold on to hope. The ray of hope will guide you to the right path.

And have faith in the universe, for it listens to your whispers.

Sia sobbed with a heavy heart; her eyes throbbed with dejection as she heard the goddess.

Sia painstakingly replied, “My family is on the brink of ruin.”

Aurora replied,” I am aware of your circumstances, my love.”

And yet you are telling me to keep hope, instead of helping me out.

Sia blurted out in anger.

Aurora smiled and said, “Let me tell you a tale, the one that answers all your questions, the one that answers what destiny holds for you.”

Chapter 2

The magic that your heart beholds,

Let it flow, for the first time in forever.

You will set yourself free,

And embrace the power,

That you uphold.

Aurora smiled at Sia, who looked intently.

The tale starts when a young girl not more than your age falls into the trap of the unknown.

Sia looked perplexed at the goddess.

Aurora continued, There was a village in the far lands of Finland where beauty herself resided.

In the heart of the valley and the soul of the mountains resided a beautiful village named Amourella.

It was named that because it was believed that the dawn cracked its very first crackle in the village.

The land was blessed with enriched soil, good food supplies, and enough resources to sustain an eternity.

But as a wise man, nothing lasts forever, and every beautiful thing in this world has a dark side to it.

So did this village.

Sia, intrigued by the story, asked, “What was the darkest secret of this village?

Step by step, word by word. Syllable by syllable

I will unearth the story that encompasses the land of Amourella.

to the plight of my misery,

I found my love in erratic ecstasy.

The village was known for its beautiful landscapes and picturesque sights.

Iraya was the youngest girl in the village and was the most beautiful girl in the village.

The tales of her beauty and wit went far and wide.

She was not only known for her beauty but also her generosity and kindness.

The world regarded her as a glass of porcelain, dainty and pure.

Iraya belonged to the most influential family in the town; her father was the mayor of the village.

She was the eldest daughter of the clan, and she had two younger sisters.

But with every aspect of beauty comes a light of darkness.

The darkness that surmounts the depth of beauty.

Chapter 3

Iraya was thirteen, and her fourteenth birthday was approaching in a few days.

It was the ritual of her family to visit the temple of Arindelle, her mother’s native place, on their respective birthdays.

Following the ritual, Iraya went to Arindelle on their birthday.

As she travelled in the darkness, looms of darkness covered her chariot.

Her mistress and her younger sisters were afraid of what was hovering over their chariot, but Iraya knew it was nothing but the godly spirits who protected her from the evils of the world.

She ordered the horsemen to stop, and she stepped outside the chariot. To her astonishment, as soon as she set her foot on the grass, there were showers of lightning all over, and the chariot lost its way into the darkness. Iraya was blinded by the sight and fell unconscious. As she woke up, to her astonishment, she awoke in the temple of Arindelle.

The same temple of Arindelle, which her mother so ecstatically narrated about. Her mother told her that the temple of Arindelle was cast upon a spell by the deity. And she didn’t exactly know about the spell, but her mother knew one thing she told Iraya.

Only a true soul with a pure heart could see and witness the breathtaking beauty of the temple. As Iraya went forward, the door of the temple remained shut. Iraya could hear her heart pounding, but curiosity was the bane of her existence.

Grasping to her courage, she touched upon the gate of the holy place. As soon as she came in contact with the door, the temple doors opened. The night was falling on her shoulders, spirits of air, water, earth, and fire surrounded her shield. Marching forward, she was in awe of the beauty that was surrounded by.

Encircled by the waterfall on one side and the mountains on another, she gaped at the grace and elegance of the place. Moving forward, she stood at a standstill as there was a door that yet remained undiscovered. The door had a question that needed to be answered; the question read itself.

You shall think about me at every noon,

For I am ahead of you, and when you embrace me,

I shall be gone too soon.

Perplexed and confused Iraya could not fathom what the answer was. But as she held herself, diving deep within,

Her heart answered. She repeated the answer aloud: It is the future. The door opened, and it led to a beautiful chamber. The chamber was filled with riches, jewels, diamonds, and rubies. Iraya was no ordinary girl to be swayed by these materialistic things of mortality.

