Haimavati
The rays of the setting sun streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling window, with dust particles floating in the beams. The world in the early evening was laden with silence and the only heart beating inside the chambers was hers.
Haima sat reclined, head laid on the top of the chair. Her unseeing eyes stared blankly up at the roof, vision blurred and camouflaged with moisture. There was difficulty swallowing. She knew her spirits were low. The state of raw abandonment and the feeling of loneliness were compromising her sanity. This loneliness was new, something she hadn't felt before. Not even when her mother died and her father sold her off for a pitiful amount of gold and silver. Her eyelids fluttered shut, trails of tears coarse down the sideways of her temples. Was she going to be a lonely queen with all lost fortunes for the rest of her life?
Maybe this was a temporary phase. Maybe her children would come back to her someday. Maybe Endira will need company someday and reward her with a new start to a friendship. Just a little more wait...maybe.
Boom!
Haima jerked her eyes open. Black smoke swirled inside her opened-door chamber, with a stench of burnt flesh sweeping over. Singh appeared from behind the smoke, walking slowly and authoritatively, for the very first time. His muscles shifted from shoulder to shoulder. He seemed unhealthy, eyes wide opened and glossy. Something did not look right. Haima sat up straight and frowned at the cuts and bruises on the sides of his body. There were gruesome black burnt marks on his limbs. The ends of his mane were scorched and as dark as ash.
Singh stood in the middle of the chamber and said, "He is in my realm."
The news came as a violent blow. Haima slowly stood up, burning rage hissing through her body. Windows shattered and hot air bellowed in with a snarling yell. The ground gave a fierce budge. Fragments fell scattering the width of the floor, and shone against the shadowy floor as though stars in the night sky. Wrath consumed her, engulfing every fiber of her being. With Endira gone, Almourah gone, Lady Chandrika's deceptions, and even her children abandoning her, this dreadful news made her forget all boundaries of loyalty and morality.
Enough is enough.
The thought riled her up. She had always been on the other side of the endless loop, but now it was time to leap. "Singh, answer my question," she said. "How important is it for you to have a master?"
"As important as rays are to the sun and waves are to an ocean," he said, his voice strong and the way he worded sounded like the piercing force of a sword's swing. "A Constellia is meant to be an extension of Samagraha. There is no meaning to a Constellia without a Samagraha. Together, we are kindred for life. We believed in Lady Chandrika when she promised us a better life, a great life. But now..." he faltered, his shoulders broadening.
"But?" Haima asked hoarsely. "Say it."
Singh hung his head down and turned away. But he did a bad job at hiding his despair, at hiding his miserable deposition. Some things could never get past her. His eyes weren't just glossy, they were brimming with tears. "You've always spoken of how I deserve a master who doesn't drown me in tears of frustration but makes efforts to wipe them away. I want that master. I want the one who gives meaning to the name the Fire of Vengeance."
Haima let out a sharp breath. "That is possible only if..."
"Seven of the First generation Samagraha are already dead," he said. "Five more to go. Almourah is killing humans and these Samagraha are only watching him do so. They are of no use to this country anymore, Milady. And I'm ready to see them all perish for good."
The situation weighed on her conscience but she knew in her heart that there was no other way to keep herself defended. With the invention of the Gates, Lady Chandrika proved that she could go to any lengths to make Yajna an absolute. She had the tenacity to outstrip her in terms of using the abilities of the Fire Spirits. She did not care if Lady Chandrika killed her in vengeance anymore. If that was written in her fate, then be it. Parthiva was in the final realm now, the final stage to achieve his ambition. Her self-control was already lost, and with Singh by her side, her aggression was only near destructive.
She sat back down and picked up two diamond-shaped boxes, the Samavek, from the bottom drawer and placed them on the table. She pushed one of them towards Singh. "You know what to do."
---------------------------------
A wolfhound howled.
Haima expanded the immensity of her powers to listen to the call.
