Strangely Familiar

“Civilization begins with order, grows with liberty and dies with chaos.” - Will Durant

The chaos broke out.

Samraat yelled, losing his balance, tripping on the floor, his arms floating at the sudden pull of gravity, yet somehow taking support of the arm of the sofa at the last second, and though, his fingers slipped along with the cover, they did halt his speed earning him a few microseconds, thus reducing the severity of blow that undoubtedly arrived. He grunted the moment his elbow struck the floor, which was still vibrating in uneven motion.

The ground beneath them shuddered, the walls of the Mansion shaking and trembling as things around them lost their fight with gravity and collapsed on the floor, lying so casually, one would assume they found a new home, selfishly without paying any heed to the living beings around it. The earthquake dislodged several showpieces and antiques to the ground.

The chandelier above their head was swinging to and fro at an alarming speed, as if it was relentlessly trying to break itself free, feeling compelled to hug the ground beneath it, ignoring the pleas and panic of individuals, who would undoubtedly be crushed beneath, should it fall on them.

Rahil Kazmi lost consciousness for only seconds before he realized the need of the hour and rose to his feet like a man in action, placing himself back in the role of a detective, quick in his task as he launched himself to get hold of the younger ones to lead them out. Aged he may be, his bones were strong enough to fight and survive.

Tia jostled, against the wall, legs refusing to do their job, as her arms struggled to get a hold of something within her reach. A hand shot out and grabbed her arms to pull her upright. Mr. Kazmi balanced himself but only just.

Supporting one another, the four of them got together and tried to walk towards the door of the Wing. Reaching the entrance, Tia tried to push the door open, but it wouldn’t budge.

“You would think something sealed the entrance.” She spoke in panic. “It’s jammed.”

“If the roof falls on us. We are toast.” Samraat yelled, banging the door before leaning against it, fear gripping his tone.

“We need to get out.” Mr. Kazmi shouted and tried to push his weight against the heavy door to knock it down. No windows were guarding the entrance. The door was iron, making it impossible to break their way out.

Naina knew the tremors were the result of some magical disturbance. Her adoptive mothers’ voluntary and reckless approach triggered the magic inside the wall to ricochet off the polished floor they were currently standing on, exploding around them. Her eyes searched for something - anything that could help them with the situation, as the other occupants tried to unlock the entrance, but mostly trying to fix their balance on the ground.

The bits of the roof started to collapse on top of them. The dust swirled around them as Tia sat on the floor, inclining against the surface, dejectedly.

“We only have seconds left,” Samraat yelled in utter panic, striking his arms against the door with twice the force. “Please open the door.”

“I don’t want to die.”

Their voices were all mingled up, yelling and screaming in panic.

Naina looked back in haste. Was this it? They were all going to die.

Contrary to the situation, she took a deep breath to calm herself and summoned her shield. Warmth spread through her body the moment the shield enveloped her. She tried hard to extend her magic to others. Her arms started to shake, realizing only an instant later that the level of power it required was beyond her, yet she chose not to lose hope.

This was their do-or-die moment.

Feeling her shaking beside him, Mr. Kazmi diverted his attention to her. “Naina, what are you - ”

He stopped as bits of powdered chalk, plastic, and dust roamed around them in circles, not truly reaching and affecting any of them. It was like an invisible dome above their heads, preventing bits of plasters, broken bricks, and stones from knocking them off.

“She can’t hold it for long.” Samraat cried.

They tried to knock the door down. Though it shifted slightly, there was not enough space for them to squeeze off.

Naina felt herself drain of energy as her shield collapsed, and she fell to the ground.

Her eyes felt heavy.

If this is it, so be it.

Light flashed in her eyes as something sharp came into her vision. She squeezed her eyes close all the time, attenuating her panic, which was rolling in her eyes, and restoring her energy. She suddenly felt very light.

The termors reduced its intensity and eventually stopped.

Releasing a sigh of relief that they had been holding, their gasps were more prominent and pronounced than words could have been.

Naina barely realized as someone helped her to her feet and asked if she was okay. Her mind could not register after the massive display of shielding charm. She merely nodded, looking at the source of magic and their apparent Savior.

“I was tempted to let it happen after what you all did to me if it only wasn’t for you,” Ayaan sounded bored, curiously gazing at his fingernail than the panic-driven faces, who were half horror-struck and half stunned at his arrival, and since, he was completely unfazed and unruffled by the situation they were in, he couldn't help but add a tone of displeasure.

