"What?" Pruthvi asked, blankly. "What did you say?"

"The tomb," she replied, sniffling and then faltered. Even after receiving a lot of money from him she still kept her mouth shut for a long time.

Pruthvi sucked his anxiousness that restrained his impatience. "Look here now, woman," he said, his teeth clenched and a finger pointing at her as a sign of a warning, "My friend once asked me to respect you keeping your age in mind and I am trying my best to respect his words. Don't force me to cross my limits, alright?" He hastily detached two more notes and then continued, "Now, tell me. What is this tomb you are talking about?"

"There are only three people, apart from the Samagraha, who cannot die a normal death," Zarina said, staring at that money which was driving her to move her mouth fluently, "One is Shaytan Rup and the other is Shashi Thribhuvan."

Pruthvi gaped at her apprehensively, his heart beginning to drum. "Shashi cannot die? Then why...."

"He is an advanced dark magic user who accomplished in performing Atmavyuha."

"Atmayukta?" Pruthvi asked, just to make it clear if she was talking about the dark magic he was familiarized with.

"Atmavyuha," she repeated, stressing on the word, "The one you are talking about is where the soul is rested in one's body. And the one I am talking about - the soul through this magic attains the power to take over someone's body."

"What the hell!" Pruthvi exclaimed loudly, feeling his body ripped apart as if a nuclear bomb had exploded in his heart, "So you mean Shashi is in..."

He gasped, his brain functioning tremendously that he thought for once it gave him an attack of a nervous breakdown. He kept the bundle aside on the rock and immediately bend over to pull up his bag. He began to rummage all through the bread packets and then found it beneath all the stuff feeling pleased with himself for not taking it out. He unfolded it-the crinkled painting of King Harsha and the person being called Yodhin Ojha by everyone. He lifted it up to show directly to her and asked, "Is Shashi in his body?"

Zarina's mouth slightly fell open. "Where did you find that?"

"Answer my question," Pruthvi demanded, throwing a few notes at her, "Did Shashi take over his body?"

Zarina nodded gruffly.

Pruthvi sighed, keeping his mind intact with the information he was receiving. He dropped the paper in the unzipped bag and asked, "So what's up with the tomb?"

"Every dark magic has to have a flaw, a loophole, that is its policy. For Shashi to keep transferring his soul from one body to another, his original body is required to be preserved. Once in a while, it is essential for the soul to return to the original body which is right now lying safe in a tomb, made by the one who invented this kind of dark magic in Paramarashtra. No one else unless possessing the immense physical power can destroy it. No one has ever born with such power. And now Shashi believes, it is you."

"So the prized possession is his own body," Pruthvi concluded, intentionally breathing heavily to calm his nerves down.

Zarina creased her wrinkled forehead, probably wondering how he was aware of terms - prized possession. She nodded and on receiving money she continued, "Shashi chose this temple to hide his tomb. Shaytan Rup has been guarding it ever since they met. In the months of the Fest, when the dark magic doesn't work, he takes it and guards it himself."

"What is the tomb made of that it cannot be destroyed by anyone else?"

And the answer was too instant. "The wood of Vrindahina."

Pruthvi's eyes shrunk, suddenly remembering that he was actually incapable of breaking the box that Doctor had showed them, and how the trees had withstood his attacks at the fiasco during the celebrations of the Fest.

"That cannot be true," he said, "I have been told that even after processing the power required, I cannot destroy the wood of the holy tree."

A hideous smile twisted her face. She leaned a little forward and said in a whispering voice, "Wood can be destroyed, that is how the tomb and the mahogany box, that you are thinking of, are built in the first place."

"Tell me how?"

"I honestly do not know," she replied as if the answer was on the tip of her lips.

"Hmm," Pruthvi said, his insides filling up questions, that Zarina probably knew were coming, "I am kind of finding it hard to believe that you have no idea about it, so I am not giving you money for this one. Moving on, so let's just say I destroy the tomb, and then what do I do with the body? What happens to Shashi in Yodhin's body?"