After a daunting embark on footslog across the forest of the Dakshinpur, the sound of the howling wolfhound brought her to an abandoned tunnel underneath a hillock. She was still somewhere in Dakshinpur, on the outskirts of Madhyakshetra, that much she knew. But this place, this tunnel...hadn't it been a homeless shelter for decades?
Singh continued trudging down into the tunnel that snaked away eerily into the darkness. He lit his paws and the brightness ripped through the tunnel. The call was still there, navigating both of them further deep inside. The tunnel was filled with stagnant water and contaminated sewage. The deeper they went, the more rancid the smell became. Singh grumbled under his breath, while Haima pulled the veil of the saree and covered the lower portion of her face. How can anyone in their right mind live in this dumpster?
The howling sound deadened. No matter how much Haima surged her power, the call was as though there had never been one. Intrigued, Haima and Singh took a quick further hike up the dirt path until the location made sense. Singh suddenly flicked his Formation off and that helped them spot a soft ominous glow casting a shimmering slick across the wall of the tunnel. Haima plodded towards the glow and figured that it was coming from behind a huge rock covered with moss and creepers.
With all her strength, she exerted pressure. The rock slid aside making a jarring sound echoing all around the tunnel. Concealed behind the rock was the mouth of the cave-like den. Before she stepped in, she used her magic to shield herself to not let Kshaturya penetrate her mind.
"Mark my words, Kanya," came a faint gruff voice from somewhere inside the den, also the pitter-patter sounds of the sparks. "A day will come when everyone, literally the entire world will rely upon our Formation like they do on food and water. It's just a matter of time. Isn't our Formation a miracle? A mystery?"
There was a typical giggling sound of Kanya, and then silence.
A couple of wooden torches with burning fire were hung on the walls and a straight walkway in the middle of the rocky den made it easier for the guests to walk right into. At the far edge of the wall, surrounded by a few silent and unstirring wolfhounds, Haima spotted the two seated on the ground deeply engaged in talks. One was Kanya, holding her red rose in one hand and another atop the shoulder of the very Samagraha Haima had been avoiding meeting in her absolute best for years.
Kanya spared a glance aside and sat alert. "Milady!" she gasped.
Kshaturya casually turned around. The corners of his mouth twisted. "Well, well, well, look who's finally here."
"That's right," Haima said, walking a bit closer. "You win."
He looks ghastly, and she gawked. His traumatic life had taken away the usual luster from his eyes. They were soulless and shrunken making him look like a skeleton. His face bore weathered scars and beige skin peeked from his torn clothing. The immaculate mage with the capability to venture through a medium did not deserve such hard-knock life.
He stood up and ran his hand over his head to smooth his shoulder-length tangled messy hair. In the process, a chain around his scrawny neck fell out of his robes and swung across his collarbone. The chain showed more visibly with the shiny Green Stone dangling about. It twinkled in the glow of burning flames as if it knew that it was the substance for the night.
"Winning is always more important than taking a stand," he said. "Especially in Paramarashtra under your rule."
"Maybe that's why I'm here. Maybe I'm using all force possible to ensure my victory, and let you have the taste of it as well."
He smiled. "Late, but I'm ecstatic that you've understood my reasons to take this extreme step no matter how pathetic they seem to be. You should have come to me years ago Haima, and saved yourself from the torment that does not justify."
"I was only observing the golden rules your mother had taught me."
"But nothing came to fruition. People find it hard to realize that my mother is wrong, always had been. Anyway, I'll send my Constellia away if you do yours."
Singh tapped his front paws gently against the floor and grunted staring in the direction where Kanya stood.
"Singh is my friend," Haima said. "Not my Constellia. Besides, it wouldn't be fair if I don't let him stay as my defense. Considering you have both magic and Formation, while I only have the magic."
He smiled. "Your beauty and brilliance never fail to startle me even after years of our acquaintance. I can see why my brother's so deeply fond of you." He then nodded at Kanya. She bowed, holding her rose against her chin, and disappeared from the den. "All of you, get out!" he ordered.
