Exactly one month after that historic chapter in the Yordil Mountains, Barzak and Bahar set sail along the deep southeastern seas—where the lost nation's existence sleeps beneath the waves.
Night.
Tonight the moon seems softer than usual.
A boat… no, better said, a magical ship—its wings shaped like conch shells spread wide, cutting through the black expanse of the ocean. Behind it, silver droplets scatter.
Amid those droplets, light falls, slowly merging with the sky, becoming stars.
The sea tonight is abyssal, silent, dark—but not frightening. Rather, enchanting.
At the head of the ship sits Queen Bahar.
The sea breeze lifts her azure gown. Her hair flows in the wind—thick, dark, as if it has become part of the night itself.
The moonlight falls on her eyes, and in them rests a shadow of some unknown joy.
The glow in her eyes is as rare as pearls hidden in the ocean's depths, giving her face an otherworldly radiance.
Bahar is not just a queen, she is a sublime creation of Ar-Rauf himself. Her silent presence calms and captivates the entire surroundings.
Suddenly, Barzak appears behind her. He wears a thin linen shirt, blue in color.
First, silently.
Then slowly, he comes closer and sits down right beside her.
A moment of quiet passes. Only the sound of the waves.
Not silent—waves speak a little.
The wind whispers.
And somewhere, a white bird flaps its wings.
The couple, both over thirty, gaze toward the horizon, enraptured by a scene beyond words.
Barzak speaks in a low voice,
"You know, Bahar… I can fight. Countless battles. I can even smile before death. But today… in this moment… sitting beside you makes my heart race."
A smile spreads on Bahar's lips—as if a secret note of some hidden melody; slowly, it drifts into the air, and its invisible warmth enchants the mind, burning gently.
She grips Barzak's hand firmly, as if all the refuge in the world rests in her fist.
Barzak looks at her without blinking. He leans toward Bahar. Their shoulders touch.
The sea breeze strengthens just a little, sending Bahar's hair brushing against Barzak's face.
Barzak stops. Eyes closed, he feels the touch of her hair.
Bahar slowly leans toward Barzak, resting her head on his shoulder. The warmth of her forehead touches his neck, and for a moment, the ocean's waves seem to freeze, the wind to still.
Bahar's lips move ever so slightly—
"Alright, Barzak,"
she says, resting her head on his shoulder, her hair cascading along his neck,
"What if we left everything behind and sank into this sea?"
Barzak pauses for a moment, looking at her, a faint, irresistible curve forming at the corner of his lips, and says—
"Then the sea would become our home."
As he speaks, he entwines her hand in his fingers, gently, as if handling something fragile.
Bahar lifts her gaze slightly toward him, soft moonlight in her eyes. She smiles just a little—
"And the waves?"
Barzak presses her hand to his lips, then slowly traps that gentle warmth with his fingers, saying—
"Your breath."
After these words, a subtle silence falls. Somewhere, like tiny bells in the air, something jingles—perhaps the distant broken stars walking along the sea.
Bahar leans closer again, this time her lips very near Barzak's ear—
"And the moon?"
Barzak ran his fingers through Bahar's hair with one hand, as if losing himself in that thick, heavy hair. Then, very slowly, in a deep, resonant voice, he said—
"Your eyes."
This time Bahar laughed softly, a little startled, and her cheeks turned red. Her nails gently pricked Barzak's chest, in a soft, playful tease. Then she asked again—
"And the sky?"
Barzak now turned fully toward Bahar. In his eyes was a terrifying gentleness, the kind of gentleness perhaps seen in lovers who have returned from battle. He touched his forehead to hers and said—
"Your hair."
Two foreheads pressed together. Bahar's breath was so close to Barzak's lips that even the words seemed to melt. Suddenly, Bahar asked—
"And me?"
At this question, Barzak's lips trembled. Holding her face in both hands, he remained silent for a moment—then only the water, the distant sway of the waves, and the heartbeat of their two hearts could be heard. Then he said—
"You?…You are the home whose key I have found after all the battles of my life.
You, Bahar, are the story—written by Ar-Rauf just for me."
After saying this, their foreheads joined fully.
That magical night, in that moment, seemed to freeze.
The sea swayed slowly, in rhythm.
Moonlight melted over their bodies.
The stars descended slightly in the sky, as if to witness this love.
The silence was such—
as if the entire world was holding its breath, only to hear their conversation.
The ship carried them toward an eternal dawn of love.
The eyes of the sea creatures now shone bright—they seemed like witnesses.
In one moment, Barzak pulled Bahar close to his chest.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
As if the slightest touch could break them, or awaken the sea.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. Small, but in it… was everything.
The ship kept moving.
Moonlight descended. The stars in the sky, the waves of the sea, the scent of the wind… all seemed to pause for these two souls' love.
And then…
A wave struck the side of the ship, splashing water… and the spray landed on their faces.
Bahar made a small sound in irritation, "Hush."
Then.
They looked at each other.
A moment later, they laughed together.
In that laughter…
There was love, there was peace, there was eternity.
In that moment… there was no kingdom, no politics. Only the two of them—on a magical ship, cutting through the sea, heading toward love.