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Authors: Krishnarjun Bhattacharya

Tantrics Of Old (56 page)

BOOK: Tantrics Of Old
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Adri hid his surprise.

‘Don’t be surprised, please—though I love to hear those little gasps that prove my superior intellect.’ It paused. ‘Your web tells me of things you have done and things you might end up doing. And I’m the one surprised when I see where you are about to go and what you are about to get into. You have courage, for a human. And you have repentance for your actions. I will help you.’

‘Why will you help me?’ Adri asked immediately.

‘Don’t be an idiot, human. Just accept the help,’ Pestilence said.

‘No,’ Adri said. ‘No, if I am to accept your help I have to know what your motives are.’

‘Perhaps it is wise to not trust anyone,’ Pestilence said, sighing. ‘Human, my brother Death once made a promise to me, a promise he did not keep and a promise I do not like to talk about and will not until it is kept. I do not want the Cataclysm as much as I want my brother to pay for his mistake. And you—your web is interesting. You are in dire need of help, and since I’m not the one after your soul, I don’t see why not.’

‘I will not ask any more. Thank you,’ Adri said.

‘Oh no, this is where you begin asking. Ask away!’ Pestilence said.

‘How can I kill Death?’ Adri asked.

‘The only thing that can help you now,’ Pestilence said, ‘is a certain kind of weapon. It is
very
rare, forged in
Nedrashish
, the forge of Dominion. A certain kind of blade of incredible magical prowess, called an
ebb blade
.’

‘An ebb blade.’ Adri repeated softly.

‘My eldest brother’s weapon is a scythe called
Quietus
,’ the Horseman spoke. ‘It has two blades, one beneath the other. The blade above is a
malgarsh blade
. It is a killing weapon, one that’s only purpose is to slay the foe efficiently and effortlessly. The blade below is an ebb blade. This blade is what Death uses to collect the souls it has to; the blade has the unique characteristic of extracting the soul from within when plunged, destroying the material body in the process. The soul is transferred into a soul gem at the base of the scythe, and can be removed, stored, or as in this case, used in a ritual to break a seal. Do you understand, human?’

‘Where can I get an ebb blade?’ Adri asked.

‘Unfortunately, like I said—ebb blades are extremely rare and not found lying around. Apart from Quietus, there is just one more ebb blade to be found in Old Kolkata. It is called the
Araakh.’

‘And where can I find that?’ Adri asked, mentally gearing up for another journey.

‘Oh, right here,’ Pestilence said. ‘Ever since the Spider King died, I have been guarding the weapon for him, waiting for him to rise again and claim his beloved.’

Adri stared. Pestilence grinned, fangs flashing.

‘Um, so are you going to give it to me?’ Adri asked.

‘If you ask for it—yes, I suppose.’

‘Uh, can I have the Araakh, then?’

‘You didn’t say the magic word,’ Pestilence said, wagging a finger.

‘Can I have the Araakh, please?’ Adri asked.

‘I didn’t mean
please
. I meant the
real
magic word, one that will summon the Araakh to the caller.’

‘But how can I know that?’

‘True, you can’t. You’re not a descendant of the Spider King after all.’

‘So are you going to tell me the word?’

‘If I say it out loud it’s going to be summoned by
my
side, not yours.’

‘Can’t you just hand it over to me?’ Adri asked desperately.

‘I don’t know. Would that work?’

‘Why not? It’s a sword after all, right?’

‘No. It’s a dagger.’

‘Just try summoning it then, why don’t you?’

‘Hmm. All right, here goes.
Ilk Li Seyth Araakh
!’ the Horseman cried.

A blinding flash of light erupted in mid-air, and a dagger enclosed in a sheath appeared beside the seated Pestilence, hovering in mid-air, waiting to be taken.

‘Is this the place?’ Gray shouted. A roar of thunder almost drowned his voice out.

‘That’s what it sounded like,’ Adri shouted back over the howling wind. ‘Fits the description!’

‘The weather’s almost cyclonic!’ Maya screamed.

