(Book 5) Hayden Mackay and The Pride of Haima-Endira

1. The Plight of Matsyasvi

Part 1: The Declaration

Chapter 1: The Plight of Matsyasvi

He believed it would never happen again.

King Harsh mourned the deaths lying at the base of the waterfall. The prevailing wail against the sound of the blood-filled water racked his nerves. Bearing a heavy chest and hands clenched, he took a step forward. The burnt grass beneath his feet crunched. Tiny sparks of fire flew high above towards the red-rimmed moon. A loud cry for help made him blink out of his speechless stupor and mustered the courage to stare at this downright macabre turn of events.

He was away from Dakshinpur for a week and the attacker couldn't have found a better opportunity to destroy this perfectly functioning facility living under his care.

But why the agitation though? Hadn't he been warned before about this madness to come? No matter how much he stood there so deep in denial, King Harsh fathomed if it was the explosion of raw anger and hatred built towards him in the Panchayat. His urge to sanction official rights to the Clan of Matsyasvi had to become a serious point of contention for years. Why did it have to be so difficult? All he wanted was to provide equal rights to the entire worthy populace of the country, irrespective of their being. Such a simple measure was needed to be taken to survive the only hurdle, that was disrupting their peace and harmony.

A careful thought process had brought him down to this conclusion, to hide the clan under his continuous supervision and seek help from the Kings across the country to make this pursuit a success. It was the only suitable preventive measure against the thousand-year-old ridiculous vendetta that seemed on the verge of a catastrophe.

The current tragedy proved how wrong he had been.

The village was turned into a graveyard with unburied dead. The hundreds of huts laid in ruins, reduced to ashes and charcoal. Flames burning at the rooftops as a bonfire. The wisps of black smoke filling up in King's lungs. He tasted the vomit in his mouth looking at the lifeless bodies of the merpeople being dragged over to the shore by the currents of the pond. The severely bruised survivors were crying their hearts out.. they didn't want to live another day. They had enough.

The situation left the few surviving Matsysvi shocked and confused. He noticed the unhurt children, running back and forth to find their elders. The knights, busily involved in the rescue mission, were assisting to reunite the scattered families. However, the one who grabbed King's attention was lying unmoved, staring blankly, head placed over his dead mother's torso. Harsh warily averted his eyes, when his friend sat on his knees, caressing the boy's hair.

Doctor Krishant Veer, the young noble and the last of the ancient Lady Chandrika El Sayed's lineage, sat there brooding on fate's inexplicable blow. King Harsh's heart filled with an abundance of guilt, noticing a tear glistening down his friend's cheek. He had forced Doctor to bear the hatred of this clan for using a woman and her womanhood in the name of the future benefit of the country. Only if it weren't for his idea for making him adopt the unborn child of the mother...

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden low grunt. "This is legit Shashi."

The voice struck Harsh. "We are not going through this again, Aghasthya."

King Aghasthya snapped a look at Harsh and the two best friends stared daggers at each other. Their friendship once hailed as unbreakable, had lately turned notoriously fickle-strong in times of crisis and distant in the argument involving Shashi Thribhuvan.

"Your blind belief in your brother is the reason for these commotions!" King Aghasthya yelled.

"I've already made you aware of this." King Harsh argued in his sullen tone. "You know that the clan is magically protected. No humans, unless permitted, can pass through protective supplements. Shashi cannot enter this premise."