The resting wolfhounds stirred up as if waking from deep slumber and slowly changed their shapes. They reformed into humans, both as men and women, their clothes magically cladding around them. Strong, dirty, and full of dreadful greasy hair. They looked like those uncivilized primitive people. They slowly walked past their master and Haima, giving her snarky stares.
"Let's go straight to the point," Haima said, as soon as the rock closed shut behind them. "For some reason, you've relied upon me. You know that my ability to stop and start the time will easily fetch the stones for you, and I obliged to your demands. But if I give the stones to you, once this is over, you will never call me again for another round of partnership. You will never use my magic for your own good. You will leave me alone from hereafter. Because this is absurd."
Kshaturya took a moment. "Don't worry, Haima. I have no interest in torturing you nor keen on showing sadism like my dear siblings. I am not one of them. Once this is done, you and I will part ways. Now, give me the stones." He outstretched his hands, desperation clear in his voice and expression serious.
Haima blinked. Is that all? No witty comeback? No hurtful remarks? Nothing at all to put me down? Why does this feel so new and baffling? "Cornelian first," she said, frowning deeply and readying herself for his disapproval.
"They both have betrayed me in equal parts. Doesn't matter who comes first. Bring it."
Such permissive in nature, she swallowed nervously. With an empty ache in her heart, Haima pulled the box hidden under her veil and surrendered it to the other mage. The red shimmering stone rattled inside, struggling to sneak out like a butterfly from a cage. Kshaturya grabbed it in a hurry with one hand and removed the Enemy Stone with another. It may have been the sound of the cracking fire as the temperature in the den plummeted to some extent.
Singh let out a faint roar and made a slow advancement toward the box to get hold of the stone before it escaped. As Kshaturya cut a vein, Singh looked away from the act of vileness that he was now a huge part of.
We're both part of this, Haima gulped down the strangled fright clogging her throat. People may or may not know in the future, but the truth was that they both occupied a prominent, most infamous place in the history of the country. A shower of self-critical thoughts began to cascade down upon her which she couldn't turn away from.
What was the difference between her and Parthiva? They'd both participated in the crime to be guilty. They'd both murdered the esteemed Samagraha of the generation. They'd both crossed the line to tip the scale in their directions. A lonely queen she was until this morning, and now she'd sunk too low to put an end to this war once and for all. Perhaps the citizens were right about her all along.
A tiny streak of blood on Kshaturya's wrist dripped its way down to the ground. That made her feel less desperate and less stressed. It's over. Singh stepped away from the Cornelian and the jabbed stone lay dismissed on the floor, out of the box and out without an owner. It was done, and there was no going back. Haima sighed, accepting and savoring the moment. The precious freedom that she had attained, was now her all-time fortune. She realized that the war wasn't about winning or losing anymore. It was all about gaining peace.
"Now," said Kshaturya, unabashed, his voice like that of a guiltless murderer. "Give me the Emerald."
Haima's heart constricted. She tightened the grip against the other box hidden under her veil. "Would you listen to me for a moment before you kill your only remaining brother?"
His jaw tightened. "Do not double-cross me now, Haima."
"No. I just want you to listen to me. Then the choice is yours." She removed another box and held it up to herself, only projecting it as a mark of assurance.
He said nothing but merely stared at her and the box with Emerald rattling in it. The Enemy Stone clutched in his fist drowned more and more in the leaking blood, a small red pool forming beside his leg.
"If you assume that Makara doesn't know about the stone being abducted then you're unmindful," Haima said and keenly observed his frown and lips slightly parting. "Yes," she continued. "Bhagwad himself handed me over his stone. Meaning, he handed himself to you. Not because he is scared or likely to admit defeat, but because he genuinely believes that this gesture would make you agree to a truce."
"Truce?" he scoffed. "This is only an act, a temporary label until he figures a way to possess double kinetic power. Haven't you learned anything, Haima? None of my brothers and sisters are what they appear to be. Do not believe them."
