Time crept on swiftly as the shadow on the sundial.

The building of the Panchayat, a massive medieval castle built with reddish-brown bricks rose from between the snow-filled trees. Each corner consisted of towers and turrets, with the one in the middle beneath a giant dome displayed the large sundial, with its beads currently indicating fifteen minutes to two. With every passing second, I drove forward with the commitment and responsibility, but there was always a bundle of nerves.

I trudged along the walkway where the sides were covered with snow shovelled across it. The entrance to the lounge was right there and my heartbeat pulsated through my body as went nearer. In a hazy blur it seemed like a gaping hole from where the knights holding muskets in their hands, were bustling around. In a split second, I envisioned one of them alerting his companion and jointly running this way to seize me. It was all in my mind though. I shook my head and found the knight simply bowing his head a little while I walked past him.

The trial was about to begin in a few minutes. I walked speedily pulling the sleeves of the jacket to get on with the challenge up ahead. The only hurdle that could stop me from attaining what I wanted was the possibility of the word spreading around about the disaster that had occurred in the correctional facility. I wished with all my conscious for the trial to end before the supplements safeguarding the facility faded away and showed the reality. I had locked the unfortunate knights inside as well. For the moment, I was absolutely safe and instead of dwelling on what could happen, I mused over what was to be done once I stepped inside the lounge.

Beside the entrance, someone familiar was standing alone and unmoved watching the colossal painting. It was Nazira with her eyes enlarged and scanning the painting thoroughly. Swallowing a bile and in great need of replenishing spirit and morale, I took a diversion and went to talk to her.

The painting she was staring with such attentiveness belonged to the First High King of Paramarashtra, her eyes lingering on his hand holding the long royal glossy stick, the scepter that has been passing down since ages and now being in the hands of the current High King, Imtiyaz Jaffar.

"Nazira," I said, gently placing my hand on her arm and making sure that none of the knights were paying attention at us.

She responded to my gesture, turning around carrying the same quizzical expression on her face. "Hayden? Good, you're here. There is something I need to tell you..."

"Bhupathi is dead," I whispered, and quickly grasped her hand before she gasped in horror and showed any other signs that could draw attention. Her skin was burning with fever, warmer than the sensation I'd get from my magical fire. "Don't panic! Stay relaxed."

She seemed hardly to breathe."Did you...?"

"No!" I said, gazing into her panic-stricken eyes lined with light kohl that compelled me to tell the truth. "I...don't know. But I'm definitely guilty."

She grimaced. "What does that even mean?"

A high pitched alarm blared and I held back startled. It was to warn the commencement of the trial. "I'll talk to you later," I said and walked away from her.

"No, wait! Hayden! You really need to know this!"

Her voice in my mind sounded too stern but I was left with absolutely no time to hear her out. I'd atleast mentioned it to her and that did assuage the feeling of guilt and stress.

For the second time of the day royalty gathered in grandeur at the front portion of the lounge. Ashwant had called it as the stage and was divided into two tires. The High King, a short aged man with most of his face covered with a silvery beard and his head with a white velvet turban, was seated in the wooden throne carved with intricate designs. A knight serviced the King of the kings by placing a glass of water on the heightened table. The presenter placed a stacked copy of papers in front of him. At the second level, the rest of the kings were seated in a row. Ashwant walked around the stage and graced himself on the wooden chair placed next to the High King. He caught my eye as I entered and smiled fondly.

The wooden shiny floor, the roof a retractable dome fixed with heavy pulley system, the mirrored walls, and the brightness from the lamps added the splendor to the whole lounge.

Amidst all the people gathering, I watched Pruthvi and Leena being involved in a serious conversation with King Aghasthya who seemed to be impatient already. He noticed me approaching, relaxed his shoulder down and gestured my friends as a cue to indicate my arrival.

Both of them hurried towards me, as the King walked away to take his position with other Higher officials of the Panchayat. 

"Where the heck have you been?" Pruthvi murmured through his gritted teeth. "Mr. King was driving us nuts!"

"Archit?" I asked, pulling both of them towards a secluded dim corner.

"Unconscious," he replied. "Bhupathi?"

"Dead."

"What the hell!"

"Save it for later," I muttered, as a dumbstruck Leena placed her hands against her dropped jaw. "Listen to me carefully because I'm going to say it only once. This is a delicate moment and we are given only one chance. So I'm going to race against the time."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Nazira sitting beside Ira Zutshi and Dhanunjay somewhere in the large audience of people facing the stage. Few of whom were the Harakara, ready with paper and pencil.

"I figured what Doctor and Celina were doing in Uttarameer," I continued, "and this changes the entire plan. They'll be calling us any minute so I can't tell you everything in detail, except requesting you two to trust me on this."

"Hayden..." Leena gasped.

"I am not discussing with you," I interjected. "I'm just telling you that I'm going to go for it, no matter what. And because I'm the only one to know what Doctor was doing all this time, I want you both to stay absolutely silent throughout the trial and let me do all the talking."

"Next up," the Presenter announced the very second. The lounge came to a strained standstill. "Under the Official Sanction Act of 1965, the third Generation Samagraha- Hayden Mackay, Pruthvi Krishna, and Leena Savanth had placed an appeal asking for liberation. The decision will be based on the responses given to the questionnaire. The three Samagraha must come forward and take your position at the stand."

My heart thudded in my chest. "Let's go."

"Just tell us this," Pruthvi said, his eyes amber and soaked with bewilderment. "Are you going to do something that Doctor started?"

