Tantrics Of Old

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Tantrics Of Old Page 41

by Bhattacharya, Krishnarjun


  ‘This is but one life,’ he said. ‘I wanted to know. That can never be considered a crime, only a mistake by some. Because if you do choose a path, you cannot take responsibility for anything or anyone—everyone you know is there to only help you get to the greater truth, to help answer the questions you have always been asking.’

  Victor walked around, scratching his nape. ‘I’m afraid that’s how I’ve always been, Adri. Love for me has always been a love for finding out, a love for knowing. I am the only person who worked for the government, then for the resistance—the Defenders of Old Kolkata—and then MYTH again, only this time, I was their most celebrated Tantric. It is all because I wanted to do it. I wanted to know if I can do it. My ideals can change immediately, Adri, if it suits what I have wanted to find out. Are you beginning to understand, even slightly?’

  ‘You think that could be an excuse?’ Adri asked. ‘Searching for more? Is that why I was never raised as a son? Is that why you were afraid of responsibility? Because you did not care enough?’

  ‘Everyone is raising children and settling down, Adri,’ Victor said, gently shaking his head. ‘I’m afraid there were very few people who I could connect to, and who could connect to me. You were never one of them.’

  ‘What did you do with my mother?’ Adri hissed.

  ‘I loved her. I have never understood love, Adri—but if I was to say I have been in love, it was with your mother, my wife. She had an incredible power to make it all okay, son—a gift, not a magical capability, and after her death there has not been a single day when I don’t miss her. But you have to understand that there was no other way—the curse demands that the owner perform it on his most treasured possession, something he has protected the most. No one else had enough power in the Old City to actually perform the curse.’

  ‘Why? Why did you have to do it at all? You could have stopped anytime! You could have let it rest! But then it was knowledge, wasn’t it? Knowing the effects of the curse and seeing your wife twist and die, like another one of your little experiments!’

  ‘I knew the effects already. But I went on with it, though with a heavy heart, because I wanted to see something else—not the effects of the curse on your mother, not that. I could not watch her suffer, and I did turn away when she was in her final moments of agony. No, I wanted to see something else.’

  ‘And what,’ Adri asked, ‘was that?’

  Victor looked at him in the eye, and Victor’s grey eyes seemed to light up with a sudden mad shine.

  ‘The Apocalypse!’ Victor exclaimed. ‘Armageddon, Catastrophe, Cataclysm, Doomsday—it has many names. The birth of a new era, a fresh start with terror, destruction, blood, purification, the greatest of them all! The Horsemen riding together again, the dark prophecies getting fulfilled one by one; I have wanted to see this since the day I have known of it. I have but one life, my son, and I will not have it wasted trying to rule over a mere country. Or be a hero until a grisly death makes me a martyr. No, I have seen, and I will see more. I will be a part of the Apocalypse. I will BRING the Apocalypse upon the twin doors of this world!’

  Adri took a step back.

  ‘The Oka Draugr,’ he said breathlessly. ‘It didn’t—’

  Victor looked at him.

  ‘It did,’ he said. ‘While you were in your mother’s womb, it infected your soul, making you akshouthur, a soul the Horseman would need to break a seal. That is the power of this curse, and it is because of this power that the mother can never survive the childbirth. A necessary sacrifice, but she left wanting you to live.’

  ‘Her spirit,’ Adri said in horror. ‘Where is it?’

  ‘Consumed by the curse,’ Victor replied simply. ‘Which is why you can never call her spirit to talk to you, despite all your efforts. The spirits stay silent because they fear the Oka Draugr; I thought you would be Baal Ob by now, son. I thought you would’ve gained this information from the Spirits of Old by now. But you have disappointed me—all your years. Your soul matured when you became twenty-three, and the Horseman Death was informed of your presence. There are rules, however, and I knew you would use the twenty-four hour gap. I expected better from you, though. You just trusted everything important to the imbecilic Fallen and got busy securing blood for its transformation. I had to send the artefact to you—now that you had begun, we couldn’t have it ending so fast.’

  ‘You played cat and mouse with me,’ Adri said.