She was attracted to the depth of life, something that cannot be replaced, that cannot be snatched from you no matter what games anyone plays. Show her your dedication, and your love towards her that cannot be tampered with by evil monsters like envy, insecurity, and doubt. As she marched forward, Iraya saw a beautiful painting that portrayed a deity with a wand in her hand and a handsome man next to her. Iraya gazed through the picture intently; to her astonishment, she found a note on the base of the painting.

“To the one who reads this note,

You are the future of this anecdote.

Iraya grew anxious and started questioning the note in her mind. There was a shower of lightning again, and she fell unconscious again. When she woke up, she found herself back in the chariot. The mistress told Iraya that they found her unconscious inside the chariot itself when they were all searching for her. Iraya jolted in her seat and thought to herself, Was this all a dream? She reached Amorella, and festivities began. It was her birthday, and she felt bittersweetness towards it.

Though she was merry, a sense of uneasiness twitched in her heart. The entire town thrived and blossomed like a new rose flower out of its bud. Everyone was happy except for Iraya. Her parents loved her dearly but failed to notice the pain inside their beloved daughter’s eyes.

Iraya talked to her mother after the party. Her mother replied, “You had a beautiful dream. Iraya, don’t overthink it. Iraya knew in her heart it was not a dream. Days passed, and Iraya’s restlessness grew stronger. The nights grew longer, and her anxiety threatened the very existence of her being.

Chapter 4

As she walked her way to the village school, Iraya’s teacher noticed that she was restless. She asked her, “My dear child, what is wrong?” Where has your smile vanished? Iraya narrated the entire incident to her teacher, and she knew her beloved student was not lying.

Iraya asked her teacher,” What will my future be?”

She replied,” Whatever the future will be, it will be; it is not ours to see.” With tears in her eyes, Iraya embraced her teacher, for she knew she had someone who would not judge her and invalidate her experience. Sometimes all we need is a ray of light from the end of the tunnel to know that there is light ahead.

That hope lies ahead.

She returned with a smile on her way back from school. For now, she believed in herself; no matter what the future held for her, she would not give up. As she returned home, her mother was crying. Seeing her mother cry, Iraya ran towards her mother to see what was going on. Her mother embraced her child and apologized for not believing her.

Iraya smiled and told her mother there was no need to apologize. She asked her mother, “Why did you believe me now and not earlier? Tears welled up in her mother’s eyes once again. She mustered courage and told her daughter, “There is something I need to tell you.” Her mother stood up and took Iraya’s hand with her. They went to Iraya’s room, where her mother kept a box.

The box had a similar pattern to the door of the temple. Iraya, though agitated, did not show it in front of her mother. Her mother removed an ancient scroll from the box and handed it to Iraya. The scroll had a picture of a crown and a ring and had a message.

Whatever our souls are made of, yours and mine are the same.

Iraya’s mother told her, This is the ancient scroll of our family that was passed down from generations. No one has ever opened this box, but when you were born, the priest told us that we would open this when we cross thirteen years of age. You are the chosen one by destiny, my darling. You are destined to be the faith of many.

Iraya was held aback by her mother’s words; she asked her mother how she could be the chosen one. Her mother replied,” This is your fate, Iraya, the one God has chosen for you. Just have courage and look within for answers. And whenever the world tears you down, come to my embrace.

Iraya went back to her room and started writing in her diary. When the night climbs over my window and peeks into my room, I find my solace in the darkness that ices my wounds with traces of serenity that we all so long to find. I embellish my sense of being in silence,

As the unknown calls for me.

The hammered wheelings of time can turn even war into peace and peace into war.

A poem gives us hope to fight the hammered wheelings of time.

A quest for purpose I am set on

I set on a journey

A journey into the unknown

Shuddered by the fear of a debacle,

I was agonized by the sound of self-doubt.

It symphonized like the sound of air.

