"I hear people," Pruthvi whispered, indicative sounds buzzing in his ears.
Walking a bit through the open space of the cave was of utmost importance to Shourya. Pruthvi didn't have to ask; he self-realized that the idea was to avoid running into Shashi and that Shourya had to maintain continuous mindfulness throughout his waking hours.
Shourya had opened the Gates in an anonymous location which led them both to a giant wall with two lava tubes. Pruthvi spared no time in choosing one of those tubes, given that the low chaotic murmurs dinned continuously in his ears, like being attracted by a great hubbub of the crowd. He took a step forward staring at the faint flicker of light turning on and off in the distance and inhaled a strong sense of iron in the air. The other tube was dark, as dark as the inside of a tunnel, and he disregarded it.
Pruthvi felt his calves aching a bit, but the rest of his physique was overwhelmed with the thought that he was getting nearer to the clan. With Shourya in front of him showing the way, he trotted placing gentle footsteps against the ground and listening to the steady murmur that increased in its volume with every passing moment. A straight tube, and the glimmer of the light bouncing off the walls, it seemed strange to pass through an easy path. A minute passed by and another, Pruthvi began to sense an echo of the footsteps that did not belong to him.
A strong smell of sweat and blood and things he refrained from imagining wafted up to his nose making him gag. He ignored the others but had his mind linger on the scent of metal and iron in the air. There was so much blood, fresh blood spilling somewhere and it reminded him of the carnage he had seen before locating the caged Makara. His heart choked.
Without facing any hindrances, they crossed the tube, only to go deeper into the cave. A single torch hung on the wall with dancing fire allowing them to locate a stone door flanked by ghostly aisles running adjacent to it. The door was locked. Shourya frowned at the weird object working as a locking system and turned about to see Pruthvi, his expression hinting for help. Pruthvi sighed and without hesitation, he burst the door open.
"Ah!" Pruthvi gasped, feeling restless and heavily disturbed by the pungent most acrid smell of blood and sweat.
Shourya pinched his nose as well, and with his other hand, he popped one on Pruthvi's shoulder, smilingly. "Get used to it already," he said, before stepping inside.
Pruthvi followed. As difficult as it was, he compelled himself to be fully present and alert with his exaggerated senses. He was oppressed by the premonition of either something incredible or extremely lackluster happening. There was no other feeling like it.
The concrete low-ceiling cave was crawling with throngs of people packed into tight quarters. The place was a large real-time capsule, a trippy mix of strange stone formations, expert craftsmanship, and a perfect place to perform dark magic. The large and wide area included waist-high stalagmites in a sprawling stretch. It was also shrouded in a bit of mystery, wrapped up in the legends that characterized Shashi's work. How he built so many varieties of caves and hideouts without anyone's knowledge was beyond anyone's guess.
The clan was currently in both human and hound forms, bustling and jostling for better space and position. Despite their frantic, fevered rushing back and forth they still seemed to be living in harmony. There were poles sprawled about for every fifty feet which seemed like the branches of trees, rising high up to the ceiling. Lanterns and torches were suspended sparkling dimply, like golden dots in the pitch blackness.
"You should leave Shourya, now."
A voice with sonorous firmness came from beside them. An old man with a gray raggedy beard and white eyebrows, wearing the same clothes as Shourya stepped up front from the shadows of huge, battered clutter of dark stones. A pack of hounds strode from behind him. They corralled and herded until they crouched across all the jumble of stones, sitting as though a panel of guardians. Their tails wagged ominously; eyes twinkled in the dimness staring expectantly at Pruthvi.
For a moment Pruthvi had a paranoia thought that this newcomer was a threat, and so he began concentrating on his stone, creating a ton of cages being on the top of the list of his formation commands. However, he reluctantly had to concede, seeing Shourya be easy in the man's company.
"Sober?" Shourya asked, casually.
"Yes, still under Shashi's spell though," replied the man. "And you lost your privileges as our leader when Shashi exposed you for playing double agent, Shourya. We demand you to leave before we force it on you. Take samagraha with you and leave us alone."
Before Shourya could respond, Pruthvi grabbed the elder man's elbow as an indication to allow him to speak. Shourya nodded slightly in acceptance and stepped aside. Pruthvi stared at the old man for a few beats and then asked, "Which dynasty?"
"Omble."
"You need to surrender yourself in the Panchayat."