  ‘I wanted to give you a chance, to see if you could change anything, but you were always so reckless, always so much on the edge. It was fascinating to watch your journey—though your end was always inevitable. It would always come down to a father-son meeting, me being symbolic of the other, the nemesis—and then you making a last attempt at attack or escape before dying a pitiful death, unworthy of the Sen name.’

  ‘Father?’ Adri spoke.

  ‘Yes, son?’ Victor asked.

  ‘I’m going to kill you,’ Adri said.

  Adri threw his hands at his sides and bent down in a perfect warrior’s posture. Suddenly, everything around him exploded—invisible, powerful forces appeared about his body, razing the wooden floor down to the mud beneath. A sudden wave of power erupted from Adri, sending everyone a step back with its sheer force, more powerful than the gale outside. Adri’s eyes were on fire, and hate burned through him.

  ‘What is that?’ Gray whispered in amazement.

  Maya was silent, as was Fayne. Aurcoe was gone.

  ‘Impressive!’ Victor said. ‘I did not see this coming, Adri. You have grown, then. I can sense your magic, and it is strong. Not strong enough though, to do as you claim.’ He grinned at Adri. ‘Hit me then,’ he said. ‘If you can.’

  Adri shouted in fury and leapt at Victor, right hand raised. Victor moved to one side almost carelessly and Adri hammered a wooden pillar, smashing it completely. Victor laughed. Adri recovered and spun around.

  ‘I will crush the life out of you, old man,’ he spat.

  He rushed at Victor again, this time giving him no space to dodge, his energy searing around him like a chaotic, angry force. Victor teleported. Adri’s fist drove deep into the marble where Victor had been, shattering it into a million little pieces.

  Recovery. Amazement. Adri looked around. Victor stood high up in the rafters of the church. He was laughing.

  ‘How can you—blink?’ Adri asked in anger.

  ‘You have not understood magic yet, my boy,’ Victor said happily. ‘You never used any of your gifts or talents properly. In fact, you started out in such an irresponsible way, dragging a poor defenceless girl all across Old Kolkata.’

  Gray looked at the both of them. ‘Fayne,’ he said. ‘Can you take Victor Sen out while he’s talking?’

  Fayne looked at Victor, then at Gray. ‘Apologies,’ he said.

  Maya looked at Fayne and understood.

  ‘Of course I hired Fayne,’ Victor said. ‘It was the right thing to do, to even things out a bit. My sense of fair play demanded it; she was a poor little girl, wasn’t she? She needed a protector, and clearly you weren’t up to the task. Also, I doubt you would’ve survived the journey without the assassin.’

  Adri grimaced as Victor turned to Fayne.

  ‘Your charge is complete, by the way. I have sent your payment to your vault in Ahzad already. Thank you for your services, I shall not be needing them any more.’

  Fayne nodded lightly.

  ‘And you, dear girl,’ he spoke, looking at Maya. ‘You need not thank me. You’re welcome.’

  Maya looked at Victor. ‘You disgust me,’ she said.

  Victor laughed and looked up; and the next moment he wasn’t there. Adri smashed through the rafters where Victor had been a second ago, dropping to the ground far below directly on his feet. Splinters and wood blocks rained from above, disintegrating before they reached Adri. He spun around. Victor now stood where Adri had jumped from.

  ‘Coward,’ Adri said. ‘Fight me instead of running around.’

&nb
sp; ‘Oh, I’m not a coward, Adri,’ Victor said. ‘In case you think I was afraid and thus staged my own kidnapping, you’re wrong. No, it was essential that you did not suspect me—I wanted you to make this journey on your own. I wanted to see how far you could go. The Infernal that I had burn down my house is loyal to me. Even now it waits behind the church. Rain hurts it like crazy, I suppose, but its faithfulness is beyond that.’

  ‘Where is Smith?’ Adri asked.

  ‘One of the unfortunate collaterals. Nothing would have happened to him had you not involved him personally; all I wanted to see was you get some supplies from him and move on. But no, I underestimated his friendship. He was dormant for years, I never imagined him picking up his pack and trying to trace me out. He was handed over, to be exact. The Flesh Eaters of Nemen Sui. If he is not dead already, he will be. A sad waste, but there is no saying, of course, that the coming of the new era wouldn’t have claimed his old life anyway.’