Bleating like a drum

A drum of despair

Reverting within the very essence of my being

I no longer found anything fulfilling.

There were days when I didn’t want to wake up.

Where I wanted the nights to last forever

There was no joy in any of my .endeavours

The sky through blue looked like a black cloud.

I wished it would rain like a storm every day.

To pour the ocean out

Everything just turned into a shade of grey.

The colour of hopelessness hoped for a permanent stay.

Life is like a colour palette.

Every colour in the palette has a different story to tell.

A different picture to paint

And in life, every day has a different colour to color us with.

Happiness paints us with a moment of sunshine.

Sadness leaves with grim and whine.

But often we forget that we are the painters of our life.

The masters of this strife.

Then the sky embraced its resilience and kissed the mighty blue.

Though it was a time I never wanted to remember

Now I yearned to make my every desire come true.

The universe is like an echo.

If you shout about misfortune and lack

It manifests and returns it.

Feed yourself with optimism and authenticity.

Let the chapters of your life belong to the book called Love.

Were not the magic of love but the medicine of self-love

Heal your soul.

As the words poured out of her heart, she felt a sense of ease and held onto faith.

Chapter 5

Thou shalt be tested,

Challenged in how strong your faith is rested.

The turmoil you face binds you to this strife,

Hold onto faith, and you hold on to life.

Iraya jolted from her bed and sat on her bed.

Her room was beautifully decorated with white and European marble. It was coloured in the hues of blue and violet. The beauty of the room was mainly adorned by the star-shaped chandelier that represented Alpha Centauri, the constellation of the seven stars.

Her mother opened the door and told Iraya, Today is the ancient festival where their holy deities are worshipped. Iraya smiled and said,” I remember, Mother; I am aware that I have to perform the ritual. Iraya dressed up for the occasion; she wore a black gown and matched it with white shoes.

She really looked like a goddess herself that day. Iraya and her family went to the holy temple of Amorella, where the ancient festival was being held. Merriment was in the air. It was as if joy was overflowing from the gates,

But ahh,

The sneaky master, the stellar of the universe, called none other than fate. It couldn’t bear for everything to remain the same, so it changed its game. Little did Iraya know the darkness that life would show.

Iraya went ahead, performing the ritual in her flare,

Unaware of the blasphemous stare.

As she performed the ritual, her family was away performing their rituals.

While chanting the prayers, the piousness of her heart,

The faith she had in goodness was torn apart.

In the manoeuvre of time, the priest laid his dirty hands on her. Iraya stood immobilized as she couldn’t recognize what was going on. The priest laid his dirty intentions on her and scarred her for life, and as her parents arrived, he went away. Iraya couldn’t recognize what happened to her. Was it her fault, or were his intentions a slur?

As they reached home, she bathed herself in the essences of the holy river but felt tossed into the dirt. Iraya went out and talked to her mistress, as her mother was out of town with her father. Her mistress told her you did the right thing, as he was a man of authority. Iraya felt a sword rendered in her dignity.

Without speaking a word and with tears in her eyes, she rushed outside. Looking up, she wanted to be engulfed by the wind. She wanted to drown in the stars but couldn’t. As she looked into the sky, she hoped for a reason for her existence to pass by.

Her face was covered in anger.

That day she made herself a promise.

In this patriarchal world filled with forgery,

She would let no one close to her.

Faith is something still held onto.

But the idea of finding love she would bury,

As love was now no longer a part of her story.

She vowed to dedicate her existence to her purpose, to her family.

Chapter 6

Sia had tears in her eyes as she heard the story progressing. Aurora replied, “My dear, good people have to pay a far higher price for being noble than wicked souls have to pay for being bad. She continued the story. Months passed by, and no one ever saw Iraya smile. Iraya went to school and came back. At home, Iraya indulged herself in studies and writing. One fine day, her mother asked Iraya, My dear, why are you not happy?" Why is my beloved daughter not chirpy like she used to be? Iraya could only reply, “Mother, maybe I need a change of scenery.” Her mother replied,” Why don’t you go to your aunt's place in Arindelle? Iraya said dryly,” As you say, mother. Mother knew something was wrong, but she knew her daughter was strong. The next day Iraya left for her aunt’s place. Her aunt was a gracious lady who loved Iraya dearly.

