That cursed night at Nisarga had revealed the true reason behind his father's sacrifice and his own dark past. Each revelation now draws Agni into the sublime world of secrets. With Vrish and Guru Sidak by his side, fighting the daggers from the past and winning over the opponents of the present, somewhere deep down, he knows that his journey has just begun.
The other scarred prince walks the ashes of his reality. Haunted by the glimpses of truth the same night, Yani had but one choice – to survive. His unknowing steps, trapped in cruel games of ancient powers had led him to a truth, a truth which shall mould a good man in the clay of misfortune, hate and lust.
Such is the world of Gaya, and thus shall be the Rise of the Grey Prince – the one torn between the darkness of evil and a lone ray of hope.
Goodreads I Flipkart I Crossword
‘What is love? Is it the feel of the flesh or is it the warmth of the entwined beings? Is it the gain or the loss? Or is it the way of our existence, without meaning and thus without conflict? Can it be so? If so then how can you now love the one who has never even been here before, in front of your eyes, never felt and never fathomed even? Isn’t that the beauty of love? How can you understand the greatest gift of God? If you cannot THEN HOW CAN YOU DEFILE IT? HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN IT’S TASTE? ITS SOURNESS OR SWEETNESS? HOW COULD YOU HAVE CORRUPTED IT WITH YOU LUST FOR THE PLEASURE OF A TOUCH, A GROPE OR A GROAN? HOW COULD YOU HAVE TURNED IT INTO A FESTERING WOUND OF PLEASURE IN THE SWAMP OF SORROWS? SUCH IS YOUR SIN CHILDREN OF MEN, NEVER ASK ME AGAIN BUT REMEMBER THIS -
But I have not forgotten, I have not forsaken and I will be there, to make you remember. A tiger’s dharma is to feast on the flesh of the deer, the deer’s dharma is to feast on the grass and the grass grows from the carcass of all. The cycle of life continues with the cycle of dharma. I shall uphold mine as the will of the maker. I will make you remember again, though how crooked is my way, for it is my duty and I will be blind to others, for it is my dharma.’
“What are you thinking?” The swirling smoke dissipated as the sky thundered outside, the cigarette hanging innocuously from his lips.
“Nothing, an old habit of mine. I tend to get lost in my own thoughts.”
There was a tipsy smile on her face, her fingers clutching the glass of whiskey as tightly as they could. Her cheeks were flushed with red and the veins in her eye had gathered around the pits of darkness. The smashed mascara gave her an awry look.
He felt a soft nudge on his shoulder and shifted his dreary gaze at her.
“You are drunk.”
“It has only been four,” she giggled. “I want this night to be long and beautiful, don’t you?”
“A good man is content of dreaming what the wicked does.”
She started laughing and the cacophony echoed in the empty chambers of the house.
“Plato wouldn’t have ever intended to make someone laugh with one of his cruelest remarks.”
“I don’t know I just feel like laughing. I have never felt so happy before. N-E-V-E-R.” She bit off a part of one of those black charred pieces, the ones he had neatly arranged for her on a plate with a garnishing of sweet onions.
He looked up at the ceiling, his head resting on the cushioned backrest. A spider was slowly making a web, such patience; it brought a smile on his face. Then suddenly he felt the weight of her body on his lap and the warmth of her thighs. It made him wince as he wriggled his toes on the fur of his imported rug. There was a burning sensation.
“I never thanked you properly for that day. If it wasn’t for you then I don’t know what I would have done,” the words from her mouth reached his ears as his eyes looked up at her warily.
‘And yet you commit the very crime given the chance, the very crime that pushed you almost off that edge. Is it your principle or your heart, or is it twisted enough to be both? You have forsaken the normality of things, you are also an imbalance but I am obligated.’
He slowly put forth a wry smile on his face, the sickening taste of bile at the back of his throat made him twitch.
“I am a human being after all; you would have done the same for me.”
“You are different,” she said with an airy smile on her face. She closed her eyes and started to lean on him. He saw her luscious lips painted with red; he felt the coldness of her warm touch, the stillness of her beating heart and the stench of her minty breath. He jerked back, almost dropping her on the floor.
She opened her eyes, the perplexity clear in them even in the red.
“What happened?” she asked, asserted, almost demanded.
He was staring at her blankly, the answer unclear in the haze, difficult and repulsive. He drank deep from his then untouched glass of Chivas, his elixir.
He stood up slowly, their gaze fixed on each other. His face twisted into a warm smile, “Let us go downstairs, it is warmer there. I want this night to be perfect, don’t you?”
First Book in the Series:
Is one born with his destiny or does he forge it?
In the mystical land of Gaya, two prophecies bind the fate of men and empires alike. The Destroyer born from the royal seed on the Land of the Setting Sun shall bring the empires down, or so has been foretold.
In between the Destroyer and the world stand the Seven Guardians of Gaya, guarding the realm of man. A king, a father, defies the Seven and fate itself to save the last drop of his blood and prince Agni grows in the Land of the Rising Sun, exiled from his own people, unaware of his past.
Losing the woman he loved most to the shadows in the dark, Agni is thrown into a whirlpool of events that he neither knows, nor understands. His quest for vengeance brings him to the doorstep of a secret that will shatter the very foundation of beliefs of a world.
