Haimavati
Little rivulets of wetness ran down Haima's temples. She croaked and moaned, feeling her head heavy and eyelids weighted with rocks. The subtle awareness of who she was returned with the flowing thoughts of the strained connection to her waking life. The aroma was fresh, unlike the last she remembered, fresh like the early morning air blowing in her garden. There was a gentle brush of hair against her cheek. She unfurled her lids anyhow, and the image of a huge lion's face staring down at her appeared.
"Singh, you came." She tried to smile, her heart filling with contentment but also sorrow as her voice did not penetrate. Her stomach growled. She was exhausted and famished, so much so that she thought she'd be driven to insanity. She held her stomach, the gnawing pangs of hunger slowly increased with her growing awareness, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. Haima was about to fall back into another state of unconsciousness.
"Milady, here," Singh said and pushed a ceramic bowl toward her.
The bowl was stuffed with brownish liquid broth and aromatic herbs which made the dish more exciting. Haima at once picked it up and held it high, closer to her mouth. Her mouth burst with rich and savory flavors. She wolfed it down, feeling ecstatic with her insides reloading with energy.
Something twitched. And it was then Haima noticed that at a little distance away from her another woman, probably mid-thirties, was sleeping soundlessly on her back. Her face gleamed with sweat and her skin green and blotchy, her lips slightly parted and her mouth emitting a long streak of drool. There was a suppressed exclamation of pain, and her chest rose and fell heavily. What's going on?
"Milady," Singh called her back and turned his head pointedly aside. "There's someone here to see you."
Haima jerked her head aside. Amidst all the autumn foliage, another Constellia sat by a staggering waterfall. His pot floated on a pool of water containing numerous blooming lotuses.
"Kumbh?" She whispered, confounded.
The Constellia did not spare a glance but had his hands caressing the ripples in the water as though taking pleasure in it.
Haima frowned and took a look around the strange place. The last she remembered was the grisly closed room bearing blood and floating mist. She remembered Parthiva's voice tormenting her day and night. But this current place seemed unnaturally beautiful, to the point that it scared her.
Wide and open, the place was surrounded by colorful trees and thickets of beeches. The fiery brilliance of their leaves was a sight- scorching oranges, blistering browns, and molten reds, with sun rays peeking from between them casting shadows on the pond. There was a typical power in the tranquility, as she sensed in her veins, even with the gentle roar of the streaming water. Haima looked above and found herself seated in a domed shelter intricately designed with glass and timber. The shelter was seemingly in the middle of a recreational area.
She sought Singh's attention and pointed at the place. She tried giving wild gestures with her free hand asking her whereabouts.
"Sahasra El Sayed," he said, thankfully understanding her inept signs. "She brought you to this place. And Kumbh gave me the directions to meet you here."
"Sahasra?" Haima gaped.
The sound of the footsteps, muffled and barely audible, came from behind her. Haima turned around and from the long passageway a woman, with a sharp-angled warmly expressive face, strode towards her direction. Wearing a milky white floral embroidered saree, and her long hair side swept, and braided with white flowers and beads. She came closer and sat down on the floor beside Haima. A small chain stud Aquamarine across her throat twinkled like a star. There was a small smile tugged on her face, but Haima noticed the fresh tears glistening in her red eyes and dried tears had left white streaks on her cheeks.
Kumbh walked over and stood behind his master, carrying the pot of water firm in his hands.
Sahasra held her thick braid and gently ran her fingers. "Beads look good on me, don't they?" she asked, her voice delicate and chiming musically. A thick tear fell on her lap. "Helps my hair glisten with lustrous shine and gives lightning glow to my skin, right?"
Singh grunted, scratching his face with his paw.
Haima hesitatingly went ahead and held Sahasra's hand. She tried surging her powers. "I haven't seen you in a long time," she said, energy flowing. Sahasra's hand quivered, sitting up straight, her expression clearly stating that she was able to listen to Haima's voice in her head. "But you haven't changed since the last I saw you," said Haima. "Sahasra, how are you..."
"My mother's dead," she interjected, and another tear fell. "Let's try not to share fake pleasantries, if that's alright with you. It will only make me want to suspect you more."
There were signs of warning in Sahasra's tone. Haima loosened her grip, swallowed, and gave a nod. "Why did you bring me here?"
"To talk, silly," she said, half-chuckling. "But before anything, I want Singh to leave. This is the place for beauty and grace only. I dislike having scary beasts around me."
"Singh will stay," Haima said, decidedly. "Protection is the policy. But if it helps, Kumbh and Singh will be on their best terms. I'll guarantee you that he'll obey."
Sahasra fixed Singh with a mildly reproving glance which diluted quickly into a frosty grin. Singh let out a low roar. Flicking his tail, he tramped a bit distance away but stayed within the shelter. He made a roundabout near the entryway and sat down on the hardwood floor, eyes prying at the two women.
