(Book 3) Hayden Mackay and The Shaatrumani Stone

23. Getting Candid with The First Born

Tyrells' eyes shot open. Feeling groggy, his torso slightly burning, he groaned, lifting himself up to sit  on the comfortable soft bed. Unknown about his current location, he looked around, feeling his eyelids heavy. Everything in there was highly sophisticated-the bed and bedspread, the closets with designers mirrors, the rooftops with a chandelier and the marble flooring. He was in the guest bedroom, the same one they had always been offered to stay in Sharad's palace .

He sighed heavily, trying to recollect for how long he has been sleeping. Do hell with sleep, how in the world did he reach Dakshinpur?

He creased his brow, sensing his heart racing on recollecting everything that was beyond.

A tremor of dread slid through him on thinking about the man named Jyran Kerenza, who claimed to be his real father. How he had tried to manipulate him by slandering his mother. And on not believing him, how he had threatened to kill Celina, taking her as a leverage to forcibly make him accept his demands.

But whatever had happened, he was grateful that everything had happened to him and no one else suffered in place of him. But something else had happened that he suddenly remembered and no one except him was responsible for it.

He dared to kill a fellow Samagraha.

He choked on remembering that black day in his whole life. Guilt hit him like an icy knife, chopping down each and every muscle of his body. He longed for the time to go back and give a second chance for him to take a different path, a sensible path. But what was done was done and there was no way to make things right.

This feeling of remorse would be for a lifetime, like an indelible stain imprinted in his heart. Hard lump grew in size within his throat and nausea filled his gut. He closed his eyes, covered his mouth and let out his quiet sob, uncontrollable tears welling up in his eyes, draining down his cheeks.

He cried for much longer time, till he could man up and accept the reality. He blinked, letting his last tears, filled with guilt to drop down, washing him up thoroughly. Then he sensed something else that was still lingering in parallel with his awaken soul, and now that Tyrell has accepted the truth, it came back to haunt him all over again-his altered mind.

Didn't Doctor know that awakening his soul wasn't enough? That his mind was still dangerous, and his body was slaved to it?

Then the battle between his soul and mind began.

How can I even think of killing someone?

It wasn't your fault.

You made me do it.

It was right thing to do.

A soft moaning sound drew his attention. Wiping his tears completely, he looked around to find Leena sleeping on the couch placed at one side of the room, her head resting on the armrest and legs on the floor. He forced his eyes to look away from her. He couldn't afford to even look at her. After all his unforgivable acts, he doubted if he truly deserved her friendship.

You are right, you don't need her.

She is my friend.

She was your friend.

Leena shifted in her sleep. She twitched her eyebrows and was about to wake up. Tyrell wasn't ready to face her yet, he wasn't ready to face anyone. He needed some time alone to figure out where he stood, and to interpret the battle occurring deep down inside him. He quickly pushed the blanket away, stepped down the bed and walked out of the room, or in other sense, he was running away from her.

Keeping his eyes on the floor and his hands inside his pocket, caressing his stone with his fingers, he walked along the few passageways. He wished the great hall to be empty, to let him easily slip away from the palace silently.