Part 1: The Declaration

Chapter 1: The Plight of Matsyasvi

He believed it would never happen again.

King Harsh mourned the deaths lying at the base of the waterfall. The prevailing wail against the sound of the blood-filled water racked his nerves. Bearing a heavy chest and hands clenched, he took a step forward. The burnt grass beneath his feet crunched. Tiny sparks of fire flew high above towards the red-rimmed moon. A loud cry for help made him blink out of his speechless stupor and mustered the courage to stare at this downright macabre turn of events.

He was away from Dakshinpur for a week and the attacker couldn't have found a better opportunity to destroy this perfectly functioning facility living under his care.

But why the agitation though? Hadn't he been warned before about this madness to come? No matter how much he stood there so deep in denial, King Harsh fathomed if it was the explosion of raw anger and hatred built towards him in the Panchayat. His urge to sanction official rights to the Clan of Matsyasvi had to become a serious point of contention for years. Why did it have to be so difficult? All he wanted was to provide equal rights to the entire worthy populace of the country, irrespective of their being. Such a simple measure was needed to be taken to survive the only hurdle, that was disrupting their peace and harmony.

A careful thought process had brought him down to this conclusion, to hide the clan under his continuous supervision and seek help from the Kings across the country to make this pursuit a success. It was the only suitable preventive measure against the thousand-year-old ridiculous vendetta that seemed on the verge of a catastrophe.

The current tragedy proved how wrong he had been.

The village was turned into a graveyard with unburied dead. The hundreds of huts laid in ruins, reduced to ashes and charcoal. Flames burning at the rooftops as a bonfire. The wisps of black smoke filling up in King's lungs. He tasted the vomit in his mouth looking at the lifeless bodies of the merpeople being dragged over to the shore by the currents of the pond. The severely bruised survivors were crying their hearts out.. they didn't want to live another day. They had enough.

The situation left the few surviving Matsysvi shocked and confused. He noticed the unhurt children, running back and forth to find their elders. The knights, busily involved in the rescue mission, were assisting to reunite the scattered families. However, the one who grabbed King's attention was lying unmoved, staring blankly, head placed over his dead mother's torso. Harsh warily averted his eyes, when his friend sat on his knees, caressing the boy's hair.

Doctor Krishant Veer, the young noble and the last of the ancient Lady Chandrika El Sayed's lineage, sat there brooding on fate's inexplicable blow. King Harsh's heart filled with an abundance of guilt, noticing a tear glistening down his friend's cheek. He had forced Doctor to bear the hatred of this clan for using a woman and her womanhood in the name of the future benefit of the country. Only if it weren't for his idea for making him adopt the unborn child of the mother...

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden low grunt. "This is legit Shashi."

The voice struck Harsh. "We are not going through this again, Aghasthya."

King Aghasthya snapped a look at Harsh and the two best friends stared daggers at each other. Their friendship once hailed as unbreakable, had lately turned notoriously fickle-strong in times of crisis and distant in the argument involving Shashi Thribhuvan.

"Your blind belief in your brother is the reason for these commotions!" King Aghasthya yelled.

"I've already made you aware of this." King Harsh argued in his sullen tone. "You know that the clan is magically protected. No humans, unless permitted, can pass through protective supplements. Shashi cannot enter this premise."

"Harsh, for heaven's sake, open your eyes. People are dying. Shashi is capable to enter because he is learning dark magic."

"Rubbish!"

"It was Shaytan Rup." Yodhin Ojha walked over with the information that helped to temporarily dismiss the kings' spat, albeit grudgingly. King Aghasthya stepped back, slightly threatened by the height and built of the Rawart's most noble knight.

"Survivors are safe now," Yodhin added, "Most of them aren't in critical condition and were able to give their statement. They claim no one has seen the attacker. Everything happened all by itself. Spontaneously falling dead. Limbs cut off. Hearts pulled out. Heinous acts as such are only possible by Shaytan."

"Have the medics arrived for the first-aid procedure?" asked King Harsh, his voice quivering and watching the knights using the cast nets to pull the dead bodies out of the pond.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Yodhin replied, "Everything's being performed according to Doctor's instructions. Queen Premila's assistance is useful too. Hopefully, the remaining survivors will live but..." Yodhin swallowed, dread flashing in his eyes.

