Strangely Familiar

"Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth." - Henry David Thoreau

A few days ago -

Inside The Circle of Truth

“What do you mean she is one of them?” Mr. Rajan Patil tried to fight off the creeping sensation of water prickling underneath his knees.

He and his wife were tied to their respective seats the moment they tried to move. It was an invisible string holding them erect, ceasing even the slightest muscle movement. The enhanced water underneath them paid no heed. It continued to raise its level despite their honest efforts.

Shreeparna Patil whimpered as the marks on her skin took the shade of dark purple. The water was draining their energy. She could feel her legs weak as she tried to pull herself together.

“She is magical, a mage as they call themselves. My ancestor, the first witch tried to stop them from ruling our world. They fought in this gruesome battle and the Mage were defeated. The army was led by Shaurya Lomhani himself. His curse froze her magic so it couldn’t be transferred down the line right before she locked him up in the portrait. When his army came to know about their chief, they fled. They have this mark on their wrist, a half-crescent symbol that distinguishes them from the rest.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Mr. Patil was a wise man. Surely, he would have understood her had he mentioned it once. The fact that his wife had to carry and bear such a load all by herself was disappointing.

“I was scared,” Mrs. Patil cried in a vain attempt to free herself, “that you might not understand and feel deceived. I didn’t think any of this could happen.”

Rajan Patil listened carefully picking up details. “If you never intended to adopt her, why did you?”

“To keep her away from them, of course.” Mrs. Patil said in a heartbeat. She turned sharply at her husband who appeared in deep thought. “She was just a child. They would have used her for their ghastly and nefarious tasks. I wanted to keep her away from them as long as I can.”

“The water is still rising.” Mr. Patil commented suddenly as the level of water reached his waist. He side glanced at his wife who was staring at the dark water in fright. “You are missing something.”

He wanted to reach out and comfort her, assure her that he wouldn’t accuse her of anything no matter how hard it is.

“I...,” Mrs. Patil started, her voice graved matching her expressions. “I may have had her magic locked inside her mind using one of the old methods.”

Her husband only stared at her unable to articulate his thoughts.

“Only so they won’t reach her. Magic calls magic. It’s their absolute and unspoken law.” She defended herself, crying softly.

Mr. Rajan Patil was not a magical being but he shared a close bond with his daughter, magic or not.

“You punished her for someone else’s mistake?” He whispered in an incredible tone. The dark water reaching his chest was long forgotten.

“That’s not punishment.”

“What else do you call when you lock someone’s dominating personality trait? No wonder she felt so odd.” He stopped abruptly, looking at her with pained eyes. “Do you know I once took her to a psychiatrist because she couldn’t jerk off those odd feelings that didn’t make any sense? She refused to tell you anything about it because it would only add to your stress.”

Mrs. Patil stared into oblivion. Her expression did not falter. There was no sense of surprise, shock, or any form of recognition on her face. Her husband was breathing heavily as realization dawned upon him.

“D-Did you know about the repercussions?”

“Yes, all of them.” She nodded staring ahead.

Her husband was no longer fighting off the dangerous water that stayed standstill and refused to increase its level any further. A sense of guilt was shadowing his emotions as he spoke in a desperate voice.

“You could have just left her in the orphanage. Let her be on her own. Instead, you chose to block her mind and raise her under your supervision. She is not a puppet.”

“I told you why I did that.” Her voice was devoid of emotions.

The dark water started to rise again as if sensing lies and Mr. Patil chuckled in irony. He doesn’t need water to tell him his wife was still not telling him the truth.

“What is it, Shreeparna?”

Shreeparna Patil gasped at such a formal reference. Her husband has never once used her official name to call her since they got married, and it’s been seventeen years.

