Part 2: The Expedition

Chapter 18: "Yes, I'm Leena!"

Killing is what she aimed to do.

Justice. Laws. My foot. They were only meant for the low-class thieves while the great ones run loose. Her loyalty and forbearance had a limit and she believed that the limit was reached. She no longer felt compelled to wait for the Panchayat's enactment, or for someone remarkable to arrive and protect her clan. She was her own person now. Her tampered soul wouldn't oblige to the ghoulish rules started by the king buried six feet under. The pledge to end the madness soared deep within her heart. She had promised herself to avenge terrible wrongs done to her and her beloved friends. This one person, the obsessive sleaze of a father, because of whom her friends had fallen apart, because of whom she had had a month full of terrible fate, deserved a harrowing experience of hell. Boy, this urge to see him cry in terrible pain, to see him choke and gasp for breath, to force him to lament the life he led...

Just one signal. One signal is all I need.

With Pruthvi being highly observant, she couldn't afford to play cat and mouse in Purvachand anymore. She was done waiting to encounter this person there. She was done depending on the sources she once considered foolproof. She didn't need to anymore. Her fever was mostly broken. The curse was finally lifting off. Doctor's take on his perspective insights on the unknown facts seemed to be proved right.

Thanks a million to her buddy Hayden- Yajna was absolute. Thanks to his efforts she could now exploit this close of the loophole. It was right there, the two-story hut at the end of the street overlooking the province. How well she could see it today, while others just the haze. She smiled feeling proud of this ability passed down to her. She touched her wrist adorned with the Moonstone stud bracelet and relished in its warmth. The shield, the curse that was meant to be broken with Shaytan's death, was indeed turning this ability as an additional power that came with her stone. Endira scores. In your pretty face, Haimavati!

Two months, she began chiding herself with vehemence for all the time wasted in making progress and then terribly failed to score a hit. For the past two months, she had actually been waiting for the fever to break, which was in her way to achieving the goal. Yet, instead of letting up, the struggle and battle with her health condition was worth it. She had satisfied her thirst for revenge by hiding in plain sight and being Pruthvi's second in command. She had kept him safe from getting trapped in this vile person's clever ploy of snatching his stone. Dropping his servants down dead with one shot had been a sleek practice session. Everyone knew Shashi's downfall shall begin with Pruthvi's first blow. And her sources had indicated the attacks on Pruthvi were only the repercussions of Shashi showing signs of being intimidated by her friend's alternative power.

Despite not being fully recovered from the illness, she had chanced to go on a hunt in the province where this vile person lived. Last night hadn't been fruitful, though. The one before that as well. She had attempted to enter the shimmering hut, waited for him the whole night. However, tonight there was this energy in the air, a hunch that she wasn't going to leave him unassailed and let him walk free on this Earth.

Just one signal...

There was a slight movement and her prayers were answered in the form of a grisly shadow emerging from the other side of the window. The curtains ruffled and that cynical swine came into the picture. Feeling exhilarated and alert, she looked closer to have the confirmation and of course, it was Jyran Kerenza. Yes, he was spending the night in his hut. She groaned slighting watching him stand behind the window for few moments adjusting his beaded chains. That stiff stance, that boastful persona... her eyes burned with the hatred she never knew she had in her. Too many people had suffered because of him, the abundance of anguish he instilled among those she loved. Tonight's feat must bring a scintilla of closure to it.

She kept staring at him until Jyran straightened the curtains and closed the window before he disappeared further inside the hut.

A gentle squeal from her beloved companion, Horsey, made her blink. "I know," she whispered, nodding to herself. "Don't tell me how to live my life." Her accent, clipped and posh like a Brit.

Horsey let out a meaty neigh.

She fumbled with the thick straps of the harness impatiently until she made absolutely sure of no one's presence in the neighborhood. She was worried mostly about Kumbh, who according to her was being the most devout Constellia. She squinted for a minute or two at the empty lane. Getting prompted, she untied the strap that was bound around the trunk of the tree and slide inside the thick bushes that marked the end of the street. A fine place to hide her companion was easy to find. She demanded it to stay there and to maintain pin-drop silence until she needed its services.

She stared at the porch door, dabbing her hand against her jacket. The lethal weapon felt solid and weightless as if it were a toy. She clambered out of the bushes, smoothed her purple hair tied back in a ponytail and pulled the hood of the jacket atop her head.

Bearing a hardened heart, she made the move.

The door blast opened creating ripples in the air. The intensive training with Doctor was worthwhile, she didn't need to utter the command anymore. The wind chime shuddered and rang out loudly, the sound echoing through the otherwise silent hut. The living room was dimly lit, the pungent odor felt too strong to inhale.

Meeeow!

A muffled meow sounded like a greeting. A black cat perched on a chair was scratching its ear with its leg. As she took a step inside, the eyes of the cat deceptively reminiscing a flashlight, enlarged in a sudden surprise. At once it bolted down and scooted underneath the chair amidst all the rich furniture.

"What's the noise?" Jyran slurred, seemingly being a little tipsy. He walked out of the kitchen, having a glass. full of Uilani, against his mouth.