Sahasra asked, "So you can still perform magic? Even without a voice. You're a very mysterious mage, Haima."
Haima ignored her. There was no point in piling on the topic when she herself had not yet investigated about from what source her magic was working and to what degree. "You did not answer my question. Why did you bring me here?"
She threw back her veil in an immodest manner before saying, "I thought you'd suffered enough staying in Mother's secret magic room. My mother had it hexed and asked me to leave you there for the rest of your life once you were stripped of your magic. But...I decided otherwise."
"You put me in that room?" Haima asked, aghast.
"And I pulled you out," Sahasra added, smiling and tears intermittently falling. "You aren't used to seeing a tumbler as half-filled, are you?"
Haima's throat tightened with slight nerves frazzling, and she had no clue why. "What do you want from me?"
The grin melted from Sahasra's face. "I thought you should know that I found the cure for the virus that you may or may not have invented."
Haima's eyes widened, a shiver running up and down her spine. "That's impossible."
"I know you'll hesitate to believe in an El Sayed. So, let me stage a demonstration of my newly gifted ability. Kumbh, hand it over to me."
The heavy jewelry on Kumbh's upper body clanged when he rummaged into his pot. Then the water sloshed out as he took out a dazzling golden-green colored double-handed cup. The red carves on it strung together into an intricate design.
Sahasra held it in front of her face, closer to her eyes in a way that her descending tears flopped down into the cup. For a moment, nothing happened. Haima gazed up and down at the cup and Sahasra, her insides gripped by a mixture of anticipation and dread. Then the cup began to vibrate in Sahasra's hands, Haima gasped as she watched the green-colored smoke getting released into the air forming into a dense wide cloud, size enough to fit in the domed shelter.
"Look at the woman now," Sahasra advised. Haima did so and she had to blink twice before staring at the green skin of the woman slowly revert to normal brown. Her head tilted to a side, her body relaxing, and seemed to have drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
The woman was struck with the virus and it was beaten within a snap? Haima felt a sudden tremor in her heart as the very reality of the situation settled down on her. Didn't Kshaturya say that a remedy for it will never be found and that his mother's death was apparent? Did he lie to me?
Sahasra chuckled, taking back Haima's hand that had unknowingly slid down. "Don't worry. My mother is still dead. But I saved the other people who suffered because of it."
"Other people?"
"The virus spreads," she said. "How can a brilliant mage like yourself not know?"
"How did you do it?"
Sahasra, with a showing vehemence, placed a hand against her red bright lip, her face dripping into innocence as her eyes enlarged. "Shhh. It's a secret. Don't ask me how I obtained this ability. But I found the rumor that you've spread around very fascinating. Deity Vrindahina punished my mother for giving birth to her thirteen kids. Really nice. Shows how much you wish each one of us wasn't born at all. So why not turn this rumor into a melodramatic exaggeration? Let's tell everyone that it was the Deity who gifted me with the Cup and the distinct ability." Sahasra chuckled as if the series of events was nothing but some outrageous mischief meant to unnerve Haima. It did unnerve Haima. It was working profoundly.
"And not to mention," Sahasra continued. "Kshaturya is not the only Samagraha who can create the virus. I can do it myself too. In another sense, I'm both poison and the cure."
"Are you threatening to poison this country if I refuse to confess to murdering your mother? Sahasra, you too?" All five of them were so alike, in terms of being driven by their own passion for setting fire to the country. Every time Haima had taken a step to put a rest to this ongoing heat, it only created more scorched wreckage. She was tired, very tired. She chided herself for thinking so, but her existence now seemed meaningless.
"Haimavati Roksana, you're getting me wrong," Sahasra said, placing the cup beside her on the floor. "I did not bring you here to force a confession out of you. That will be of no use to me. My mother is gone. Nothing will ever bring her back. But perhaps I can make you do something that would act as a penance for your crimes."
"I did not commit any crime," Haima said. She wanted to take her hand off, but Sahasra held it tighter. Haima gritted her teeth, a prickle of annoyance creeping up on her.
"You have to listen to me, Haima," she said. "I'm not the enemy. I only ask this as a favor on behalf of this country. You see, only four of the Samagraha are left now. This indicates that this country will be deprived of Samagraha one day. And Kshaturya possibly may kill me before he kills himself. But...what will happen to this country once I die? What about the cure? This virus that is now lurking amongst us."
"Perhaps this virus could be abolished once and for all."
"No, no, Haima. You have been in that room for more than seven days. You do not know how many mages have already learned how to create the virus. Whoever had planned to kill my mother this way had only shown a perfect way to use the virus for illegal purposes. That person did not think through the repercussion, am I right?"
"What are you trying to say?"
