Ishyank is seated in the temple, the sun shone through the upper part which exposed the sky, the sound of music and dance being performed in the background by the other Gandharvas. Yet Ishyank could not be bothered by his brothers, they weren’t his actual brothers but he considered them as such.

He was seated on a golden throne, large and glamours in the center of the temple, playing his sitar, The throne was not his but rather a gift from the devas to he and the rest of his brothers. As calm as he may seemed, he was anxious on the inside. His love had not yet returned and he began to grow worried as the sun shone brighter and brighter.

The sound of footsteps awoke him from his trance, He looked up from his instrument and let out a breath he did not know he had been holding. “There you are!” He called to them, his gaze softening. He stood up and walked towards them. “Where have you been, I was worried… Was this another one of your adventures?” He asked, his tone chiding as if he spoke to a child, which is how he felt sometimes with how reckless they could be in his eyes, he stepped back and crossed his arms.