(Book 6) Hayden Mackay and The Third-Eye of the Pancharatna

4.1 To Back Down

Haimavati

Haimavati huddled in a cloak, leaned against the wall at the backside of her hut. She hissed slightly in the nightly wind and squinted through. In the pale moonlight, all she saw was an empty trail leading onto the dirt street, the sharp edges of the rocks at the sides, and a few opened windows of the smaller huts.

Energy surged through her and she snapped her fingers. Time...stopped. The world around her stood still. The nocturnal buzzing sounds came to a rest. The color of the scene changed from subtle lighting to sunbaked orange, making the surroundings visible as in the day. The sigh of the westering wind deadened like a whistle. She was the only one able to breathe the motionless air, the only one to maneuver through the frozen world. She smiled. The old excitement was still there. This was one of many magics that made her exceptionally unique and distinguishable from the other mages, and an egoistic Lady Chandrika could never take the fact as a given that she was her equal.

Haima then slipped out like a thief and crossed the enclosed area of her garden surrounding the hut. The maids and butlers were awake late in the night working for the preparations for tomorrow's event. Few of them were sitting by the front door, engaged in the process of knitting and sewing. She couldn't afford to fall in their eyes. This upcoming meeting with Lady Chandrika better be a highly secret one. It was going to be her last attempt at negotiating and ending the hostility with her former master as well as Endira. It shall be the last attempt to outwit Parthiva's unrealistic desires.

Panchayat seemed to be heavily drugged with Lady Chandrika's cajolery. Despite Haimavati's proposition to keep the event a private affair, they had announced a grand scale, sending the entire country into a state of surprise. Tomorrow's event, she accepted it as well, was beyond despicable to make the cynics happy and well-wishers hang their heads down with embarrassment.

It wasn't a rumor or a local whisper anymore. Every child from every corner of the street had come to know that Parthiva El Sayed was going to launch his first invention - Yajna, tomorrow after joining in wedlock with Haimavati Roksana.

Once she was out of sight, Haima snapped her fingers again and the world came back to life. Some whispers reached her in a jiffy, slowing her pace down. Her own maids were talking behind her back.

"Haima is not right in the head. Almourah is waging war against the people at random. And she could not find a better time to abdicate the throne and marry the Samagraha."

"She is in such a hurry to get wedded again. It isn't even the time of the Fest."

"Look at the grand irony, being a Queen, she is merely capable of begrudging the mishappenings. Perhaps giving up the status would lend her time to whore her way around with more younger men."

Haima took a deep breath. Her insides were a painful jumble of warring emotions. She pressed her eyes shut and toughed it out, fighting away those abusive remarks that provoked her nerves. Let the people talk. Let them talk. She grew up listening to such debasing talks anyway. These remarks had never deterred her from devoting her life to the protection of the people. Instead, they had helped her to cultivate forgiveness and compassion towards the citizens. Such remarks had never intimidated her before nor stopped her from becoming magically and politically powerful. However, she wasn't able to remain complacent with the situation. She refused to live a life where her dignity was put to mediocrity.

Somewhere from an invisible source a wolfhound howled, and came an eerie rustle of wind blowing through the trees. Haima shifted in her place, her breath hitched and she quickly slipped into the darkness beyond the alley.

The knack of transporting herself from one place to another was another magic she was highly skilled at. She enunciated a chant beneath her breath, words flowing sharply and clearly. The voice, the sound of which was mildly quieter than the soft hiss in the beating rain, served the purpose to provide a sense of agency. It placed the frame of her mind and spirit in harmony. Energy surged and Haima disappeared from the spot.