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

19. Know Your Opponent

Letter of Consent to Travel

I, Imtiyaz Jafar, The High King of Paramarashtra, authorize the third generation Formation Samagraha [Hayden Mackay, Pruthvi Krishna, Leena Savant, Celina Hanslay and Tyrell Kissler] to cross the Strait of Uttara. They are allowed to travel domestically within Uttarameer alongside the Diamond user, as well as the Matsyasvi, Ashwant Veer. Absolutely no charges with obstruction shall be filed against the aforementioned travelers until further notice.

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The knight in a thick fur coat with a hood, took a long time to read those four sentences written in the consent letter. He gazed up at us with suspicious eyes behind the glass sitting crookedly on his nose. He seemed to be disappointed to find no fault and hesitated to return the letter to Ashwant.

"Proof?" He asked, through his chattering teeth.

Ashwant gestured to me with a nod. Fighting against the freezing temperature, I tucked my hand in and searched for the pocket hidden somewhere inside my gazillion pound jacket. Only when Ashwant and I showed our respective stones he returned the letter and allowed us to pass through.

The knights of Madhyakshetra were being too transparent to come across as wise and sincere. Remembering the fate of one of their kings, suddenly made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. It felt too silly watching them follow the rules. There were a couple of more knights working as guards at the main legal entrance of the province, seated down around a small bonfire at this time of the night and poking the logs with tongs. A few feet away stood a large quinzee shaped hut from where a strong overwhelming smell of burnt charcoal was wafting out. Occasional whinnies and neighs from the horses were audible as well.

One of the knights walked aside and with a great effort, he released the rope to raise the barricade. The signage 'PUBLIC WARNING. DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT AUTHORIZATION' were written in big bold colorful letters as if a spray painting graffiti.

The damned weather of Uttarameer lived up to my well-wisher's forewarning. The skin-cutting gust of wind, the fluffy snowflakes stiffening my lashes and hair, it was indeed a several time worse than the weather of Dakshinpur. I hissed passing through the barricade alongside Ashwant, fighting the aggressive wind blowing across my face.

"I think we need help," Ashwant stuttered between his words, vapors releasing from his mouth as he spoke.

A great deal of concentration throbbed my temples. Her appearance in my mind was the only saving grace. The searing thick string of fire emerged out of my palms challenging the hostile wind. I slowly rotated my arms over our heads forming a flame coil down around our shivering bodies. The minimal warmth instantly made us let out a sigh of relief.

The relief, however, was only for a brief second.

A swirling wind, as loud as the flying jet, blustered over us. The knights, at once, ran inside their hut, as if they knew that the temperature was going get hazardous. Ashwant and I shared a tentative glance at each other's faces that were turning pale and dry. He bent down on his knee and taking a long breath, he mustered the energy to command his Diamond, his voice as loud as the good old days, inexperienced Pruthvi.

"Plain Elevator Formation!"

The gentle shake of the ground made me stand alert. The powdery snow beneath our feet sprinkled up. A prism-shaped wall shot up housing us from all sides, thankfully blocking the intensity of the wind.

Flames crackled and burned brighter. "Can you take the map out?"

I increased the fire intensity, that helped him easily rummage through the contents in his large duffle bag. For the time being, I mentally recollected the information regarding the geographical features of the country. Thanks to Ira Zutshi for explaining the important aspect of the province at the eleventh hour.