  ‘He was your friend and he paid the price,’ Adri said through gritted teeth. He charged at Victor again, the forces around him flaring wildly. Victor disappeared while he was midway; he reappeared behind Adri, in the middle of Adri’s dash, and spoke to Adri over his shoulder.

  ‘Fool,’ he said. He grabbed Adri’s shoulder lightly, with incredible speed, and before Adri could even realise what was happening, Victor, using Adri’s momentum, flung him into a wall. Adri fractured the wall with tremendous force. A large crack sped up the surface. The forces surrounding Adri disappeared immediately, leaving his body smoking. He slumped to the ground.

  ‘Adri!’ Maya screamed and started to run. Gray grabbed her hand.

  ‘No,’ he said, holding her back.

  Adri wasn’t out. He crawled up to a sitting position, spitting blood. Victor stood, without a scratch on his suit, watching him fondly.

  ‘You couldn’t have done anything about this, if that helps,’ he said gently. ‘Your fate was decided from the moment I performed the curse on your mother. I trained you. Hoping, dreaming that perhaps you would surprise me, but you fell short. And it was meant to happen. I was an old fool, thinking that maybe . . .’ His voice trailed off. ‘But never mind. What has to happen has to happen. I hope you are ready, my son. I can feel the Horseman getting impatient.’

  ‘Death . . . is here?’ Adri coughed out.

  ‘Yes, it is. It had been waiting for my words with you to end.’

  ‘Considerate,’ Adri said.

  ‘Death is many things but considerate. No, this was always part of the deal in which I hand you over. Death honours deals.’

  Adri could feel it now, the raw power of the Horseman—as opposed to his father, who had masked all of his power, not giving away even a shred of his capabilities before Adri attacked him. Death’s aura was almost familiar to Adri by now. Despite himself, he smiled inwards. He was ready.

  ‘Horseman,’ Victor spoke. A back door flew open, and Adri saw a familiar frame crouch and enter. Death stood straight after it entered; its face turned to the Saviour’s statue for a moment and it observed silently. Then its twisted mask turned to Adri.

  ‘It’s been long, human,’ Death rasped.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, that’s right,’ Adri said, staggering to his feet.

  Victor Sen moved backwards, near the statue. He was evidently going to be a silent observer. He looked at the other three for a moment, now transfixed with fear at the Horseman’s presence. Then he looked back at his son.

  ‘I told you before. You cannot keep Death out of your house,’ the Horseman hissed. It started a slow walk towards Adri, the wood beneath its feet rotting with each step, the cloak of chains dragging behind him, rattling. Adri seemed unsteady. He wobbled towards Death, almost as if he was about to fall, and then acted quickly. The deed was done—the Araakh was buried in Death’s chest. A beautiful dagger, with a hilt made out of dark, inscribed wood—a purple-shaded, wickedly curved blade at one end, a soul gem at the other. Adri held on to the dagger, waiting for something to happen. Nothing. The liquid darkness surrounding Death repelled the Araakh the next instant, and Adri stepped back, the dagger in his hand, looking at Death unbelievably.

  ‘An ebb blade,’ Death said. ‘Incredible. I didn’t know another one existed in the Old City.’

  Adri took a step back, breathing heavily. ‘Why?’ he asked.

  ‘Ebb blades work on souls, human,’ Death said, approaching Adri as he backed away. ‘My soul rotted away into nothingness ages ago. The blade is useless against me. I remember telling you this as well—weapons do not harm me.’

  Adri’s mind raced. He had missed something. Something which did not fit. He did not have the time here to figure it out.

  ‘My turn now,’ Death rasped. Its scythe swirled into existence in its right hand.

  The sight of the gigantic, rusty weapon did not affect Adri. He thought furiously. Something about what Pestilence had said. But what?

  Death looked at its weapon, and the first blade retracted and disappeared. The ebb blade remained. It turned its gaze to Adri.

  Adri’s mind raced faster than it ever had. A split second. He went through his conversation with Pestilence, remembering every little detail, remembering what Pestilence had said, what exactly Pestilence had said. Then suddenly, everything clicked into place.