"That number of mages to create a virus could be limitless, but only I am the cure. Think Haima, what will happen to this country once I die. Who will cure these virus-struck people? This country will only rot its way back into the woof and warp of the universe. You don't want that, do you? You never wanted that."
Haima scoffed. "Maybe you're assuming it wrong that only you'll be the person to know the cure."
Sahasra touched her Aquamarine. "Does anyone else possess the powers of the stone?"
Haima gaped at her, dumbfounded.
"That's right. The aquamarine's powers are essential for the tears to work. Trust me Haima, I'm not your enemy, nor do I have a reason to lie to you. I am, indeed, the only cure...to this generation."
Haima surged her powers and forayed into Sahasra's mind. All she could see were the flashes of woods and caves, and Sahasra having conversations with people of the suburbs, a tribe full of monks, their appearance unknown to Haima.
She may have not been able to identify how the Samagraha had figured out the cure, but there were surely utmost sincerity, honesty, and total commitment to some sacrifices that had been made to procure the cure. "If the Aquamarine's powers are necessary, that means..."
"The ability involving the tears has to be passed down to my successors with the stone."
Haima breathed heavily. "In order to do that..."
"You have to finish off the task my mother started," Sahasra said, and something in Haima's chest gave a loud sharp tug, her heartbreaking and a colossal sigh followed. "And you have the power to do it. Haima, listen to me. I should be hating you right now for every pain you have given to my mother. You have never tried to understand her earnest foresight in keeping future generations safe from dark magic. Everything she had been doing was for the benefit of this country. Perhaps creating a human Third-Eye was a bit ambitious, but she also gave you the gift of rebirth and relief, a chance to make yourself a better person. Perhaps sacrificing yourself this one time will be a difficult task, but at least think about its significance."
I'm being asked to die. I'm being coerced into becoming Cornelian User's woman of easy virtue.
"And perhaps," Sahasra said. "With Singh's help, you'll find someone who is unlike my brother, who is very much compassionate and respectful, and with the potential to give and take love but without materialistic conditions. Something that most people have to live devoid of."
Sahasra bent her head and wiped her tears, for the very first time. There was a slight sniffing sound and a shake of the shoulder. Haima felt the inclination to bring her closer and give her a warm hug. But didn't she know, that refusing to acknowledge the politicized murder was inexcusable, and that it was dishonest to sympathize with the victims?
"You're aware that once I turn into a Third-Eye," said Haima, "every Cornelian User will die the same way Parthiva did? That every Formation Samagraha will die the same way the rest of the Firsts might? Isn't that the pact your mother made with the Fire Spirits in the creation of the Third-Eyes of the Pancharatna?"
Sahasra sniffed once, wiping her tears, and looked up, her eyes benevolent. "Once again Haima, think about the tumbler as hall-filled. With all the competing voices and different points of view, your own path of making this country a great one is getting crowded out. Let it go, try to reinforce your efforts by thinking about the right thing to do. Isn't that what you have always been teaching everybody? That the right thing is the most ethical thing to do? Besides, if you don't pass down the abilities by taking advantage of Lady Drishtika's spirit, then imagine the deeds of the future Samagraha if the Green Stone never worked. Almourah will reign as another Samagraha if the Pride never worked. This country will die of the virus if the Maiden's Cup never worked." She ran a finger across the rounded edges of the cup. "Yes, that's the name I chose for it. Feels appropriate. Haima, you're known for granting worthwhile wishes, and you see till the end to make them come true. I know you granted one to Endira, and Bhagwad also. Today, I ask you for one. Passing down my ability is my wish. Will you make my wish come true?"
Haima looked aside at Singh. Their eyes met and Haima perceived the extreme repentance, sorrow, and guilt engulfing his being, in the way he sat on the floor quiet and reserved. Perhaps it's better to do it rather than to live in fear of seeing the total destruction of the country. Haima thought, feeling the tiredness in her bones and scared of going back to Dakshinpur to begin her life as a failed and lonely queen once again. Is it so wrong to give up on one's dreams, especially after such a vigorous fight? Why engage in making efforts in such affairs at all if they are essentially futile and self-defeating? But what will happen to you once I'm gone, Singh?
Haima swallowed hard when a choked sob began to tear from her throat. She beamed back at Sahasra. "I need time to think."
She smiled. "I have arranged a hut for you at the end of the forest. You can stay there as long as you want. But I'll come to check on you. After all, I cannot let you simply live a peaceful life after everything you've done to my mother. We do understand each other, right? We are friends now."
No words could come out of Haima now. Tiredness and the loss of her voice had taken away her will to fight. She was afraid of going out of her way to antagonize another person, for her great strengths had already proven her downfall. Not anymore. She wanted this to be over. She wanted to live, however long she would, in peace and serenity.
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