On the darkest days of winter, the stars seem the brightest. The cold air makes the eyes smart and eyesight somehow sharper, once you've wiped the tears away. Jahangir knew this. He told his grandson to watch his step as they made their way across the vast blackness that was the frozen river.
In a different lifetime his father had be called Great and his son had watched his last days drain away like the waters of the river that separated him from the tomb of his beloved. Or so they said. But here and now the sky was mightier, the people beneath it, less ignorant of their station.
The distant fires in the sky slowly turned in their cold sleep. Some even more distant ones woke up in an instant of supernova brightness to begin their journey into the farthest reaches of the universe. A universe where things weren't meant to come together, to stay, they were meant to go forth and discover.
The large cat, nigh invisible with its velvet coat the colour of midnight, bared its sabre teeth and waited for the conqueror of the world to step into a trap of ice and claws.