“You are not welcome.”

The four of them gaped at him for seconds longer, still unable to recover from having been so close to their impending doom. It felt like their respective brains needed a time-out for some peculiarly outlandish reason that was beyond their comprehension and failed to send signals to their irregularly beating heart, all consumed in panic and anxiety that firmly gripped them inside out, that they were no longer seconds away from death.

Rahil Kazmi was pretty quick at normalizing back to his original state as he got up, his legs shaking slightly from previous experience, and walked over debris carefully. The man got hold of himself remarkably well and became the first to find his voice, trying his best not to shudder.

“Thank you,” said he, resting against the wall that stood firm once again.

Ayaan did not bother to address his gratitude. He stared at the broken pieces of the portrait of His Majesty that now lay on the floor. Carefully, he walked over to where the painting lay, shattered on the ground, and held the frame securely within his grip, murmuring something none could capture.

Samraat was too shocked to utter a word. Somewhere in the back of his head, a voice urged him to step forward and extend his appreciation, but his physical body stayed rooted, too shaken up to move an inch.

“I need you,” Ayaan spoke to no one in particular.

Naina understood he was indicating her unless he meant the portrait which would be incredibly foolish since it wasn’t real and only reeked of dark magic. Cautiously, blinded, and illogically fearing the ground might shake again at her movement, she reached, her legs still shaky from her last bit of magic, as she stood next to his crouching form, still accessing and analyzing the portrait.

She leaned and crouched next to him, shuffling uncomfortably, unable to wipe off the shivers still lingering in her body. Slowly and gradually, everyone in the room shifted and sat next to one another while maintaining distance from the portrait, their legs no longer feeling the trembling vibrations.

Naina saw the calculative look on their faces, silently questioning the authenticity of her judgment but said nothing.

She turned her head and focussed on Ayaan instead, looking at him expectedly.

“Your blood,” he spoke so casually and carefree like he was asking for her opinion on the International Icon, “Just a drop will do.”

Naina openly stared wide-eyed.

“It’s just a portrait.”

Ayaan was concentrating so hard on the portrait that he refused to glance at her. “Clearly.”

“It kills a mage.”

“It won’t anymore.”

“No?” This time it was Mr. Kazmi who spoke, unable to suppress his unwieldy interest anymore.

Ayaan’s sharp gaze landed on the person under question, who matched his look without batting his eyes. His eyes narrowed slightly and traveled back to the girl sitting beside him. He dug his hand inside his pocket, and took a small knife, determining his sharpness by running his thumb lightly to its edge.

“Do you mind?”

He didn’t wait for her response, took her hand, and gently tapped the edge of the shape end towards her fingernail, pressing it until blood spilled out.

Naina hissed quietly as she let him do his will.

The portrait of Shaurya absorbed the drop of blood dissolving into the colors before they started to merge and eventually vanished, leaving a sore blank page in its wake.

“I didn’t say yes,” Naina murmured, finding his intrusion slightly vexing.

“You didn’t say no, either.”

“Where did he go?” Tia asked in horror, subconsciously looking around, afraid she might witness the man in the flesh, and though a part of her still wished to seek him, another much dominant side always took over and refrained from doing so.

Ayaan smirked and got up, leaving them all baffled.

Naina felt a sensation running down her spine. It was strangely comforting as she breathed it in, consuming its essence in all selfishness, if only to calm herself down.

“Answer the question, Ayaan,” She spoke in a somewhat husky tone, still recovering from a peculiar feeling dimming her senses.

“Have you ever wondered how Aruha, a mere mortal, defeated His Majesty, the Immortal heir?”

Samraat and Tia visibly gasped.

All the mumble-jumble of the poem they read during their first search was suddenly making sense to them. There were times when they often debated regarding the kingdom and its reference in the current scenario but never quite reached a satisfactory conclusion.

To think Shaurya Lomhani is truly Royalty was both surprising and shocking at the same time. Notwithstanding their startled state, they restrained their emotions from revealing further, exchanging glances, secretly confirming the fact.

“Aruha stole the main ingredient from Magee and buried it in the ground, the same ground you currently stand on, only to dig it out later, and dig she did. Created a curse to use on His Majesty, a part of which was to kill every mage his portrait ever encountered. Hard as he tried, he couldn’t fight it. Do you want to know why, little mage?”