  The only thing that can help you now, Pestilence had said. It had never mentioned anything about the Araakh ending Death, or Death’s weaknesses.

  Death raised the scythe. ‘Your time is up, human,’ it said.

  Adri turned his head and looked at Maya. Realisation. She looked back at him, helpless, tears in her eyes. Desperation. Adri looked at Maya and spoke through his eyes. Volumes. Confessions. Precise instructions. He looked at her long and hard, yet a split moment. One last time. Then he moved quickly and deftly in a move that Death could not see—he stuck his chest out and plunged the Araakh in his back.

  His entire world was set on fire. Everything burned, burned instantly and brightly. An incredible suction. A black hole. Demanding everything. His entire existence. His memories and thoughts. His well-guarded feelings. His very soul. Everything that he was. The Wraith resisted the pull automatically, instinctively—and Adri gave in immediately. Adri was pulled into the Araakh as pure energy, as a soul, at the same moment that the other ebb blade burst into Adri’s chest. The Wraith now knew what Adri had done; it had nowhere else to go now, but into the Horseman’s scythe. Adri’s body burned shortly in a sudden, incredible rush of fire and then disintegrated. His face burned away. Teeth. Hair. Then the flesh. Muscles. Organs. Bone. It took seconds, and only Adri’s clothes collapsed to the ground, unharmed.

  Death detached the soul gem from the base of its scythe.

  ‘Finally, finally,’ it whispered, looking at the soul moving about in the gem. It whipped around and walked out of the room without another word.

  Victor Sen looked at his son’s collapsed clothes, shook his head, and then adjusted his hair. He looked at the others, who stood looking shocked, sickened. ‘Good day to you,’ Victor smiled, and followed Death out of the door.

  Where is it that I can look for you?

  I talk to you, I tell you things

  I stand tall above your crumbled buildings

  I stand deep beneath your darkest recesses

  I am here where you are

  In your stagnancy I smell life

  In your arms I will feel death

  In your embrace I will breathe my last

  I will return to you, from whence I came.

  ‘He’s dead?’ Gray said, his voice choked. ‘Adri can’t be dead.’

  They stood in front of his clothes. Nothing else remained. Maya bent down and rummaged among the clothes, finally withdrawing the Araakh. She unhitched the soul gem from the base and looked at it. It was a translucent gem within which a small light moved about, peacefully, at ease.

  ‘He’s not dead,’ Maya said, smiling. ‘This was Adri’s deception, the biggest trick he ever pulled in his l
ife. That seal is not going to open with Mazumder’s soul.’

  Gray gazed at the soul gem in disbelief.

  ‘The clever bastard,’ he whispered.

  ‘He didn’t plan on it,’ Maya said. ‘But he figured it out in the end.’

  ‘But what do we do now?’ Gray asked. ‘You have Adri’s soul. So what?’

  Maya turned to Fayne. Her attitude had changed once more. A new fire burned in her. One very similar to what Fayne remembered seeing in Adri. Maya’s mind was set. She knew what was to be done. ‘Are you free to accept a new charge?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Fayne replied.

  ‘I charge you with helping us as we go about the task of attempting to restore Adri back, if that is possible, and to prevent the coming of the Apocalypse,’ Maya said, grim. ‘Your fees will be paid to you after successful completion.’

  Fayne was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. ‘I accept gladly,’ he said.

  ‘We all owe Adri something, huh?’ Maya said, the slightest hint of a smile on her lips.

  Fayne was silent, but Maya knew that beneath the mask, his face had probably given way to a reluctant smile.

  ‘Maya,’ Gray muttered. ‘What are we going to do now?’

  ‘We don’t have much time, that’s for sure,’ Maya said. ‘I don’t know where Death is headed to break its last seal. It won’t be long before it discovers it has the wrong soul. It will hunt us. We must move fast.’

  Gray picked the Ai’n Duisht off the floor. ‘We’ll need this,’ he said.

  ‘Where are we headed?’ Fayne asked.

  ‘I have heard rumours of the Keeper for a long time, and the Soul Library where he sits. If there is someone who will know how to restore a soul to a body, it will be him.’

  ‘The Keeper is legend,’ Gray protested, as they started walking towards the twin doors of the church.

 

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