“You said you wanted to have children and I couldn’t conceive.” She whispered in a tight voice. “When we went to the orphanage and you were doing the paperwork, I took a stroll and saw Naina. They called her Akira. She was hurt - paper cut. Her finger was bleeding. I thought to help but to my surprise, the wound disappeared and the skin healed on its own. To be certain, I checked her hand and that’s when I saw the mark. There were stories I read about healing magic as a kid. They can cure anything incurable. I thought her magic might cure the complications I was suffering from.”

Mr. Patil couldn’t believe his ears. He listened as she sniffed before continuing. “I kept her magic intact for the next two years. I revisited the Mansion to collect every book and journal that explained how to use blood magic. I never intentionally tried to hurt her, I just wanted children of my own.”

“Those cuts in her hands?” Rajan Patil was horrified and startled at the same time. “It was you?”

Her voice grew hoarse as she kept defending her statement. “But then one day, her magic reacted and spun out of control. It was defending itself and destroying everything else. That’s when I knew I had put a leash around it, and with her magic locked she forgot everything.”

“And yet she couldn’t fight off those fleeting feelings.” He shook his head, ducking his head in guilt like he was physically reliving her pain again.

“Are you sure Shaurya Lomhani is the monster here, Shreeparna?” Her husband ground his teeth in anger, his eyes were burning with tears. The ropes binding him did nothing compared to the detriment a few words caused further constricting his chest and crushing the feelings of his numbing heart.

“We are all flawed. I only did this so our family can live happily.”

“We were happy.” Rajan Patil exclaimed, looking at her strangely like he could no longer recognize the person sitting beside him. His voice strained nonetheless defeating hers. “You were only driven by greed.”

The ropes around them untangled the knots freeing them completely. The dark water surrounding them reached their necks before retreating to its origin. Even with granted freedom, the two of them did not move an inch. Mr. Rajan Patil felt paralyzed after hearing her confessions. His blind faith in her was shattered into pieces.

“Let’s get out of here.” Mrs. Patil murmured taking her husband’s hand and urging him to move.

He yanked his arms away from her, expelling such intensity of anger that his wife never witnessed before. “Go where exactly? I don’t have it in me to face my daughter after listening to what you have done.”

He got up, making his distance from her clear his mind.

“Please dear, please understand. I only did this for us, our family, our future.” Shreeparna Patil chanted refusing to hear what her husband has to say. In her mind, she was not the culprit. She was only trying to make things right.

“The fact that you still think you did this for anyone but yourself astounds me.” He yelled, raising his voice for the first time. “I cannot believe you.”

“It’s much bigger than that. His powers combined with hers can dismantle our world.” She exclaimed trying hard to make him see beyond the lurking situation. “It was prophesied ages ago. There hasn’t been a healer mage in centuries.”

“You always said that you did not know the real story of your ancestry.” He shook his head in disappointment, resting his hand on his forehead. “I trusted you.”

“I know I hid it from you.” She whispered furiously. “But please understand, it is for all our well-being.”

He paced around the room trying to release his troubling anger. “Manipulating your family? Hiding truth? Torturing a child? Do you call that well-being? Even that man is better than you, Shreeparna. At least he owns everything he has done.”

Shreparna Patil covered her ears to block his voice. She couldn’t comprehend why her husband failed to see the sacrifices she has done for him. She raised Naina like her daughter despite knowing who she is and where her heritage stems from. It’s not like she committed a crime by using her blood magic in an attempt to heal herself. People do that all the time.

“This is all his doing. He is making us against one another, don’t you see?” She screamed, her cry in desperation and frustration. “He is a monster.”

“And you think you are any better? What possessed you to do such things?” Mr. Patil squeezed his eyes shut in vain.

Mrs. Shreeparna Patil’s expressions suddenly blanked. It felt like someone just splashed a bucket full of ice-cold water at her. The secrets deeply buried within her were now out in open. She felt too exposed and tired of explaining herself regardless of her consistent efforts. If her husband refused to see it, she cannot be held responsible for what happens next.

“I hoped this to work, but if that’s what you think then I’m truly sorry.” She spoke in an alien voice, detached and devoid.

