Pruthvi inhaled deeply. Stepping into this place and breathing its air after complete five months brought some old memories back- the days when he was brutally abducted, when he found the opportunity to talk his dead father, meeting his sister he never knew he had, and to finally losing his friend to his enemy-this place may persevere some vivid remembrances, and he couldn't deny that this was place he was born, thanks to Shourya for reminding him.
He suppressed the laughter directed to himself, realizing how his opinion on this place has altered, from the days when he never wanted a stone in his pocket, to finally accepting himself as a valuable Samagraha. And this has happened especially since he was given a second chance to live.
"What a nice weather!" Leena exclaimed, standing a little distance away from him.
Of course, the weather. How can he fail to notice it. It wasn't chilly, no whiteness of the snow, no ashened clouds. Just the golden glow spread across the sky, and fresh air filling his lungs making him feel exhilarated. It was the real Autumn, he once had experienced during his days as a no one back in Maine.
"Wow!" Leena cried, jumping on her toes, her back faced towards him.
He walked upfront to see what the fuss was about.
They were actually standing at a certain altitude, over a stacked up gigantic rocks. Stopping at the end of the cliff and leaning ahead to hold the fence, Pruthvi looked down and found himself and Leena exploring the enormous village they were transported in. Huts of Dakshinpur were circular with thatched roofs. He and Leena had seen the two storey huts of Paschimgarh. But this new place, Madhyakshetra, consisted of narrow and tall, cone shaped colourful thousands of cottages, built systematically in a fine number of rows and columns, with decent unsealed lanes between them.
Leena pointed at what seemed like a grand palace, high upon the hill overlooking the village. It had the architecture unlike Rawat's or Sharad's. It wasn't wide, but tall, five storey colossal building, with gold dome towers, an open porch with detailed magnificent pillars, complete ornate in its pattern. The one thing they didn't forget to notice was the white flag at the top of the dome, sporadically fraying with the dull wind.
"Look! There!" Leena said, excitingly.
She was pointing at another palace, in the opposite direction, built exactly and absolutely alike the one they had just seen, including the white flag waving at it's top.
This village looked rather colourful and full of life, people roaming nonchalantly outside their huts, travelling on carts and horses. It was well developed one, no wonder this was the capital province of Paramarashtra.
"Don't fall for it's glory."
They quickly turned around to look at Shourya walking towards them, Maruthi gliding from one of his shoulders to another.
"Sorry?" Leena asked.
"Madhyakshetra is no better place than Dakshinpur to live, when it comes to the terror reigning among the people. Most of Shashi's men live here for it's rich culture, it's easy for them to practise dark magic. And Madhyakshetra has a record of having highest crime rate, especially the missing cases of women."
Leena frowned. "It doesn't seem to me so."
"It's the month of the Fest, Leena," he said, "Paramarashtra wait for two whole years for this month to have a life, to be free. Since Shashi came to power, not even single murder case has been registered. So people don't mind coming outside their huts and live their lives to the fullest."
Pruthvi scoffed. "What, Shashi is a good person for this month?"
Leena chuckled.
Shourya replied, keeping his face straight, "People believe that he is scared of the deity."
YOU ARE READING
(Book 4) Hayden Mackay and The Fest of Vrindahina
Fantasy"One final question." I said. "Do I have to find out by myself about why I am called the Fire of Vengeance?" "Hayden..." "Now please don't tell me, that you don't know anything about it. Because I know, that you know." "And how did you know may I as...