"You destroy the tomb, cremate the body in magical fire and Shashi's soul becomes incapable of changing bodies."

Pruthvi set his jaw straight. "Magical fire? You mean..."

Zarina nodded, pulling her sliding saree over her head. "Hayden Mackay, it is."

"Perfect," Pruthvi said smiling, "So that is his animosity towards Hayden. Just perfect."

Zarina kept mum. Nevertheless, Pruthvi knew she wasn't going to speak more about it unless he threw a bone. The bundle in his hand felt lighter and he decided to be more careful in lending it to her. "What is happening with Yodhin's body then?"

"He died the day Shashi captured him."

"So technically he is a dead body and his body should be decomposing. Is that why Shashi Thribhuvan stinks so much? But it's been a while. Over the Uilani hill when we saw him...why is it..." he faltered sitting straight, his mind immediately elicited the answer to his own uncertainty. Shivers ran all through his body that felt as if he had escaped a cardiac arrest for the second time in his life. "His body isn't decomposing fast," he said, gritting his teeth, "because Paramarashtra always snows."

Silence fell between then once again. Pruthvi felt him inside getting coiled with slithering waves of dread. "Is the whole country under his dark magic?"

"Why do you think the weather in Paramarashtra has undergone this drastic change right after his escape?" Zarina said, when he threw a few notes, "Snow is keeping his body from decomposing. And only in this month of the Fest where the certain magic doesn't work, he resists himself to come out in the open."

"He must be sitting in the refrigerator for this whole month. What a life!" Pruthvi commented, getting disgusted with these people who can go so far to gain the power or immortality or whatever it was.

"Pruthvi! Pruthvi! Can you hear me?" Leena's voice suddenly echoed in his brain, her voice slightly soothed his extreme anger.

"Just stay out, I will be there," He informed her. She was waiting for him outside, in the dark. He wanted to finish debriefing Shashi's intentions with Zarina as soon as possible. He continued asking her, "What happens if his body decomposes? Why can't he simply hop onto someone else's?"

"Every time he changes the body, the power of dark magic reduces. He cannot risk it."

"Instead he is letting the whole country suffer. How genius. So this means," he paused for a just about few seconds, now hating his own bruised and bleeding brain that never stopped from developing facts, "he was more powerful when he was in his own body and he is less powerful now? Is that what you are saying? So if he changes body now, chances for him to become lesser powerful?"

"Yes. And too many questions. I will be needing more money."

Pruthvi threw them instantly. "Is there even a limit to this cruelty," he rebuked, his insides burning with vexation, "I am sure Shashi is drinking your blood to double his sadism."

"Wrong," she said checking the bundle that was now in her hand, "Woman only in the age group from eighteen to sixty-two..."

"I wasn't speaking literally, you bi..." He sucked it momentarily, although wanting to curse her more than that. "Well, thank you so much for filling me up, great-grandmother. Thank you for telling me what my ability is and how it is going to help defeat Shashi. Now just clear this doubt for me- looks like each Formation Samagraha does carry an ability chosen by the Firsts to pass down. Leena and her tears, Tyrell and his blood, Hayden and his fire, me and my kinetic powers," he tilted his head, staring at her intently when his brain finally ceased to scrutinize for facts at the right time, "What is Celina's?"

"Do you have more money?" she asked, counting the notes with her thin fingers, "Keep throwing and I will keep answering whatever you want."

Pruthvi looked down at his hand and found them empty. He chided himself. Only if he was more careful in giving her a single note for a single answer, as per their bargain, maybe he would have received answers to the rest of his questions.

"No money?" she said, her voice turning cold, "So get lost."

"Of course," he said, a certain kind of pressure building in his heart. He stood up and tapped the ground. The cage around her at once broke shattering down into pieces. "I am leaving you alone to rot in here until either Doctor or King Agasthya come in and shove you in a real jail."

She winced, blood rushing to her face making her ears turn red. "You promised," she howled in rage.