Can Agni avert his destiny? Can he uncover the truth about the Seven and the prophecies, now hidden behind a veil of ignorance?
The secrets of the dark are sometimes so terrible that they are better left unsaid.
The other scarred prince walks the ashes of his reality. Haunted by the glimpses of truth the same night, Yani had but one choice – to survive. His unknowing steps, trapped in cruel games of ancient powers had led him to a truth, a truth which shall mould a good man in the clay of misfortune, hate and lust.
Such is the world of Gaya, and thus shall be the Rise of the Grey Prince – the one torn between the darkness of evil and a lone ray of hope.
Goodreads I Flipkart I Crossword
SHADOW
‘What is love? Is it the feel of the flesh or is it the warmth of the entwined beings? Is it the gain or the loss? Or is it the way of our existence, without meaning and thus without conflict? Can it be so? If so then how can you now love the one who has never even been here before, in front of your eyes, never felt and never fathomed even? Isn’t that the beauty of love? How can you understand the greatest gift of God? If you cannot THEN HOW CAN YOU DEFILE IT? HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN IT’S TASTE? ITS SOURNESS OR SWEETNESS? HOW COULD YOU HAVE CORRUPTED IT WITH YOU LUST FOR THE PLEASURE OF A TOUCH, A GROPE OR A GROAN? HOW COULD YOU HAVE TURNED IT INTO A FESTERING WOUND OF PLEASURE IN THE SWAMP OF SORROWS? SUCH IS YOUR SIN CHILDREN OF MEN, NEVER ASK ME AGAIN BUT REMEMBER THIS -
But I have not forgotten, I have not forsaken and I will be there, to make you remember. A tiger’s dharma is to feast on the flesh of the deer, the deer’s dharma is to feast on the grass and the grass grows from the carcass of all. The cycle of life continues with the cycle of dharma. I shall uphold mine as the will of the maker. I will make you remember again, though how crooked is my way, for it is my duty and I will be blind to others, for it is my dharma.’
“What are you thinking?” The swirling smoke dissipated as the sky thundered outside, the cigarette hanging innocuously from his lips.
“Nothing, an old habit of mine. I tend to get lost in my own thoughts.”
There was a tipsy smile on her face, her fingers clutching the glass of whiskey as tightly as they could. Her cheeks were flushed with red and the veins in her eye had gathered around the pits of darkness. The smashed mascara gave her an awry look.
He felt a soft nudge on his shoulder and shifted his dreary gaze at her.
“You are drunk.”
“It has only been four,” she giggled. “I want this night to be long and beautiful, don’t you?”
“A good man is content of dreaming what the wicked does.”
She started laughing and the cacophony echoed in the empty chambers of the house.
“Plato wouldn’t have ever intended to make someone laugh with one of his cruelest remarks.”
“I don’t know I just feel like laughing. I have never felt so happy before. N-E-V-E-R.” She bit off a part of one of those black charred pieces, the ones he had neatly arranged for her on a plate with a garnishing of sweet onions.
He looked up at the ceiling, his head resting on the cushioned backrest. A spider was slowly making a web, such patience; it brought a smile on his face. Then suddenly he felt the weight of her body on his lap and the warmth of her thighs. It made him wince as he wriggled his toes on the fur of his imported rug. There was a burning sensation.
“I never thanked you properly for that day. If it wasn’t for you then I don’t know what I would have done,” the words from her mouth reached his ears as his eyes looked up at her warily.
‘And yet you commit the very crime given the chance, the very crime that pushed you almost off that edge. Is it your principle or your heart, or is it twisted enough to be both? You have forsaken the normality of things, you are also an imbalance but I am obligated.’
He slowly put forth a wry smile on his face, the sickening taste of bile at the back of his throat made him twitch.
“I am a human being after all; you would have done the same for me.”
“You are different,” she said with an airy smile on her face. She closed her eyes and started to lean on him. He saw her luscious lips painted with red; he felt the coldness of her warm touch, the stillness of her beating heart and the stench of her minty breath. He jerked back, almost dropping her on the floor.
She opened her eyes, the perplexity clear in them even in the red.
“What happened?” she asked, asserted, almost demanded.
He was staring at her blankly, the answer unclear in the haze, difficult and repulsive. He drank deep from his then untouched glass of Chivas, his elixir.
He stood up slowly, their gaze fixed on each other. His face twisted into a warm smile, “Let us go downstairs, it is warmer there. I want this night to be perfect, don’t you?”
In the mystical land of Gaya, two prophecies bind the fate of men and empires alike. The Destroyer born from the royal seed on the Land of the Setting Sun shall bring the empires down, or so has been foretold.
In between the Destroyer and the world stand the Seven Guardians of Gaya, guarding the realm of man. A king, a father, defies the Seven and fate itself to save the last drop of his blood and prince Agni grows in the Land of the Rising Sun, exiled from his own people, unaware of his past.
Losing the woman he loved most to the shadows in the dark, Agni is thrown into a whirlpool of events that he neither knows, nor understands. His quest for vengeance brings him to the doorstep of a secret that will shatter the very foundation of beliefs of a world.
Can Agni avert his destiny? Can he uncover the truth about the Seven and the prophecies, now hidden behind a veil of ignorance?
The secrets of the dark are sometimes so terrible that they are better left unsaid.
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