Naina knew the question was theoretical, and yet she nodded subconsciously.

“The stolen ingredient was a healer’s blood.”

There was pin-drop silence in the room. So much that Naina could hear herself as she choked on her saliva.

“Just like poison beats poison, blood curse beats the blood curse.” Ayaan finished his explanation and turned around to leave.

"Magee Jounal said there is no known healer mage in centuries. The ones that were believed to have existed were considered fiction, then where did the blood come from?” Naina was quick to ask.

Call it a wild hope, but she wanted to know if there ever existed someone like her. Maybe she could conclude something significant from their lives and create her to-do and not-to-do list.

Ayaan stopped in his tracks. His shoulder tensed slightly, finger clenched as he took a while to answer. “There was a healer mage back then.”

“Who?”

“The Royalty herself.” He turned around, his eyes shining with sheer respect at her mention, and a bit troubled a while later like he was mentally struggling with something. “Aruha became very crafty in the magic she stole. She took advantage of Magee’s trust and gained knowledge. She knew the gift of healing only happened to one in ten thousand mages, extinguishing all hopes of freedom for His Majesty.”

“Is he free now?” Mr. Kazmi held an oddly serious tone, his voice low and urgent.

Ayaan snorted, his brows shooting to his hairline, as he gave him a wry glance. This was the first time he paid attention to him during his visit. “Imagine all the plots you would come up with to defeat him.”

He walked closer to where Mr. Kazmi stood and whispered in contempt and disdain. “But hard as you may try, this time he will be invincible.”

“Because of her,” Samraat asked for the first time. His voice was devoid of all anger he usually felt toward him. Putting a straight face, his expression hinted nothing about his inner state.

Naina wanted to protest and deny any claim. She knew her powers were nothing compared to Shaurya Lomhani, especially after what she just witnessed and felt. He could wipe her out in seconds should he wish to. His portrait was enough to bring her closer to death. Although she survived, surprising him, Naina knew it was purely her luck and probably her lingering healing magic.

Ayaan walked causally, least bothered by their interrogation. He was not obliged to answer any of them.

“Ayaan,” Naina called.

He stopped in his tracks once more.

“Thank you for saving our lives.”

Turning around, his lips twitched into a small smile as he nodded, waving his hand in style before disappearing in front of them.

“Show off,” Naina muttered to herself.

Mr. Kazmi, who was standing against the wall now stood next to Naina and spoke in a low voice. “He didn’t answer any of us.”

“Can’t expect him to assist you, can you? Not after you tried to kill him.” She responded offhandedly.

“He likes you, Naina,” Tia murmured behind her. “I’ve never seen him smile at anyone. Even though he and I have been... well we - we dated for a while. He has always been reserved, a bit cold and gruff, and unwelcoming to most.”

Naina snorted at that thought. He threw curses at her every chance he got, tried to strangle her once, and promised to return the favor of her reckless magical move. If that was the common gesture among Immortals to show their affection to their beloved, then she was pretty sure Shaurya Lomhani must be in love with her considering he tried to kill her. His portrait. Not to mention the endless training, followed by both physical and mental pain he inflicted upon her while teaching her to control and conceal her magic.

She almost laughed at the absurdity of the thought.

“As far as I can tell the only one he truly likes and respects is Lomhani himself.”

Samraat frowned. “You better not like him back. I mean I can imagine being with him under the same roof and acting civilized, but not with you two cuddling up.”

He made a face, and Naina was too stunned to even respond, throwing them an incredible look for reacting to her impossible love life. “That’s gross, Sammy. I suggest you stop right now.”

“Sorry,” he smiled sheepishly.

“Oh no, do go on with your conversation. We have all the time in the world. I mean it’s not like we just had a life-threatening incident and nearly got killed.” Mr. Kazmi said in a casual tone.

His sarcasm did not escape his listeners.

“Where do you think Mrs. Patil went?” Tia asked.

Naina, out of complete curiosity over something she read a while back about the formation of Brickstone Mansion, something Shaurya insisted on reading, walked toward the main entrance and pulled the door open. If the theory was correct, magic must have spun the basic matter of existence into a spiral.

She stopped breathing at the view in front of her, speechless.

The other occupants followed closely.

“Where are we?”

They took in the vast land in front of them followed by many small cliffs, and raging thunder over their heads. It was weirdly scenic.

Mr. Kazmi took in a sharp breath, unable to believe his eyes.

“The Median.”