Shourya shot him an incredulous look. "What? That's suicide."
"You're gonna have to trust me," Pruthvi hedged, and got back to the old man. "You're all confused and angry. I'm not sure why and at who, but your state of mind bothers me." Pruthvi took a second, dug his hands into his pockets, and said maintaining excellent eye contact, "You need a King to show you a better direction. Not Shourya as a leader nor...anyone else as you're a leader. You need a king who is tough, and uncompromising and Hayden Mackay is tougher than we thought he would be. That's I came up with this plan to insist you surrender."
"And the reason is?" The man asked. Is he considering it already?
"Y'all come from different dynasties. Showing yourself in the Panchayat is the only way to relocate to Rawat and have full rights to enlarge your territory. Surrender, allow yourself to be cross-examined as witnesses of Shashi's crimes. Once we figure out how to treat impelling..."
"Once you figure out?" said the man. "Thanks for the giddy loose suggestion but I think we prefer to stay here."
"You'll die if you stay here. Things can be different and slaveless-free if you show yourself and seek help."
"From whom?"
Pruthvi moistened his lower lip. "Did you, by any chance, read Rawat's new laws?"
The man scoffed. "They look nice, but only as sentences on paper."
"What do you mean?"
"Giving people the authority to relocate and change dynasties is like allowing people to hop on a wild, heady flight of imagination. It is not easy as Hayden Mackay thinks it is."
"How would you know without giving yourself a chance?"
"Allow me to say that we are perfectly fine and happy the way we are now. We're not looking for any betterment in our lives."
"Living under the shadows of Shashi's brutality is the definition of being fine and happy?"
"That's where everyone goes wrong. Shourya gave us an extended life using Thereokenisis but it is Shashi who is letting us persevere in this mean brutal country. The kings refuse and refrain from acknowledging us as a clan. We're just an abomination in their eyes and they forced us to choose a different profession. We don't want to live under such kings. Shashi is who we choose."
Pruthvi started to feel a commotion in his chest. He wished Hayden was here by his side. "Your pro-slavery overtones are costing us a great deal."
"And we're willing to pay no matter what," said the man, and Pruthvi was stunned at the verbal sharpness of the aged man. "Shashi's our guide, our master who promised to teach us magic once the spirit is unleashed. And don't forget he provides us with food and money in return for our loyalty. Isn't that what we're all striving for."
"He left you impelled for the better part of your remaining life, my dear old man."
"Shashi needs insurance. That is all. And we are willing to serve him. Mind you this is temporary. Our future will be bright as a day once he turns us into mages."
Pruthvi swallowed a lump against the dry tightness in his throat and he concentrated on relaxing his tension. He said in a low persuasive voice, "Why not choose a way where everybody's happy and living in harmony? Your future could be brighter if you move to Rawat for good, the Rawat dynasty which legally renounced Panchayat's atrocious rules. Why not choose that option?"
"It's too late for that. We're impelled now and once the war is over, we have all decided to turn ourselves into mages."
"Why? What's so fascinating about being a mage?"
"Hayden Mackay's laws are impeccable and are favorable to the citizens of this country, we agree to that. But his first-ever mistake was not accepting the throne before the country got ravaged by Almourah's clan. Rawat was safe, but other clans and dynasties were heavily impacted. Did the kings ever talk about that? Those beasts were not only after women, but the ambush that they caused made us lose the entire prospect of our living. And that wouldn't have happened had Hayden as a king allowed the mages to perform magic, dark magic, on which the Clan of Mays is afraid to rely. We went into hiding instead. But we don't want to keep hiding anymore, Pruthvi Krishna. It's not just us, every unofficial clan and closeted mages are coming out now to learn magic and grow powerful. Because only magic can keep us safe from future hurdles."
"The only hurdle existing right now is the one you're worshipping," Pruthvi said. "If there's ever a magic needing to drink mages' blood, he wouldn't think twice to slice you into parts."
"That's not true. Shashi Thribhuvan kills only humans, normal humans. And only during the times when he wishes to make a statement. He promised to stop everything once Panchayat listens to his wishes and makes him the King. He adopts mages as his own and now he's trying to convert normal people into mages. He treats us fairly."
Pruthvi raised his brow and tried hard not to burst out laughing derisively. "Now who is hoping onto the flight of imagination?"