Celina stood transfixed, perceiving the depth of horror in his eyes. The glass slipped out of his hands and the shattering sound resonated in the ears. "L...Leena?" He stammered.

She felt her lips curling into a mocking smile that made him wince a little. It was clear that he was so out of it. What a ditzy!  "Yes, I'm Leena. Thanks for reminding me that I do share a part of my name with my friend."

"Y...you've escaped? Impossible."

The more she smiled, the more miserable Jyran seemed to get. "Anything is possible is Paramarashtra, right?" She countered.

It took a few moments for Jyran to grasp the explicit significance of her statement. His features stiffened, though his eyes never shrunk back to normal. Incredulity was stamped on every part of his being. Squinting, he searched for the bottle containing the powder of Gates of Chandrika. Too bad, she spotted it before he could. With a slight flick of a hand, a gust of wind swept over the bottle placed on the table and smashed it against the wall. The suspended particles glittered in the air.

He cast a glance of scornful indignation. "I get it. Revenge, eh? Is it personal now?"

She shook her head, dismissively. "Pleasure. Purpose."

Flustered, he lifted his hand pointing at the intruder in an attempt to rip her skull apart.

"Aaargh!" She screamed dramatically bending her head down. closing sides of her temples with her hands. And then...she casually regained her posture and gave a contemptuous laugh. His magic did not work. How she wished Doctor were alive to see the miracle he had been expecting to happen.

That slack-jawed shock, that fearful twitch in his facial muscles...what a sight for her sore eyes.

"Some supreme warlock are we, doesn't even remember that Almourah's magic has no power over me," she said, cockily. "I'm standing inside your house, Jyran. How high must you be?"

Frozen. Shallow breathes.

Wooosh!

The entrance door closed shut with a slam. The windows of the hut were already dead-bolted. The cold wind circulating amidst them rocked the entire hut. Bewildered, Jyran fiddled with his beaded chains.

Celina took a step forward. All the qualms that had been bothering her needed to be gushed out off her chest. "Shashi played really safe. He chose a nice convenient time to go after Tyrell when I wasn't in the academy, didn't he?"

The windchimes rattled relentlessly with the strong current of wind.

"Having me locked up in Uttarameer must have given him a delight for a lifetime."

The furniture drifted back and forth, creating loud scraping sounds against the floor. Something small and dark, having its tail pointed up, scampered away in fear.

"That was a key part of the plan, WASN'T IT?"

His silence gave away the answers but Celina Hanslay couldn't resist the shock registering on his face. He was far too intimidated by the aura of her menace that she wanted to crack up in laughter. Corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. It was so charming to watch that her instincts triggered giving her tickling sensation to her nerves. She knew what began to brew in her mind, and under any circumstances, not even a lethal migraine, which she was currently suffering from, could keep her from reciting bad poetry.

"Sweating sweating.
Heart, beating beating.
So faint, stiff and cold
Thought you were enough bold
I came here for the damned redemption
Thanks for making me laugh,
before I send you to your final destination."

Jyran, obviously offended, began to show resilience to challenge her back. He relaxed his shoulders and flung his hands up. A sound of continuous blasts alerted her, the glasses somewhere from inside shattered by itself. A shower of sparks surfaced in the air, at once changing its form to evolve into black ghost bats with long pointy tails. Loud screeches emanated from them and with the speed of light, they swooped down towards her having their tails pointed straight ahead.

"Almourah's magic has no power over you," said Jyran, "How about Haima's?"

Celina hissed with frustration, the name stinging her before the bats could. Gritting her teeth, she waved her hand again. The technique Doctor had taught her seemed to be perfect for the situation. A hail of sharp-bladed wind spikes generated in the air and the bats dropped down dead one after the other as if a downpour.

Before Jyran could think of another attack, a gust of wind in the shape of a hardball fist charged and punched him in his gut. The force of the collision catapulted him backward and he slammed hard against the closet full of cutlery sets and innumerable test tubes. He shrieked in fright and landed down onto the floor. The glass items plummeted all over him.

"Don't even try to frighten me bringing her name up,' she warned, anger welling up. "It isn't going to work."

Thick glass chunks gave him several nicks and cuts all over his face and bare chest. He dusted a few off, regained his vigor, and sniggered. "Abilities entwined with heartstrings. I feel sorry for the third generation Samagraha."

"True. Just like how I feel sorry that you were ever born. Constellia Formation."

The black smoke billowed in the middle of the room. Vrishabha, the tall muscular Constellia emerged out of it, her armor clanked against the rope hanging down from her shoulder. The temperature dropped on her arrival, a sinister chill spreading over the proceedings. "Master?" she said, turning back at Celina.

"You know what to do," Celina said, "You've read my mind."

"No! Wait!" Jyran said, watching the huge Constellia rushing towards him. She pulled him up by his neck, thrust him against the wall. Cracks behind his head branched off. "Stop! What do you want? Tyrell's whereabouts?" He gagged, as Vrishabha squeezed his neck.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Celina said, "My friends are enough to figure that out."