"In that case, I shouldn't be believing you too."
His face hardened, eyes wide.
"How would I know that you will not go to your mother or Panchayat and blow the whistle on me?" She paused and noticed his face scrunching up in perplexity. She took a few steps towards him before saying, "Kshaturya, I do not want to be your partner in crime anymore, but I can be your friend. And trust between friends must be a two-way street. If you want me to believe that my secret is safe with you then you have to leave it to me to end this feud between you and Bhagwad. You both are brothers. Neither of you has caused that much of a hassle to deserve death so early. If you cannot love each other, then at least fall apart and let each other live."
Singh gurgled and began walking past Haima. He did not seem interested to stay underneath a hill anymore.
"Alright," Kshaturya said. "One chance. I will give him one chance only. If he breaks his promise, then I'll have to hold you responsible. I hope you prevent this friendship from getting ugly."
Haima smiled. He does agree too quickly like no other. It was a pleasure seeing him. It was a pleasure to have a Samagraha who knew the prospects of improving relationships. Too bad he was a murderer now, and worse that she could not take him back to the Panchayat and give him a decent standard of living. She reached for him, Kshaturya wearily eyeing at the approaching hand and she tapped him once on the shoulder. "You're good man," she said. "Farewell."
Haima turned around and took a few strides away from him following Singh towards the exit. In the process, she removed the lid of the box and the Emerald rattled once and twice before escaping from its captivity by dissolving in the thin air. Bhagwad, it worked.
"Wait," Kshaturya said. "There is something you need to know."
She looked back at him, curious and bemused. The flames in the torches flickered oddly.
"I regret withholding this information. Apologies. I should have conveyed the consequences before I jabbed the Cornelian," he said, face dripped in slight contrite. At the utterance of the word Cornelian, Singh turned back too and held his gaze up at the Opal user. "Haima, you did a grave mistake. You shouldn't have walked through Yajna at all that day."
Haima couldn't ignore the hesitancy in his way of speaking. "There's nothing to worry about. Now that he's dead, Yajna will forever be incomplete."
"No, you don't get it," he said, and gently scratched his forehead. "I had one of my spies follow Lady Chandrika every day and night for my own benefit. I knew you had Naag put behind her for the same purpose, but he's unsuccessful. Unlike Naag, my spy got to listen to Lady Chandrika speak with one of the members of Panchayat. There it was revealed that Yajna may have failed to seal your fate with my brother, but it did work to some extent."
Her heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean? How much did it work?"
"Did you know that the tension between Lady Chandrika and Lady Drishtika did not really end with your intrusion? Did you know that my mother is keen on inventing a human Third-Eye?"
A rush of adrenaline filled in her veins. "What are you talking about?"
"Haima, listen to me carefully..."
Every single piece of information that Kshaturya fed her was dropped like a massive explosion in her heart. The heat rose inside the den by the force of her uncontrolled emotion. Rage building up like a deep-water current, a wicked tornado. This war wasn't over with Parthiva's death, this will never be over. Lady Chandrika had set in a full-scale conflict with her that wasn't justified. She will always be Haima's cause of great distress. Betrayal after betrayal. Haima balled her fists. It was unbearable to handle the amount of hatred towards the older lady. It wasn't only Haima feeling resentment with Kshaturya revealing the secret about Yajna. A frazzled Singh took a bent a little as if struck, and let out a loud tremendous roar. The entire den's foundation shook with the impact of the deafening sound.
The murder that Haima thought would be the end of her trauma, had now become instead the beginning of the most consequential chapters of her future lives with other generations' Cornelian users. Poor, poor Singh.
"Kshaturya," Haima growled. "I've murdered once and I'm ready to do it again." The opal user, having his hands sparkled with lightning watching Singh's savage reaction, jerked back at her. "I take my words back," Haima said, her vision blurring with a mist of anger. "I need your partnership and further assistance in murdering your mother. She shall rot while living and die a slow painful death. Help me invent a deadly virus."
-x-