I shook my head. "I'm going to do something that Doctor never started."

---------------------------------------------------------

Pruthvi and Leena stood on either side of me. We greeted the officials with the Paramarashtrian respectful 'hello' gesture-hands conjoined together without interlacing fingers and sticking it against our hearts.

"At ease!" High King ordered, his voice croaky yet loud and demanding that we instantly changed our stance to the comfortable position.

Ashwant smiled and gave a gentle nod as we abided by the strict disciplinary etiquette he had reminded us to follow this morning. He also had urged us not to be too adventurous in front of all the kings and ruin the given chance. Now how far I'd be able to follow that, I wouldn't know.

The silence was unnerving and there were just the sounds of a few coughs and sneezes. I was grateful for the fact that the wall behind High King's throne was also mirrored. I searched through the audience and there she was, already having her anxious eyes affixed on the three of us.

"Harsh's grandson," began the High King, "State your full name."

You've gotta be kidding me. "Hayden Mackay."

"I repeat my question," he said stressing on his words, his voice getting stricter. "State your full name."

I took a pause, realizing his intention and gaped into his eyes that were flashing a hint of mockery. My nerves pricked. Too soon for the self-respect though. "Hayden Vadim Mackay."

"It's perfectly alright to not to get rid of the burden of your last name," he slurred, "But we care about your nationality. So tell us, were you atleast born in the country?"

I frowned in confusion, not understanding what this had anything to do with the appeal that I'd lodged. "No, your majesty. I'm a half-Paramarashtrian and not born in the country."

"Your Majesty," King Aghasthya suddenly said leaning over to look up at the High King, " According to the laws of the Shreni system, being a Samagraha, he automatically is considered a citizen regardless of his birthplace. Doctor went through all the struggles to attain legal rights for him and every other Samagraha who weren't born in the country."

"I know that Aghasthya," said the High King sternly, "Let the boy speak. I'd like to know how much he knows about himself."

King Aghasthya's face turned grim as he slid back down in his chair. Ashwant crossed his hands and tried to look non-judgy.

"Are you aware that you are legally a Paramarashtrian citizen?" the High King asked.

My muddled brain wouldn't let me answer in a haste. I felt my palms slightly sweaty.

"Be tactful," whispered Pruthvi.

"Confuse them," muttered Leena.

I sighed softly, realizing my friends were right beside me forever having my back. "I was told that I'm the protector of the country. That I have to dedicate the rest of my life to the welfare of the citizens. I've accepted what I'm chosen for. Never cared about whether there was a requirement to be one."

"And now?" The High King asked, who seemed to be a bit satisfied with the answer I'd given.

"I am thankful to you for making the fact clear."

He tilted his head. "Do you know as a citizen of Paramarashtra, you have no right to discard the laws stated under the Act of Nirnaya?"

My eyes shot open with a sudden jolt of awareness. So the High King was himself taking advantage of finally having me in the Panchayat, and questioning my entire commitment to the laws. Either that, or he was extremely maddened at me for shaming a King of Madhyakshetra in front of the entire country.

The High King went on when I remained silent. "On what grounds do you, the grandson of Late Harsh Thribhuvan, have the authority to make delays in putting the Codicil to Will into effect?"

That kind of thing was getting intolerable to hear. "I work under the orders placed by a King. I don't see myself as one. I'm a Samagraha first..."

"...who is chosen to safeguard the entire country. Seeing you making this delay shows your apprehensiveness of taking a single dynasty under your care. Now you have the audacity to stand in front of me asking for liberation? On what basis should I even consider your appeal?"

Ashwant wiped his face getting antsy with the ten minutes of seemingly no success of this proceeding.

"Stay calm," whispered Leena.

"He is trying to provoke you," whispered Pruthvi.

Bhupathi was right. The sting operation against him had severally kindled the resentment towards me. However, I let my emotions take control over instead of the logic since this kind of treatment was obvious from these arrogant elites.

"Your Majesty," voiced the other king of Madhyakshetra,  "He is just a twenty-year-old boy. He is wise enough to pass on this legacy to someone more capable and knowledgeable."

King Aghasthya shook his head. "Under section twelve of the Act of Nirnaya, age, if taken as a matter of consideration, is nullified upon the expiration of the previous ruler. And wasn't he close to eighteen when he officially became a Samagraha?"

"He has to be either a Samagraha or a king," the chief minister of Purvachand chimed in, "He cannot be both. Never in the history of Paramarashtra, a single person has carried both the designations. Since he cannot forgo his bonding with the Samaratna, it is justifiable to make the Codicil ineffective."

"In that case," protested King Aghasthya, "The original Will shall come to power, according to which Shashi Thribhuvan takes over the dynasty. Are we in a position to hand over the throne to him?"

"Aghasthya, he is unfit to be a king. Name one quality that speaks of his ability."

"He defeated Shaytan Rup."

"That's because he is the Samagraha, which is quite expected of him. He is good as a Samagraha. We should let him be one."

The matter had to break into an open debate, which soon seemed to be on the verge of creating a rancor among them. The buzzes and murmurs throughout the lounge surfaced, and Harakara got busy writing the events down. I felt my face contorting with puzzlement watching the Kings going on and on, making a statement each on my capabilities. Are these oldies fighting like kiddies going to decide my future? Who gave them the right to pose these meaningless explanations of whether or not I'm fit to carry both the designations.

Pruthvi was right, they were provoking me. And I mentally apologized to Leena, I couldn't stay calm anymore.

"Would you mind if I jump in here?" I shouted with a voice of thunder.