‘The church! We can take shelter in there!’ Gray shouted.

‘That might just be the church he mentioned,’ Adri shouted again. ‘What colour is the roof?’

He could not see the colour himself, nor could anyone else for that matter—not in this gale. Dust, darkness, and dry leaves were in the air; a storm was brewing, and fast. They hurried towards the church as the rain started. It came down hard and fast, like a sudden hail of arrows, taking them by surprise. As they came closer to the church, Adri peered up at the roof. A flash of lightning. A figure on the roof. Huge wings outstretched.

‘This is the place!’ Adri shouted as they pelted towards the large twin doors. Aurcoe flew down in front of the doors as they ran. A massive awning above kept them from getting drenched; it was night already, and the storm seemed like it was about to get worse.

‘I’ve done my part well beyond the call of duty, Sen,’ Aurcoe spoke. Adri saw that his demeanour had changed slightly; evidently, he was done with the necessary steps he had to take to secure his coming back and registering as an Angel. His last responsibility remained, and he was getting it over with right now.

‘Yes. Tell me,’ Adri said.

‘I’m not the one who should do this,’ the Angel said. ‘Inside. Your answers are waiting.’

Adri paused for a second, and then nodded. Aurcoe nodded back and then pushed open the church doors with both arms in a display of strength. They entered, Aurcoe shutting the entrance behind them. The doors groaned above the wind and the rain as they finally rested shut. No one said anything. The church was quieter now, the sounds of the storm partially muffled. Adri looked around. The church had recently been abandoned, yet not everything was gone. Some benches remained, as did the statue of the bringer of light, the saviour. A lot of objects were stacked where the aisles were, things that were packed to be taken away and hadn’t been. The path leading up to the Saviour was wide and empty; at the end of the path, on a marble slab beneath the statue, sat a man.

Adri’s eyes were wide. He slowly started walking towards the man. The man was well-built, in his fifties, with sharp features and powerful, perceptive eyes through which he now watched Adri. His hair was beginning to grey at places, and other than that, he did not have many signs of age. He wore a dark green suit, clean and well-pressed. He stood as Adri approached.

‘Adri!’ he greeted.

‘Father,’ Adri said. ‘So it is you.’

Victor Sen adjusted his hair, a grim smile on his face. ‘Of course it’s me, Adri,’ Victor said. ‘It’s been me all along, and I’m surprised you did not figure it out before this, until I decided to call you here.’

‘Aurcoe is working for you,’ Adri said.

The others were still near the door, watching and listening in confusion, in awe.

‘He never worked for you, my boy,’ Victor said. ‘And yet again, I’m surprised you depended
this
much on the Fallen. Your old man had to do everything for you!’

‘Like what?’

‘Like give you the
Ai’n Duisht
, the confounded Pendant of the Crescent Moon! How else do you think a Fallen would get its hands on something that powerful?’

Adri looked at his father for a moment, then ripped the pendant from his neck, letting it drop. ‘I don’t need this,’ he said, breathing heavily.


Now
. Or
any longer
, maybe. You sure needed it all this while, and I was there to get it to you when you did.’

‘I did not need your help,’ Adri snarled.

‘What would you have done without your father, Adri?’ Victor asked, laughing. ‘What? I taught you everything you know; I had you put through the exams in MYTH when you couldn’t manage on your own. I brought you up. I taught you how to control spirits and Demons. I
built
you! Where would you have been without me?’

‘Not here, that’s for sure,’ Adri said grimly.

‘This isn’t too bad a place to be,’ Victor said. ‘Even though it
is
the end of the road, you’ve walked long and walked well.’

‘I might still end up surprising you, Father,’ Adri said. His hand had a cigarette, which he lit.

‘It’s not just the Tantric smoking to avoid spirits, is it?’ Victor said, closing his eyes briefly. ‘No, it’s a show of defiance, whenever you smoke. It comes from a deep-rooted feeling of being uncomfortable. Afraid.’

‘Don’t
you
go about analysing me!’ Adri said with force.

