Trixy and The Crescent Of Rana

CHAPTER 35 : CHARRED HANDS

The dusk set on and the sky filled the little lawn behind the house in a deep orange hue. The members of Squad 5 were scattered on the long green grass, looking at the clouds all around. They had talked very little since the fight. A grave, yet serene, silence surrounded the place. No one could have guessed it had been a bloody battle field only a few minutes ago.

Linga's body had been disposed of already. Ezhil looked through the gaping gap in the wall into the house. Everything was disarrayed into a super mess inside. There were water pools stagnated here and there, the furniture was in bits and pieces, the walls needing no elaboration and Dan's sword was lying abandoned dully in one of the shallow pools. It looked like it would break next time someone steps on it.

Dan would not part with the Val now and Aravind was having a hard time seizing it from him and convince him they will have to, eventually, yield its rights to higher authorities. Quiroshi had gained a broken leg now and Vikasa was bandaging him with some cloth she had in her possession. Dev and Shri were clustered near Vikasa discussing something animatedly. She watched them laugh mirthfully sometimes, with some degree of jealousy.

Fraudin was standing behind, near the fence all alone, reflecting back in profound solemnity. No one had blamed him or anything. But he was well aware of his mistakes. His simple errors had complicated the fight too much. If he had had the necessary control over his abilities and had held back at the right moments, Ezhil's life would not have been put at risk and Linga might be still alive. They might have got a few more answers. 

A few things about Linga were still shrouded in mystery. The more they considered the situation, the more tangled his disposition seemed to be.

"I cannot believe he would murder so many in cold blood just to prove so vague a point," said Ezhil to Maahir, sitting beside her, staring into the oblivion.

"Anger makes men do stupid things. Don't seek reasons in everything," he replied.

"His anger makes some sense to me, but it's extent not. I cannot explain this but I could not feel his sadness at all when he fought us. It was like anger was all the emotion he could feel at the moment. He had forgotten everything else. Do you think we are missing something?"

They were indeed missing something. While they fought Linga inside, the Chief was making rounds in the neighbourhood and conducting enquiries on his own. One odd piece of information had turned up which he hadn't disclosed to anyone.

The grocery boy who had been serving Linga for more than seven years had observed one, exactly one, visitor to Linga's since the death of his wife. It was around January, he reckons. He did not see the face of this visitor or anything of him for that matter. But he got stuck in his mind because he was too eerie, exuding constant chilly aura. He also chanced to see his frighteningly charred hand as he opened the gate to leave the house.

The Chief also called Linga's son and informed of his father's demise and conditions. They moreover wanted to affirm he had not been in Theligai for the last five years. The task fell into Ezhil's hands initially but she could not get herself to speak to him. She had never had a father and he, whoever he had been, had one whom he had relinquished. She was too confused to do anything objectively. The ending had left an abstruse melancholy in her. The final talk with Linga had made it impossible for her to relish any victory over villainy.

Chief, after finishing all the formalities regarding the body and writing the Scene Report returned to join the party in the lawn through the hole Ezhil had been staring at.

"So," he said, in a bold voice, recommending the attention of everyone in the lawn, "how was the fight?"

Normally, Dan would have immediately ventured to remark something or the other but today he, feeling guilty of not performing as he felt he ought to, was guarding silence solemnly. It was Vikasa who spoke.

"To be honest, we were lucky, Chief," she said, "I sincerely believe Aravind should have accompanied us."

Chief laughed. "Ah, glad to hear that. That's the kind of fight I wanted you to have. But don't be too hard on yourselves. You guys fared much better than I had hoped. All your limbs are intact. No one is holding their eyeball in their palms. Apart from Dan, no one is even so much naked. Kudos! I should say. For now, get ready to move. Save the celebration for later. We'll return to office and then disperse."

Nobody was in mood for any celebration though. Everyone was feeling weary, either in body or mind, and mostly were in want of nothing more than a nice nap. Chief viewed them with rare gratification and ridiculous snugness though. He chuckled at and condemned himself for feeling so much. They were just juveniles, he reminded himself. They have just started their journey. The seeds have just been sown. The dice have just been cast.

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His dark violet robes fluttered smoothly along with the cold wind that drifted past him. He adjusted his crow mask and sat on a nearby sandstone soberly. He was staring at a particular large stone in front of him. And soon, the stone turned as black as the night, and a new figure climbed out of the hole, grunting and swearing.

He was in plain clothes, no robes and possessed a serious countenance, very unlike the masked man. He was dragging a heavy snow-white sword that made a continuous screeching over the ground as he walked. His face sported a thin moustache and a trimmed goatee. He was broad and large, with heavy limbs. The masked man sitting on the stone stood up as he reached him.

"We got tips that you are not following the orders," said he, his voice echoing in the vacant grounds of the temple.

"Which orders?" the masked man asked calmly.

"Stop the acts, Krish. You are running amok. Why are you stirring unnecessary trouble in my jurisdiction?"

"I just wanted to check something. It would have been a great help to Thori if I had succeeded."

"Did Thori send for your help?"

"No, but he had never said I should not."

He scowled. "Know your place, Krish. Don't take too much advantage just because he favoured you once or twice."

"Someone is jealous," said Krish, his tone ringing with mockery.

"Don't you dare attempt your circus tricks on me. I am not some old geezer blabbering uselessly at the end of the world to let you do whatever you want with me."

"You should sometimes get out of that shit hole and see the outside world, Peshawar. The circus tricks are known as atrial abilities. That old geezer was an Ex White Ops soldier."

"And the sword he carried was an original Val, which is now sleeping in the hands of Trixy, thanks to your nonsense."

"What is one Val to Thori?"

"You don't get to decide what is what to Thori. Just an advice. Tread carefully from now. I don't think Thori would be very happy when your mischief reaches his ears. Don't fancy yourself too much. Or else someone else is going to scorch your remaining half too, or frost it for worse. Just hope it won't be me."

"Ay, someone is fancying himself too much indeed. Just an advice. Keep your head low where you ought to, or one day there won't be one to keep low."

Peshawar grimaced, turned and jumped back into the dark portal again, leaving Krish to stare into the chilly night, alone.