(Book 3) Hayden Mackay and The Shaatrumani Stone

17. The Shaatrumani Stone

The last rays of the afternoon sun fell slanting inside the hut. Tyrell banged his glass on the table, feeling the floor rocking beneath his feet, his mind drifting in and out. This tipsy feeling was empowering him. His stomach was nauseating yet he craved for more, not for the best drink he has ever tasted, but about the vital information Jyran had given him.

Emptiness was always there, a never ending darkness that was consuming everything. But his mind was still wavering with surging perplexity. The more he mulled it over, the more his brain twirled. He looked at Jyran with his droopy eyes, and read his expression. It was as if he had been waiting for this moment ever since he had come to know that Tyrell was his son.

"You need to tell me everything," he said, propping his elbows on his knees and rubbing his face with both his hands, "and no riddle-talking."

Jyran stood up pushing his chair back. Tyrell watched him walking, with a determined stride, towards a wall cupboard besides the stacked scrolls . Pulling the bottom most drawer, he took  a small parchment out of it. He stared at it for a few seconds before he walked back to pass it on to Tyrell.

"What is this rubbish?" Tyrell asked, without even looking down at the paper.

"That rubbish defines your ability," said Jyran sitting back on his chair. "Now don't tell me you know nothing about the abilities that are also passed down generation after generation. I hope we made sure Theodore Hanslay explain it to you very well."

Tyrell's mind raced . It might have been seven months since they had encountered Shashi Thribhuvan for the very first time. He and his friends had always talked about how they had managed to defeat him. Now with Jyran Kerenza mentioning it specifically, probably they should have cared about the other crucial factor they had discovered through Celina's uncle. He closed his eyes, as a productive buzz in the form of Theodore Hanslay's voice filled in his ears.

"When their powers can be passed down to the next generation, why couldn't their abilities be too?"

He then curiously looked down at the paper, holding it firmly in his hands. It was a rough painting of, what it looked like, a cone shaped, green in color gemstone, pointed at the end and the broad part hinged with a silver chain. He didn't know why but the stone reminded him of Pruthvi's emerald. But the shape of it was giving him a second thought.

"What is this?" Tyrell asked, trying to sit steady as his head was swirling more than ever. He was too intoxicated for having just a few glasses of wine. "What do I do with it?"

"For you to do anything," said Jyran, "first you have to have it."

"Why don't you tell me in the words I understand?" he asked, surprisingly not getting irritated.

"The Shaatrumani Stone!" said Jyran, in a loud, grating voice, "The only element in the whole world that has the capability to execute a Samagraha."

Tyrell looked back at the paper and then back up. Emptiness inside his body wasn't helping him much this time. There was a dull sore in his torso that giving him an urge to react over the information, but all was void, a dark void.

"This can kill us?" he asked, unable to believe the fact.

"Yes," he said, reading his son's expression, "Don't underestimate it by it's size and shape, my boy. It is the most powerful stone, also called The Enemy Stone. It is the reason your stone came into existence and it was the reason for the extinction of first two generations and one day your generation will too."

"Came into existence?" asked Tyrell, intrigued, "What do you mean?"

"I hope doctor taught you about the Constellia, didn't he?"