Page 21 of The Prince Without Sorrow
Chapter Twenty
Shakti
S HAKTI LAY ON HER BED, FIGHTING TO SLEEP.
She was trying in vain to enter The Collective, something she had been unsuccessful at since the Great Spirit’s intervention. All she needed was to enter a state of profound concentration, meditation, or deep sleep. The latter evaded her often these days, as she found much of her resting period to be lucid. Worse still, simply willing herself to keep her mind clear did not seem to work and only served to make her feel more agitated.
‘Don’t think too hard,’ she whispered to herself. ‘Concentrate on the breath.’
Squeezing her eyes shut once more, Shakti let her head sink into the pillow and mind relax. She thought about nothing and everything. Nothing. Her village. Jaya. Nothing. Death. Emperor Adil.
Concentrating hard, she imagined the same tug she had felt in the forest, that thread made from blue and white sparks. When her breathing felt slow enough to warrant lifelessness, there was that same tug she’d felt that day with the Great Spirit. Finally. Then, she followed it until the darkness turned into a blinding light and, behind her eyelids, her vision turned an odd mixture of brown, red, and white.
When her eyes opened, she was in the throne room. Emperor Adil sat on the Obsidian Throne. His gaze was equal parts curious and dismissive as he gave her a callous smile.
‘Adil,’ she greeted him without the formal bow. Excitement radiated through her – she had arrived .
‘She still knows not how to address the emperor.’ Adil’s features contorted into one of vexation. ‘You’re a stain that cannot be removed.’
Shakti clenched her teeth. ‘It gives me no pleasure to see you either, you vainglorious bastard,’ she replied. ‘Fortunately, I am not here to speak to you.’
His response was akin to that of a violent child being asked to keep their emotions in check. Emperor Adil balked. The dark shadow of his beard failed to cover his astonishment. ‘Why are you here then, witch?’
‘Since you so graciously informed me of your complete and utter lack of knowledge, I have found someone who can help me,’ she replied with a sneer. ‘I hope it means that I can get rid of you.’
‘Who on this earth could help you?’
‘The other man,’ she said.
With slow, careful movements, Adil stood from the throne. Looking up at him, Shakti felt like an ant. He exuded a horrific enchantment the way a cobra mesmerized its prey. She could see why the common people had been drawn to him and his lies.
‘What other man?’ he asked.
‘You told me that this was a collective,’ Shakti replied, ‘which meant that the consciousnesses of the other monarchs were present. One informed me to ask Ashoka. I thought he meant your son, but he denied any such knowledge. That left the first Maurya – the first Ashoka.’
‘You spoke to my son?’ the emperor thundered. ‘How?’
Pettiness overrode the need to aggrandize herself, so she refused to answer him. After all, Adil had refused to help her. Why should she explain her current predicament?
‘How?’ he asked again. This time, it sounded like a command.
‘How did you convince yourself to burn his ear?’ she retorted instead.
‘What convincing?’ Adil replied. Not a hint of remorse graced his features. ‘Ashoka needed to be taught a lesson. No good would come from him reading texts that spew lies.’
Lies . As if her existence was one.
She scowled. ‘Why do you hate us? What have the mayakari ever done to you?’
As he so often did, the emperor snubbed her question. He turned his head away, refusing to look at Shakti like she was some sort of cockroach he would ask someone to dispose of. Deep down in her gut, Shakti knew he had an answer. Hatred was not born, it was made.
But for now, it did not matter. She was here to solve her own problems, not let herself become bogged down by arguing. She wanted the emperor Ashoka.
She took two steps towards Adil. ‘Bring me Ashoka Maurya,’ she called out to the void, ‘the first of his name, the progenitor of The Collective.’
As she uttered the final word, the atmosphere in the room changed. Shakti only saw Emperor Adil’s eyes widen in panic before he vanished from the Obsidian Throne completely.
Confused, she swivelled around, trying to see if the emperor had reappeared in a different area but he had not. It was then that the ground began to tremble beneath her feet and the throne room descended into colourful chaos. Garish reds, sombre blues, and poisonous greens blinded her enough to squeeze her eyes shut. When she felt the tremors dissipate and the faint pangs of colour vanish behind her lids, Shakti reopened them only to find the mysterious man she had seen before sitting atop the Obsidian Throne.
His beauty astounded her. The shining black hair, the gleaming brown skin, the bright eyes. This man radiated a power that was unlike Adil’s. His felt ancient. Potent, like that of a Great Spirit.
Shakti tilted her head. ‘You again,’ she remarked.
‘Hello, Shakti,’ he said. His voice was calming. Peaceful. It was like a cool breeze on an arid day; like the gentle caress of Jaya’s hands running through her hair as she oiled it.