"Promised? Did I? When?" Pruthvi said with a goofy smile and then pulled his face to make it look stern. "Being a woman, you never cared for your own kind. You let Shashi and his group suck on the poor, innocent people. I am sure this is one of the reasons you killed Nazira's parents, didn't you? You deserve to be in a right place, and that is the closed wards of prison."

Glaring at her for the final time, saying what he had to say, he turned around and took a few steps away.

"Afraz Khan!"

Pruthvi stopped dead. His heart dropped to his knee hearing the name he never wanted anyone to ever utter. A flicker of irritation frizzled within him, making his eyes slightly sting.

"Planning to get married?" Zarina said, her voice as cold as before.

Pruthvi spun around, staring down at her with his widened eyes.

"Oh no, please don't appreciate my clairvoyant skills," she sneered.

"None of your damn business," Pruthvi warned, returning back to her, "Leave my personal life out of this."

"If I go down, you go down with me!" She threatened in reverse.

"And how is that exactly?"

She laughed violently, the whole chamber shaking with the sound she made. "You are getting ready to marry the Maiden of Paramarashtra?"

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN?" Pruthvi bellowed, her laugh piquing his irritation.

"Do you know how our ancestors died?" she said, "They died of Comalica virus. Because the first and the second Aquamarine users at one point in their long life got married and mothered many kids. Vrindahina wasn't happy about it. The daughter turned out as deceitful as her mother was. Our deity immediately took away the gift, leaving the disease incurable. Poor current citizens of Paramarashtra-they don't even know that an upcoming holy marriage is going to shower a curse upon them. Now tell me, is the third generation Samagraha any different? Do you possess a pure soul?"

Pruthvi once again felt his eyes turning amber, probably this time they were burning hot with rage, flames roaring in his eyes ready to ignite. He took another step towards her, feeling his chest experiencing a wild tornado he had never felt in his life before. And when Zarina smirked at him, blood rushed towards his muscles and down to his palm. Without taking his eyes off her, he lifted his hand up and forgetting the norms he was keen to follow, he grudgingly forced a big blow across her face.

Smack!

His head reeled a sickeningly hearing the loud clapping sound reverberating throughout the chamber. He even thought he heard a neck rupturing, cracking sound aftermath.

Through his tearful eyes, he glowered down at Zarina's body slowly falling down on the ground, her head completely dislocated, out of proportion to her saggy neck. For a moment Pruthvi thought he did the right thing, a tear mixed with blood dripped down his cheeks. Then he blinked releasing a maximum amount of air out of his lungs finally realizing what he had done. He crouched down and gently turned the body around.

It was lifeless.

Not obliging to the guilt that began to crawl up all through this veins giving him the pain of the lifetime, he stood up whirling around and resumed his stride, only this time a lot faster.

His head began to hurt immensely. He pulled a lantern hung on the wall and walked through the darkness. He ran up the stairs that never ceased to end. His stomach growled, his legs cramped and his heart....almost on a verge of battling with his mind.

Nobody can have an authority to talk about his personal life, about his relationship with Leena. They were together for so long, and he knew they were meant to be together for the rest of their life. Nothing was going to stop him from taking their relationship to a deserving new level.

The stairs finally ended and he halted to catch his breath. He looked at the story of the First carved on the walls, how he had fought with the opal user until his last days. He had discussed it primarily with Leena and then he remembered what she had said to him, meaning with all her heart

History cannot repeat.

He shook his head, restraining himself from thinking more about this. It was, out of all people, Zarina Khan who had given him the unwanted information. There wasn't any necessity to pay attention to whatever she had blurted.

He picked up his pace and walked out of the temple. Leena was sitting beside the sculpture, her face expression looked tensed. As soon as he walked up front, she finally noticed him and gave him a generous smile.

"Where have you been? I have been trying to connect since a long time but..."

Leena continued to speak, but Pruthvi wasn't listening. Reaching closer, he pulled her into a fierce embrace and without seeking permission, without caring to alert her as always had, he forcibly slammed his lips onto hers.

-x-

Author's Note : Rest in peace, Zarina.