‘Afraid again, Adri?’ Victor smirked. ‘Afraid as the day you were born, afraid to come into my arms after such an important event, afraid to face your only living parent.’

‘You were the one who was afraid,’ Adri said. ‘Afraid to tell me about Mother. You were
afraid
, and there is no other explanation, Father.’

‘I was not afraid, Adri,’ Victor said. ‘Telling you then would simply break the curse, and we couldn’t have had that, could we?’

‘What?’ Adri exclaimed, in spite of himself. ‘What curse?’


Now
you may know, Adri. Now that you are twenty-three and about to die. But then again, death is but another state.’

‘What curse?’ Adri cried.

Victor’s eyes narrowed and he put his hands in his pockets. ‘A blood curse, one of the oldest. A sacred and protected ritual, one that was long banned by the government and locked away in one of MYTH’s innumerable secret vaults. Guarded extremely well, actually. But when could MYTH ever stop me from doing what I wanted? All they could ever do was welcome me back with apologies of their own. Heh.’

‘The curse, Father,’ Adri said quietly, his eyes burning. ‘Tell me how my mother died.’

‘The
Oka Draugr
, the sealing of the breath, it would be called in the Old Tongue. But then I should tell you why, Adri, it would not be good for you to not know. You see, Adri, after you live as long as I have, and after you have done the things you have wanted to, there comes a time when a man must ask himself—
what more
?’

Adri stared at his father. He was sweating, feeling unwell.

‘I have done it all, Adri. I have breathed life out of a dying demigod. I have hunted Demons across the star light highways of the Abyss. I have retrieved the secrets I have wanted to know from the Old City. I have changed parts of my body with old forgotten spells, incantations. I have sheltered a hundred souls in my body to know what the feeling of sharing is like, all without losing control. I have ripped the wings off Angels and given lifeblood to Fallen. I have fought a terrible battle with an Alabagus, far above the Old City and far below the heavens, a battle that lasted an entire day. I have raided tombs and crypts of the greatest Necromancers and Sorcerers of old, discovered their secrets, taken their weapons. I have earned the title of the most powerful Tantric in the world. And I have done it all for the sake of knowing.’ Victor paused, and took a deep breath.

‘This is but one life,’ he said. ‘I wanted to
know
. That can never be considered a crime, only a mistake by some. Because if you do choose a path, you cannot take responsibility for anything or anyone—everyone you know is there to only help you get to the greater truth, to help answer the questions you have always been asking.’

Victor walked around, scratching his nape. ‘I’m afraid that’s how I’ve always been, Adri. Love for me has always been a love for finding out, a love for knowing. I am the only person who worked for the government, then for the resistance—the Defenders of Old Kolkata—and then MYTH again, only this time, I was their most celebrated Tantric. It is all because I wanted to do it. I wanted to know if I
can
do it. My ideals can change immediately, Adri, if it suits what I have wanted to find out. Are you beginning to understand, even slightly?’

‘You think that could be an excuse?’ Adri asked. ‘Searching for more? Is that why I was never raised as a son? Is that why you were afraid of responsibility? Because you did not
care
enough?’

‘Everyone is raising children and settling down, Adri,’ Victor said, gently shaking his head. ‘I’m afraid there were very few people who I could connect to, and who could connect to me. You were never one of them.’

‘What did you do with my mother?’ Adri hissed.

‘I loved her. I have never understood love, Adri—but if I was to say I have been in love, it was with your mother, my wife. She had an incredible power to make it all okay, son—a gift, not a magical capability, and after her death there has not been a single day when I don’t miss her. But you have to understand that there was no other way—the curse demands that the owner perform it on his most treasured possession, something he has protected the most. No one else had enough power in the Old City to actually perform the curse.’

‘Why? Why did you have to do it at all? You could have stopped anytime! You could have let it rest! But then it was knowledge, wasn’t it? Knowing the effects of the curse and seeing your wife twist and die, like another one of your little experiments!’

BOOK: Tantrics Of Old
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