Shourya placed a hand on Pruthvi's shoulder and bent down a little to whisper in his ears. "They are impelled. Remember that. They'll only speak Shashi's words." Pruthvi stared at him, although it had nothing to do with what Shourya had said. Pruthvi was suddenly floored by self-realization.
What an unparalleled man Shashi Thribhuvan is. His peerless intelligence and ungodly capability to manipulate people are honestly terrifying. He knew very well that being nice is overrated and that we would think a million times about the risks of violating the boundaries that came with being too nice. That was the flaw he'd been using for his benefit. On top of that, the fact that these people are coming to him willingly, only because of the Kings who were bent on seeing freedom and domination as both belonging to them.
Pruthvi sighed and took a step forward, feeling his warm Emerald. "I will make you surrender one way or the other," he said. "But first, tell me, where is the tomb?"
The old man looked as if he were on his way to be hanged. "What tomb?"
"Save it," Pruthvi said and added a bit angrily. "I don't know when and how you'll realize that neither I nor any of the Samagraha is your enemy, but Shashi certainly to us is. All this nonsense will stop only with his death. Shashi Thribhuvan needs to die! And for that, you will tell me where his tomb is."
"Or what?" the old man stood the ground.
The hounds surrounding him began to growl. Shourya folded his hands and scanned the entire premise of the chamber that seemed to have sprung with tension. Pruthvi knew that he was going to aggravate the bad situation, but he blamed it all on the stubbornness of the old man.
"Shourya, what's above this chamber?" he asked, staring at the old man.
Shourya sounded confused. "Just forest? I sense impatience. Please don't do anything, these are my people."
"I know." Pruthvi held his stone tight in his palm inside his pocket and boom! the ceiling of the chamber sagged down creating a gigantic effect as though a bomb had gone off. The humans cried out and hounds yelped getting nearer to the walls of the chamber and creating a vacant area in the middle.
The hounds surrounding the man stood up on their claws and pranced up ready to attach Pruthvi. The ground shook, cages emerged, and Pruthvi had the hounds captured at once. The old man's eyes bulged out when the clamor of their excited voices rose and echoed off the rock walls. "Not. Fair," he mumbled with his gritted teeth.
"Thought you liked unfairness, seeing how you're okay with getting impelled," Pruthvi replied. "Where is the tomb?"
"Never expected Samagraha to act like this. You disappoint me."
"Don't worry, my king has given me full freedom, and all about my job is to make him contented. By the way, he insisted on having a few drops of blood leak if you don't help me out today, but you're lucky I chose this way instead. So tell me, where is the tomb?"
"You seriously think threats are going to work on us?"
The familiar hot feeling of anger returned in Pruthvi like a long-lost companion. He set his jaw, commanded his stone and the ceiling creaked greatly making an ear-splitting crunch. A couple of bast boulders shot up straight from the ground at the corners of the basement with an indescribable force creating a massive collision sound. This had a few hounds and humans knock upwards doing cannonballs in the air and landing some distance away. Cries of anguish and pain emanated more and more. Shourya gave a solid stare at Pruthvi as he stood unperturbed by the rising commotion amidst the entire clan.
The voracious caged creatures were going about their business with intense eagerness. They scratched and slammed themselves against the bars making the cages rock in place. One of the hounds squatted down and at once changed back into human form, into a young thin woman in black combat-style trousers and long-sleeved jacket. "Father," she said with a hint of despondence in her tone. "Explain to him why we cannot disclose where the tomb is. Maybe then he'll be inclined to treat us better."
"Not exactly why I've come here, but I feel humbled," Pruthvi commented. "Just speak to me about the tomb. Anything is worthwhile."
The old man paused for a moment as though thinking profoundly, and then said. "You Samagraha are so obsessed with killing Shashi, that you don't know what the consequence of it will be. Shashi has planned it all. He's going to control this country his entire life...and also from his grave."
Pruthvi felt his eyes widen as he processed the words. "How?" he asked, and the cries of the clan upfront subsumed under the weight of his hammering heart.
"He created a clan that is hard to exterminate. Even the Clan of Almourah was once deemed immortal but Doctor found a way to prove otherwise. Shashi is now convinced that Samagraha being Doctor's disciples might put two and two together and abolish him and his newly formed clan one day. Once that happens...Pruthvi Krishna if that happens guess which clan of this country is going to replace the Clan of Almourah, not to mention their leader Almourah."
A painful sense of constriction came into Pruthvi's chest. While the old man's statement contained a shocking revelation, its impact was diluted by another immensely loud collision sound.