"But?" asked King Harsh.

"They are restless. They are demanding answers. After all, they are not facing this for the first time."

"Shaytan Rup cannot work on his own. He needs firm direction," said King Aghasthya, "Who can possibly be..."

"Aghasthya, for the last time..."

"Do not give me ultimatums, Harsh," Aghasthya snarled, "It was your idea to move the clan to Dakshinpur despite Panchayat voiced their objection. You made them a part of your Dynasty when they should actually be living in Uttarameer. This is causing the whole Dakshinpur shiver to death, don't you get it? This clan belongs to Uttarameer, where Lady Matsyasvi resides. They must all live together. You broke their clan for absolutely no good."

"It was important. The protection Lady Matsyasvi gives them is not enough. Aghasthya, this clan is endangered. If you and I don't lend a helping hand then who will? They are Paramarashtrians too."

"Well then you earned the biggest accolades of the century for it," said King Aghasthya looking pointedly at the bodies floating in the pond. "If they stay in Dakshinpur under your care, they'll be extinct sooner than it is meant to."

"As long as Shaytan Rup's alive," said Doctor, walking nearer to them holding the boy by his wrist, "we might have to face this torture on a daily basis. Harsh, we successfully stopped Almourah and his clan from crossing the border, but this unseen danger is beyond our reach. Without the Samagraha, Shaytan Rup will forever remain unstoppable."

King Aghasthya harrumphed, glaring at Harsh, his eyes flashing the growing hatred towards his friend. "You did what?" he asked, his voice aghast. "You kept disappearing once in a while. Is that what you have been doing?"

The ground beneath their feet suddenly tremored. More help approached in the form of knights of the Sharad Dynasty. Their horses neighed in unison and reared kicking their impatient hooves up in the air.

Doctor was rendered momentarily speechless by King Aghasthya's reaction. He flicked his eyes to and fro at both the friends. A pang of guilt surfaced watching Harsh's hardened face. The king suspected if Doctor's unintentional slip-up was going to be the bane to destroy their friendship once and for all.

"See you in Panchayat," King Aghasthya said through his gritted teeth when Harsh remained quiet for a painful amount of time. His warning got Harsh hot under the collar. He threw a sharp look at his friend when the latter strode away instructing the newly arrived knights.

The boy got closer to Doctor and hugged his father's legs. His unwavering gaze glued to his dead mother. She was being carefully wrapped in a white loincloth and got pulled away from the spot.

"Your Majesty!" A whimpering voice distracted King Harsh.

The remaining of the clan-the wretched survivors- huddled together as a mob of twenty angry rebellions appeared rushing through the forest. Their skin was patched with gauze and bandages. King Harsh caught Yodhin's eye who nodded. That gave away a hint that they were the few survivors desperate for answers.

The discontent of the poor clan was being led by the oldest and the most experienced merman- the current head of the clan.

King Harsh took a step forward towards them, facing them eye to eye and with palms clasped together behind his back.

"Back off!" Yodhin said slightly enraged, "You were not supposed to..."

"Yodhin, allow them," King Harsh said in a slight panicky voice.

Yodhin, displeased, stepped back without once taking his eyes off the crowd.

"At ease," King Harsh said when the clan bowed in unison.

"Ashwanth!" The head of the clan bellowed. "Come here!"

Frightened, the boy hugged Doctor's leg tighter.

"It's alright," said Doctor, lifting his one hand up and pulling the boy closer, "He is with me. He needs his father."

The old man jerked. "You've just given him your name, Doctor."

"Why are you here?" King Harsh demanded. "Get to the point."

The King of Rawat empathetically stared at the old man who hissed with pain. His face was completely bruised and a streak of blood leaking down his forehead.

"How many times?" he said, his voice aggravated, "How many more of us?"

King Harsh stayed mum. He swallowed a huge bile and kept staring at the man who had pulled up the guts to speak with their King feigning nonchalance. He cast a fleeting glance at Aghasthya walking far away from him. The King of Sharad stepped up into his grand bronze chariot. Their eyes met for a moment before the chariot puller whipped the horses that began to cater. Whipped again, urging to their full speed.

"For four years," said the man, "we have been living this dreaded life, it's been getting harder than living in Uttarameer. You promised us peace and protection. You promised us human rights. You brought us here in the name of extending your kingdom, and the bondage."

