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Anandhani: Queen of Kapilvastu.
Rajmaata Iravathi Devi: Female herichrarcy of Kapilvastu.
Agastya: Brother of Madhavi.
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She felt a palm close to her neck, and the sensation of being choked increased. Half a year back she had sensed something identical, the wind ceased her skin which wasn't concealed beneath any drape.
With dropping, silence came the voice of high intonation the voice held the might to pierce the smallest of textures of one's body. Anandhani's hands traveled up to her ears and clutched them tight to protect them from the incoming sound wave which had started to propagate from an unknown destination.
She had known who it was, and the memories of the past started to flash through her vision. It was the same abnormal orb of neutral energy that had choked her to death for not remembering the importance of life. It was the same person who rendered a way toward the ray of hope.
"I know that it's you, the same soul."
With the passage of words, there came a dagger close to her vision, its velocity was at the minimum pace needed to slash someone's body in two. But it wasn't meant for her. Curving its motion from her sideways, brushing only the handle next to her body the dagger penetrated the shiny face of one of the biggest mirrors in the room breaking it into thousands of shards.
"I am no soul."
Anandhani heard a voice from her balcony, feet obedient to the call waddled in the direction of the sound's initial propagation. Her mind was bustling with questions.
Her brown orbs tightened at the hasty movement of the sand granules, and the lump of saliva in her throat started to build up. The feel of something abnormal taking place had taken down the size of her heart to quarters with the rise in the rhythmic beating of the fluid-filled four chambers.
The sand particles rose, they rose to form the magnificent physique of a lady.
"Who….are you?" Anandhani enquired.
The sandy physique was not less in any measure, its lips parted away forming the passage of three rhythmic sentences, "Special you are to see me, not all have the powers to gaze at the candid eyes of the sandy-physique formed from through the powers of Syamantak. O, dear lady, the now Queen of Kapilvastu, accept this greeting from the past self of the post." It hands rose, forming the perfect gesture of Namaskar following up with the words of her last sentence, "I the holder of the second half fragment of syamantak, I the slave of Parmeshwar Hari, I your good wisher and I your great-grandmother begs your mercy to continue your hunt for the culprit of mysteries and release me from my shackles of pain and agony."
Anandhani was shocked, a terrible fate for a queen. But a question terrified her.
"If you are the holder of the second fragment then why don't you help yourself?"
The manifestation of the old lady was at odds with her skills, though being the wielder of Syamantak she had asked for help from a common queen.
Losing the force of attraction between their particles the sandy physique landed on the lowermost rung of the floor.
The time was over, Anandhani was not in the situation, but; she had to help herself.
The fallen shards of the mirror were alive, being in motion they retrieved their original fate. They were back in their original position. A surprised Anandhani dilated her eyes for a better view, she had understood that last time too she was fooled to believe that she saw a mirage whereas it was a pure vision.
Holding the reins of her mind, directing them in one of the best directions to think of, a recollection struck her mind. It was the night when she had invaded the dark armory.
She was in the best position to guard her way safely to the secret palace, the fear accumulated in her heart for the safety of the future didn't let her continue but a plan was still being brewed in the cauldron of excitement amalgamated with hatred.
"Agatsya Hari has sent us here to give answers to questions that you need to know, Maharani."
Handing the set of brown wrinkled pages the soldiers disappeared into the darkness.
Anandhani had known what needed to do, position herself on one of the best-cushioned chairs, arch her spine and read the pages of the manuscript but she wished for something else.
Balancing herself on one of the finest swing with her little son draped in a blanket she opened the first page of the diary.
The front page of the diary was embellished in the darkest hues of darkness, the foreground held the image of a crescent moon lying perpendicular to the mighty heat-emitting aura of the Sun.
The first page, meant for the name of the holder read it aloud for itself, 'This diary belongs to Agastya Hari'. She had no time to look at the beautiful calligraphy embedded in the brown paper, all that her concern was the content.
Agastya's P.OV
It's been a long time since I have been in the abode of Parmeshwar Hari. I have seen many unusual things but the ones which are of your need are mentioned in detail here Anandhani bhrātrijaya{1}. You might be surprised to read the word with which I have referred to you, but let me tell you bhrātā Cheeranjeevi was my favorite.
This diary will be under your possession when each normal thing will end, but it's fine.
Maharaja Somadeva had equally divided the palace into two equal portions, just the throne was an additional part of the portion given to royal blood. Sivananda had received the throne of Kapilvastu and Dhanish became the governor of Kaushampi.
People considered that he was the one innocent in the duo of sons begotten from the vaishya wife, and my father, Vaishnav Hari was expected to be a bit mysterious.