"No!" Shourya whispered hoarsely, eyes boggling about him.
"Shourya," the man said. "I'm sure you think the members of our clan are killing themselves because they're impelled to do so. If that's true, then you're mistaken. They are killing themselves because they had sworn to protect you. Shashi did hand us over his tomb, but he impelled us never to speak of it to Samagraha. Because his death will automatically trigger the magic that will make all our lives rely upon just yours. We do not tend to have two lives, but the magic will still have us interconnected. If you die, then the entire clan would succumb into never seen before inhumanity in turn causing the ruination of this country."
"Hayden should not be executing anyone," Shourya murmured again. "They're innocent."
"Tell me now Pruthvi Krishna," said the man. "Do you still think Hayden Mackay is any different as a king?"
"Hayden's decision was based on my misinterpretation," said Pruthvi, fighting the tornado of a thousand emotions tearing away at his insides, his breath hot and heavy. "He should not be blamed for it. It was me."
"Save your petty confessions for Panchayat. You'll be needing them. Now since Shashi's tremendous plan for our clan is out in the open, I believe you understand why we think that every one should let Shashi live. You should go now, Samagraha, go back to your friends, and forget about the tomb."
Pruthvi took his glasses off and wiped the moisture from his eyes. He needed to decide. Now. Quickly. Hurry. Just do something. The man was about to turn and walk away but Pruthvi had no other choice but to be resilient and... meaner. "I can't," he said.
The man looked at Pruthvi deliriously, sunken eyes glazing over with astoundment. "Excuse me?"
"You will have to tell me where the tomb is. I can't leave without it."
"Even after you know the truth?"
"If I come down to an impression that this madness will end with Shashi's death then perhaps this country will never need another Samagraha. People like Shashi will come and go as long as magic prevails in this country. Maintaining peace between magic and normal humans is our job and that is what we've pledged to do for the rest of our lives. If you think you'll be a threat to this country, then...we will stop you. We have the means to do that. Just because Shashi has a backup plan doesn't mean we are going to retreat and let him take this country over."
"In that case, I'm not willing to lay this clan's fate on the line. I'm sure Shourya agrees with me."
Pruthvi glanced at Shourya in the hope to meet his eye, but Shourya refrained from speaking. He never once looked at him. All his attention was on the bustling clan beyond, his mouth firmly set, the squareness of his jaw and the verticality of his profile defying unduly influence. Pruthvi wouldn't begin to guess the intensity of the mental battle that must be going on in his mind.
"I've still got ways of forcing information out of you, old man," said Pruthvi, threateningly. "You're testing my patience."
"Try me," he challenged.
And that was it for Pruthvi. "Constellia Formation!" he yelled. Makara appeared at once, landing in a crouching position. The old man gasped and took a step back. Black smoke dissipated. Pruthvi tapped his leg saying, "You've read my mind. Take the girl hostage."
As soon as the cage around the young woman collapsed, Makara attacked. He zapped forward like a burst of lightning and wrapped his arm around her in a chokehold. The girl whimpered, her chin sinking deep into the crease of Makara's arm, but her expression was flat, non-hostile. A stronger hold might have snapped her neck already. Pruthvi wanted it to be gentle but with firm pressure. Makara obeyed.
"My Constellia can even knock out a hound. So don't even think about it," Pruthvi said to the girl and shifted his focus back to the man. "Care to spill the information now?"
The man's jaw was hidden in the thick beard, yet Pruthvi figured how tight he clenched it. He glared at Pruthvi measuring him up with his angry eyes. "Shourya's blood is running inside your veins too," he said, finally resorting to the topic Pruthvi wanted to avoid. His stomach jounced.
"There's no need for you to worry about me," Pruthvi replied. "I don't even worry about me."
"You don't expect us to take you as our leader after all this, do you?"
"No," Pruthvi declared with a heavy heart. Shourya, now, snapped a look at him which Pruthvi ignored. "You don't need a leader at all as I've already mentioned. You need a king. You need to function as a proper clan with the official laws of the Rawat Dynasty. This statelessness needs to end. All you need to do is let us kill Shashi. So, take your head out of the gutter and ensure some dignity."