Before Rajan Patil could ask, she stretched her arms to her side, she whispered to the walls around her. “Truth in bits and lie in spree, I demand you to set me free.”

At the mention of her words, the walls around her started enclosing them, shortening the distance between them.

Staring right into his eyes, she whispered. “There’s another thing you should know. Freedom always has a price.”

“I did say I trust you with my life. I suppose it’s only fair.”

Mr. Patil saw the walls moving towards the tight space ready to crush anything within. For the crimes he unknowingly and unintentionally participated in, this could be his salvation. He smiled and closed his eyes embracing his impending doom.

**********

Shreeparna Patil was teleported outside the gate of the Mansion. She used a black shawl to cover her face in the dead of the night and followed the path that led to the west wing.

It was a full moon night. The night when every magical creature roamed freely in space. She had read that in one of the ancient journals. Walking quietly and carefully, she marched forward until she came face to face with the door of the Wing.

Knowing magic responds to her, she mumbled in a clear voice.

“Let me in.”

The doors as if sensing her presence opened on their own inviting the visitor in. Shreeparna Patil stepped inside with the door closing behind her. She walked hurriedly, crossing corridor after corridor as if she already knew where she was going. Jogging down the step, she came across a connecting underground passage.

Taking one last left, she reached an iron door with a hand imprinted on it followed by a hollow space. She knew it was the door that led to the Median having read about it in her childhood. Though she cannot physically access it, she knew the voice resounded in thunder thus making it audible to every magical being.

“A healer mage is in existence. Extend your protection to me and my line, and I shall aid you with her whereabouts.”

She will do everything in her power to turn the prophecy void.

With that Shreeparna Patil turned on her heels and left the passage.

Magees’ Journal Page 126

Aiding properties of Healing Magic

For centuries, magic’s most desired gift has been the ability to heal. It makes a mage both powerful and vulnerable at the same time. Healing not only extends to one’s own flesh and blood but also aids anyone with whom the magic comes in contact. Usually, a gift is something a mage use for themselves. It attaches itself to its core and supplies magic in its body. Like one’s ability to fly, a mage requires the gift to manipulate the elements around them thus making it possible for them to apply antigravitational force. It makes them feel powerful in both offensive and defensive magic.

However powerful healing magic may have proved across centuries, it makes a mage rather vulnerable and prone to attacks. The more power they channel through their bodies, the weaker they get. That property in itself goes against the very nature of true power. Unlike any other gift, a healer’s magic lies in its blood.

According to historical records, there was once a mage, name unknown, who unintentionally showcased their powerful magic of healing. It was known that the mage returned seconds after falling into the clutches of death. Their magic pumped up supplies required for survival granting them a second life. The news spiraled around the village and every magical creature started coming after the mage. A hunter caught and forced them to perform the spell to heal his cursed hand - that his opponent fired in a heinous battle, but when nothing happened, he was driven by blind fury accompanied by a sense of deception flaring that he was misguided, the hunter tried to cut off the mage’s arm. The blood spilled on his clothes and onto the ground changing its form, and creating brilliant sparkles under dim light. In an attempt to wipe it off, the hunter used his wounded hand and to his surprise found the nasty mark no longer scarred his hand. However, the mage couldn’t survive due to excessive loss of blood.

It was later concluded that it is the blood of the healer mage that can cure incurable and nasty curses. The depth of the particular segment of magic is yet uncertain as there have been no further details of its reoccurrence. The truth is with the powerful healing core, the mage can achieve the impossible but how far is one willing to go to reach such a level of impossibility is a question of concern.

While many believe it to be a true form of Magee’s gift, the rest dismissed it as a bedtime tale for there has been no known mage who possesses healing magic. Perhaps, it is just an imaginary disposition, or perhaps the ones who were unfortunate enough to acquire kept it a secret for their own sake.

She shut the copy and enclosed her arms to cover her face, resting her head against the table.