"Don't do this, Celina," he urged, holding Vrishabha's hand and tears visible in his eyes. "Whatever happened that day it wasn't my call. Shashi requires your stone for the ritual he is preparing for. He promised to teach my son magic once I fetched him yours. Whatever I did was in favour of my son."

Celina gently shook her head. Anyone with an ounce of compassion could see him and his life was to be pitied, now that the death was about to claim him. "Vrishabha. Do it!" she demanded.

The Constellia shoved Jyran down to the floor and pressed her leg on his neck. Jyran bellowed in alarm and gagged. He held Vrishabha's leg, exerting pressure in a vain attempt to get away from her.

"Should I lock him up somewhere?" Vrishabha asked.

Celina snapped a look at her. "Where he can still breathe? No! I did not wait for all this time to let him breathe."

Vrishabha cast a dubious look as Celina pulled the razor-sharp butcher knife from beneath her hoodie. She pressed her fingers and wind circulated around it, making the blade sharper. "Remember this?" she asked, looking down at Jyran.

His panic-stricken face held up staring at the knife red-rimmed with the Doctor's dried blood. Celina swiftly walked ahead, feeling her face moist with sweat, guilty conscience pressurizing her to stop. She tightened her face muscles, letting this sickening feeling go. Strength flowed down her palm and with an instant swing she slashed the knife cutting through one of his legs.

"That's for my uncle!" She said grudgingly.

Vrishabha looked away slightly abashed.

Celina found Jyran's deafening scream as a steady rhythmical pleasure. Droplets of blood splattered on her face, a strong smell now filling inside the hut. Vrishabha took her leg off the crippled man's leg. She seemed to be racked by irrational guilt and stepped away. She was callously powerful, yet callously calm, faithfully allowing her master to engage in the brutal array of stabbings.

Jyran writhed over his own pool of blood and wailed. "Please! Have mercy!" He begged.

Celina walked around, hearing the dripping sound of the blood. Those continuous screams, she wanted it more. Against her soaring conscience, she lifted the knife slowly up and then swiftly down, slashing it through Jyran's right hand. It detached and slid aside. Blood poured out like water from a dam. "That's for my father like Doctor!"

Jyran's wail of anguish, though how soothing for her savaged mind of a killer, it had to come to a full stop. A human could, after all, tolerate only that much. He wavered with pain from the adrenaline aftershock. He began to wheeze, his eyes half-way closed. She dangerously crouched beside his face. Watched him breathe for just about a minute. How she pitied him for living a disastrous life when he could have a respectful one bearing such a son with a pure soul. She could never feel sorry for him. No, she wasn't sorry.

"Please!" Jyran whispered.

Before tears filled up in her eyes, she went for the final blow. "This is for messing up with the life of the man I love!"

And the last thing Jyran watched with his terror-struck eyes was the pointy edge of the knife racing down towards his gaped mouth.

The scream deadened, so did seemingly, the time. Celina remained still, hearing her own breath. She calmly took her hands off the knife watching the lights fade away from the eyes of the corpse, while tears began to gather in her own. Damn the heart, why it has to betray her now. The guilt of killing was taking her over yet again. She swallowed a lump trying to stay stone cold staring at Jyran's wide eyes directed up towards the way leading to hell.

"Master," said Vrishabha, "This is not how it is supposed to be. We don't kill humans. We save them from perishing danger."

"And I just perished the danger," she said, lifting her lids, tears coursing down her cheek. "This is the only way. We have talked about this."

Vrishabha darted her eyes away. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Her own Constellia made her feel more guilty. "I know I let you down. Forgive me, if you can?"

"You are free to seek my assistance, master," she said, "Not the forgiveness. Endira never..."

"Well, I'm not Endira. Get used to it."

The bitterness between them came like a bullet plumb to her heart. Vrishabha then disappeared and that brought back the feeling of loneliness. She dropped completely down on the floor of the damned hut and tears spilled out like a fretful stream. She couldn't resist, she had to let go of the guilt building up in her system. She knew, the moment she walked out of the hut she had to forget her past, and move on.

Her past...the day she'd decided to resign herself from the academy to become a full-fledged Samagraha, at that moment the decision had been the right thing to do. To carry on her family's legacy. To dedicate her life for the clan she belonged to. To protect them from all evil-doers. Then why did it hurt so much today? She had never meant to leave her friends behind, had she? And now things had turned upside down, only because of her decision to stay apart.

Haimavati, you did this to me!

Meeeow! The cat purred coming out from the disfigured furniture. Celina wiped her tears, sniffed and watching the animal, who was as alone as her, she regained her composure.

Oh, poor kitty! She crooned in her mind. Feeling tired, she slowly walked over, took the cat in her hand and caressed its back ever so gently. Her eyes were heavy, she was badly afflicted by the migraine, but not as much the ache in her heart. The displaced rocking chair beside the window seemed so comforting and that velvety cushion over it attracted her. She was more than finished with this night. Having the luxury of leaning back in the chair, she rocked back and forth hearing the gentle creaking sound that she considered as the sweet lullaby being sung for her. The cat stayed still in her lap as she closed her eyes to slip into a desperate sleep and spent the rest of the night in peace sitting beside the grisly dead pieces of the body.

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