"I need more time," said King Harsh and it was his self-esteem that had made him speak.

"That is what you have been saying since the day we met, Your Majesty!"

"How dare you question the King!" said Yodhin, enraged.

"Yodhin!" King Harsh shouted, widening his eyes "Do not interrupt. Let me deal with this. Stay out of it"

Yodhin huffed.

"As I mentioned," said King Harsh, getting back to the clan, "I need more time. I agree that several years have gone wasted in finding ways to stop Almourah from crossing the border..."

"We don't want you to keep finding ways, Your Majesty," said the man, "We have reached the stage where we can't wait for you to do something on someday that might or might not give us the desired results. As a king, we expect you to know the solution."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"In these four years we've learned a lot on how the royalty in this country works. A king in Paramarashtra must comply on the goodwill, and voice of the people must be taken into consideration in order to seek allegiance. So today we raise our voice and appeal to you to reconsider the rule you put forth."

"That will never happen!" King Harsh shouted, "My rule is the way of life my people and my kinsmen are supposed to live. I will never encourage killing. There can be another way."

"Then it is time for us to call withdrawal. Let us go back to where we'd migrated from. We prefer to live in Uttarameer as Almourahs' slaves rather than seeing our sons and daughters living a suffocating life of dread and fear."

King Harsh's eyes widened. This sudden outbreak of an argument had cast a heavy blow in his chest. "You prefer to stay as a slave instead of fighting for your rights?" He said, with disbelief. "No! We need to stick together, all of us until we acquire what we deserve."

Stillness fell among them. Although the inaudible murmur was filled around the vicinity.

"Harsh," Doctor then said, "With your permission, I would like to add a few words here."

Harsh looked obliquely at him and frowned. He was hesitant to give an answer. Doctor lifted the Ashwant up by his arms and walked up front to stand beside the king. He patted his son's back and said, "Ashwant Veer shall become the next master of the Diamond."

"Doctor, stop!" King Harsh gasped, as thunderous screams reverberated through the air. "This is something between you and the mother of this child."

"I need to do this, Harsh. You've done enough for them. Now the onus to give them the assurance lies upon me. Please, let me go for it."

King Harsh looked away disliking the secret being broken so early. It was great news that should have given them relief but rather raised a tensed curiosity among the few people with conflicting opinions.

"This is the truth," continued Doctor, "Almourah's thousand years old retribution is a curse to this country. He is required to be stopped. To disrupt Lady Chandrika's legacy was the only way possible. I may have adopted Ashwant in papers, but in reality, he is mine. Lady Matsyasvi herself has lent us a solution to bind Almourah in his territory and in return, she chose Ashwant Veer to bear the stone after I depart."

"Impossible!" said the old man, "You aren't one of us. You are human. Lady Matsyasvi wouldn't allow you to participate in the ceremony unless you're one of us."

"Ashwant's mother helped me. She accompanied me to the Lady. I admire the effort and the sacrifice she put to help me stop Almourah."

"If Ashwanth Veer is the next owner of the diamond, then..."

"This decision has been taken in order to respect Lady Matsyasvi's wishes to keep her clan safe. With the power, a tip that she has given me, Almourah and his clan shall not cross the border."

"But.."

"Moreover," Doctor continued, "King Harsh and I shall keep striving hard until Panchayat grants official rights that you truly deserve. The bond Ashwant's mother and I shared, shall give enough scope for persuasion. The belief that humans and Matsyasvi can live together in peace can be instilled in people's mind. But if you decide to go back...it may take more time to initiate an alternative plan and implement it, not to mention Almourah and Lady Matsyasvi's grudge against one another may worsen."

The murmur resumed. The old man dropped his teary gaze down at the one-year-old boy who stood silent and terrified. In the gleaming red light of the moon, King Harsh spotted a glint of hope returning with the clan. His heart warmed.

"That's right," he said, "The Kings of the Rawat dynasty have always put varied efforts with a sole intention to achieve peace. It shall be attained only by holding the peace in your heart, through love and perseverance. Going against my principles can never be the right approach. It will only give rise to more enemies, which this country cannot afford. What happened today is beyond my understanding but I won't avenge, nor will my Dynasty and descendants. Because we do not kill. Period."

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