They stared angrily at each other for a moment. The girl squirmed a bit in Makara's hand. She tried to speak but the gag prevented her. Shourya took a step forward, seriousness descended upon us. Everything went still for a moment, except for the mid-level skirmish amidst the clan. Then the man moved, raised his hand, and pointed at the far end corner of the chamber. "There's a pond. Shourya knows where, but I can take you to it. We'll need to dive into it, and there you'll see a headstone. Break through it. Below the headstone lies Shashi's tomb."
Did he give it away? Pruthvi waited for a stutter in his voice or a display of a nervous tick. There was none. The man stood immobile with a straight face. His sincerity was questionable. "Things will go worse if you're con on me."
"I swear on my daughter, it's in there. Take it if you can and get the hell out of here."
Instructing Makara to keep an eye on the place, Pruthvi, Shourya and the old man strode through the path amidst the caged growling hounds. They stepped over the rock formations which Pruthvi realized was man-made and U-shaped, a useful enclosure that kept the pond out of sight.
Further towards it they went the eerier the chamber became. The darkness was though an invisible figure leaning over Pruthvi, with a strong, pungent smell thrusting into his face. He covered his mouth with both of his hands, eyes streaming, and looked aside at the man for further direction, while Shourya kept walking. The old man pointed at the way they helped them dive easily into the pond. Pruthvi nodded. Shourya and he ran towards it, making a huge urgent desperate dive.
In no time Pruthvi was engulfed with the purest form of water, ripples moved around his limbs in swirls, creating a buoyancy and a sense of freedom from the smell.
They were swimming with their jackets on, and Pruthvi felt the extra weight lugging around. Shourya stroked efficiently, stretching his long limbs, the technique making him look much taller in the water. He beckoned at Pruthvi and pointed to the other side of the pond, then swam away swiftly. Pruthvi followed, both swimming with astounding speed, an aggressive and steady race, which ended up having a friendly competition.
Shourya took a sudden plunge and swam slantingly down, both of their bodies completely submerged. Their heavy clothes dragged them easily down. The glow of the surface became dimmer, more distant now, Pruthvi began to wonder how deep the pond must be. The rocks appeared, however, silhouetted, indicating the bottommost depths. He shivered a bit, the water had gotten colder, also thicker like soup. His muscles ached, his weight pulling him down resisting the free strokes, it was as though his guts were stuffed with boulders. He stayed put despite the breathing difficulties that started to take over.
They swam over the bottom for another minute, before Shourya suddenly stretched out his hand asking Pruthvi to stop. There was something ahead of them, something that had Pruthvi fascinated, Zarina's words coming back to him.
It was of course the headstone. Huge, made with fieldstone and battling lichen, mold, and mildew. It was partially carved to which Pruthvi wondered if it meant anything. His breathing increased, insides pulsing with anticipation. Bubbles appeared obscuring his vision. He puckered up and swam toward the smooth surface of the headstone and thoroughly checked it.
It was long, strong, and wide enough to withhold a tomb dedicated to the corpse of the man he had seen in Thribhuvan's portrait. Closed mouth, his muscles straining, he thought about his stone and commanded it. Once, twice and thrice. The muffled clinging sound penetrated through the water. Bubbles appeared and more bubbles came through. Pruthvi's throat choked up. A Shashi-free country was what he thought. The only thought of it was the strong enough motivation to pull up strength and break the headstone with his Formation. Finally, cracks began to appear. Pruthvi, feeling exhilarated, used his hands to remove the fibers and the leftover grains of the headstone. Please let the tomb be here.
Shourya came over and lent a hand. Together they manually broke the headstone apart. Their efforts proved most fruitful when they saw the thing hiding underneath it.
It was a tomb, alright, ancient and magnificent, a coffin-shaped tomb, made of Mohagany-colored wood of Vrindahina.
They looked up at each other. Shourya gave a restrained smile and pointed a finger upwards. Holding the tomb from either side, together they raced quickly and landed back on the surface, on the opposite side from where they had first dived.
"Well done," said Shourya.
"I wish I had the dagger with me," said Pruthvi, his heart thumping with excitement
"Now you need my help to..."
Pruthvi's mind pricked. He got distracted when he heard a voice, "Tyrell, what is it?"
"Forget the clan," Tyrell said, his voice wasn't as pleasant. "They're just pawns and know nothing. Take Shourya's help and come to Shashi's lab. Pruthvi...I found the tomb."
What in god's name...! Utter dispiritedness washed over Pruthvi and his eager eyes fell on the tomb in front of him.
-x-