But all that glitters isn't gold. Jealousy had spun its way into the mind of Dhanish.
Losing his sanity, the son of Haritama planned to murder his little brother for the throne. With the portion of the palace he had even received an equal army but who would fight with a king, when it's possible to kill him being treacherous?
A special meeting was called between the three brothers Shiva, Vaishnav, and Dhanish. That beautiful night a crime had taken place, where a brother slaughtered another with the claim of being the murderer of the third one.
I remember the cries of my mother that fully bloomed moon night. Her hand in my sister's with us, I mean me and my twin clutched closer to her back with our little fingers.
That night, when Dhanish went to meet Shivananda he had accomplished another great deed. He had asked my father to run away with his family as Sivananda held the will to slaughter each one.
But that wasn't the truth–
He wished to place the complete blame on my father's name. After murdering Sivananda, he left the blood-coated dagger in his chamber making each one believe his web of lies.
The same danger was used to pluck out his eye with a huge wound on his thigh. He crawled to the chamber of the, then queen-mother, with those filthy droplets of blood streaming his dye-less dhoti.
Each one believed his anecdotes but none cared to look for my father.
His story didn't end there, after the death of Sivananda the state needed a king. And the post was filled by prince Chiranjeevi, an eight-month-old Maharaj Kumar of Kapilvastu.
He had vented his anger but how would his lust and desire be completed? One night, he invaded the chamber of a female, it's not known who it was. The lady was not the one to fulfill his lust but a manifestation of Durga who was ready to kill Mahisasur.
That night, the lady with a sword in hand massacred the evil which resided in the form of a human– Dhanish.
He was dead but not his ideologies.
Parmeshwar Hari, none knows who exactly he is but it is said that he was an unnamed son of Dhanish seeking revenge.
I left home in search of the dungeon and even came across the correct path but since then I am locked here, trying my best to earn loyalty towards Parmeshwar.
I yearn to go back home, but that isn't possible before the completion of the tenth year–
Sorry I went a little further let me tell you the previous stages.
Parmeshwar Hari is a master of administration, he had certainly left the will to be caught and for that several measures are taken.
There's a rule that none of the workers, not the master either, would face each other's natural beauty, they must cover their faces beneath a mask.
I have never seen him nor had he.
He changes the staff every tenth year, no one keeps track because once lost in this pool of worries you might never come out.
The soldiers who might have handed this diary must have mentioned that you must wait for five years to let the time be ripe for unearthing the secrets, but that's wrong. Being the closest ally he has mentioned to me that this time it will be done in the sixth year so that he may acquire power before wading into the final war to kill the undesired.
Undesired, I mean your son.
The sixth year is the year next.
You just have a single year to seek answers or else you will lose your son too.
The army doesn't get changed, but still, none is loyal to Parmeshwar Hari as the ring was a possession of my father. He truly is the owner of this palace and once he comes into the light none will support this wretched man.
I am cruel to say this but when times come, utilize my father as a shield, keep him forward and walk behind him none will think about harming him. In case something goes wrong, he is already paralyzed he will be free from his pain.
He would at least be able to assist the one who is trying to help him out with his allegations.
My house is a mystery, but not its members. Just look for a lady in her twenties with a polydactyly finger.
If not to provide justice to my family, please just for your son's safety open the dungeon and drag that monster out of the palace.
I am sure you might have been troubled by a different aura. That aura is of your great-grandmother. She is considered dead by the state but no, she's alive as a slave of Parmeshwar, she was kidnapped, tortured, and punished.
She is dying each moment waiting for you, O, holder of Syamantak. With the last sect of energy and knowledge left in her conscience, she has written a few notes for you by the end of this diary.
You can't do everything alone. You need someone, precisely Satyayani Devi. Anecdotes by her dearest sister-in-law. I mean my mother, has made me believe that no manifestation of Durga had killed Dhanish; it was someone among us, Rajmata Satyayani Devi.
A loud wail penetrated Anandhani's ears, it was her son. Looking at the little one crying her heart became liquid, opening the layers of the warm blanket she hoisted her son into the atmosphere. He was crying under the influence of the warm temperature.
"Hey little one, need milk?" She tried to be gentle while tickling him beneath his ribs.
He didn't giggle but produced a different kind of sound with the amalgamation of laughing and yawning at the same time. Suspending his neo downwards he tried to gulp little saliva showcasing his dry throat.
Anandhani had glued her vision to the diary and wished to complete it before dawn, pulling up the upper garment she latched Chaitanya, waving him under his veil with one hand on him and the other securing the midrib of the diary to read securely.
Glossary:
Bhratrijāya- Sister in law.