She reached Arindelle, and her aunt held Iraya to her bosom. Iraya was stoic, and her aunt could contemplate that something was wrong. She asked her,” Why is my beloved daughter so gloomy today? Iraya replied,” Aunt, I am really tired. Can I rest in the room?”

Her aunt replied,” Yes, my dear.” Iraya went to her room and started writing. Insurmountable pain daggered her heart. She was constantly at war, though we lived happily inside her. Fed with love and care. She walked with an ocean of warmth, a blanket of life that embraced you with serendipity. Euphonious charms adorned abundantly in her radiance. But the forest she was surrounded by was dense. Dense clusters of uncertainty covered her way. And oh, her eyes.

Silent whispers reflected the pain she felt. Her eyes were like magic weaving through poetry.

Eyes that cried an ocean of tears Eyes that beheld the ripple of fears. We, her spirits, her soul, and her conscience. Before our very eyes. Saw her swimming for the shore where peace lies.

Though she faced disgrace. The world called her an epitome of eloquence and grace.

This is me; this is you.

To the people who never stop smiling.

To the ones who put on a brave face

To the ones who have heard, this is just a phase.

We are in this together!

We wish to hide, to hide in a place where the world ends.

Where the rainbows glow in their light, where the horizon bends.

To be coloured in the hues of happiness that never fade,

To be loved by the love we are so afraid of.

She closed her diary and went down for dinner.

Her aunt told her that she was visiting the village tomorrow.

Iraya agreed to go with her.

Chapter 7

Time is a rite of passage. A passage that plonks into misery or turns your melancholy into merry. Iraya and her aunt went to the village museum. The museum was filled with artefacts and statues of their ancestors. It had paintings of their ancestors, kings, queens, and other nobles who ruled the kingdom. As Iraya walked further, she saw something and jolted to the ground.

It was the same painting that she saw in the temple. The same king and queen stood in the portrait. But this time there was a message that was written on it.

To the one reading this,

I know tenderness is something you deserve.

But life has made you preserve and persist.

It has made you cry, shed tears, feel unloved and unworthy, and made you give up.

Given you all the bunches of storms and not one ounce of love.

You felt the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Clothed in patriarchy

Embosomed by hatred and a conflicted mentality

Not a soul left with originality

They are called the norms.

The unions the world forms

Armed with criticism for unconventionality

And in love with the forged reality

Lamented lies and tales of the untrue

Bleating like drums of animosity, dear society, is it you?

Why do you look at the world with the convoluted reality

And why are we humans not treated with impartiality?

Humans are torn pieces of the fragmented universe that want to fit in.

When all we are taught from our childhood is to stand out

The duality of the world is what the society embraces.

Anyone aside from the race the world disgraces

We are all a bunch of fools too scared to show our broken hearts.

And I’m writing this not in search of a greater tomorrow.

But a safe place to live in

Where honesty and true joys are the lessons the society imparts

I am writing this letter to you to tell you that yes, the world around us is bad.

But that does not mean you sour your originality.

For you are the future of us.!

Iraya called for her aunt and asked her to see the message; her aunt told her she could not see a thing. Frightened, she asked her aunt about the portrait, and her aunt replied. These were the king and queen of Arindelle; they died because of a shipwreck. Iraya asked about their family.

Her aunt told her they have two sons; one of them is ruling the kingdom, and the other vanished since the death of their parents. Iraya could no longer contain herself and went outside to get some fresh air. As she marched her way forward, she recalled everything that happened inside the museum.

To the plight of her misery,

She was the one who unveiled this chapter of history.

.    .    .

Disclaimer: 

This is an ongoing story. I am still in the process of completing this novel. I invite you to join me on Iraya's Journey and unveil the legend of the Aurora Borealis (The Mesmerizing Northern Lights).

Awaiting your views.