‘You know my name,’ she replied stupidly.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I would be remiss if I didn’t. You are the newest user of The Collective, and I believe that you now know mine.’
The answer came to her, slow like the sunrise. ‘Emperor Ashoka.’
Shakti didn’t know what she had expected. Some part of her had expected a lookalike of Prince Ashoka, but this one looked nothing like him. For starters, he was far more handsome, more matured and grown into a set of rugged features. Unlike the prince, there was no trace of softness to be found.
Emperor Ashoka nodded. ‘The first,’ he said. ‘The original. I could not speak with you for long because the consciousness was not fully melded to you. The moment you summon me and accept The Collective is the moment your ability manifests.’
He spoke in short, swift sentences that were laced with ambiguity. For a moment, Shakti lost her eagerness to rid herself of the consciousness. For a moment, she indulged herself in asking a question that not even a Great Spirit could answer.
‘Your lineage holds a power that not even mayakari can wield,’ she said. ‘How?’
Emperor Ashoka smiled. ‘How else, but with the aid of a Great Spirit? How else would it be possible?’ he replied. He didn’t expand on it, which Shakti took as a clear sign that he wasn’t interested in explaining his story, which was infuriating. Men could not wield their power, and yet, here was an emperor telling her the opposite.
‘My story is not what you are here for, Shakti,’ he said. ‘Tell me – what do you want?’
‘How do I get rid of this power?’ she asked, gesturing to her head helplessly. ‘I don’t want Emperor Adil in my head. I want a rebirth.’
The look he gave her was sympathetic. Guarded. ‘I understand your desire to rid yourself of The Collective,’ the emperor said, ‘especially when Adil represents all that was taken away from you. You will not be happy to hear it, Shakti, but there is only one way to rid yourself of this curse.’
‘Let me have a guess,’ she said. ‘Must I die?’
His face turned grave. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You are now part of The Collective. If you wish to transfer it to another, you too must die. Do you want that?’
A small part of her wanted to scream yes . Maybe then, she would finally be free of this forsaken world and its hateful ways. Maybe then, she wouldn’t have to suffer through life alone. Except—
‘I cannot be reborn if this power is transferred,’ she said. Misery pounded her chest like a frightful wind against a ramshackle home. She didn’t want to know how the process was done. ‘I will never know peace. So then, what happens if I die as is, without giving this power to anyone? There will be no host, so will I be free?’
His answer was disappointing. ‘I do not know,’ the emperor admitted. ‘Do you wish to find out?’
Do you want to die? Do you want to swallow poison, tie a noose around your neck?
No. The answer came without hesitation. Death was the natural way of life, but it was not what she wanted. Attachment was the root of all suffering, and her attachment to living would bring her misery, no doubt. But dying solved nothing. ‘I do not wish to die. Not yet,’ she said. To offset her ever-dampening mood, Shakti fed her curiosity instead. ‘What does this ability allow me to do?’ she asked.
Emperor Ashoka’s eyes gleamed like he was finally satisfied with her line of questioning. ‘Not only can you speak to one dead monarch, but you can also call upon any of the past rulers of the Ran Empire who succeeded me,’ he explained. ‘You may call out their name, seek their advice, and view their memories. Access to their minds is limitless. There is no corner you cannot touch – all past monarchs knew this before they bound themselves to The Collective.
‘And you can do what witches cannot, Shakti. You can invade others’ dreams, tamper with them, and assume any form you’d like in them given that the past rulers have them in their own memory. You can influence the actions of others in the real world. That is the true power of The Collective.’
Shakti’s eyes widened. ‘All Mauryas who held The Collective could invade dreams?’
Emperor Ashoka shook his head. ‘No. Only those who identify as female can access this power, similar to how witches are only female,’ he said. ‘Except for myself – I am the genesis, after all. You have an added advantage in that you are also a mayakari, Shakti. This power could be limitless for you.’
Dream invasion . No wonder the Great Spirit had called it ancient magic – this was unheard of. If wielded with cruel intention, it would breed negative karma. It would be a more intimate form of torture than curses. To invade a dream was to see someone’s darkest desires and fears, to manipulate them.
I’ve cursed myself , she thought. According to the emperor, there was no feasible way out of this predicament, no easy way to remove this problem from her head.
Unless she decided to stop thinking of it as a problem.
She thought back to her escapade in the Golden City. Of how Prince Ashoka had helped her and Priya flee, and the relief in his eyes when she later returned to the palace confirming the mayakari’s safe getaway. One blistering thought had wormed itself into her mind in the days since, unable to be silenced.
He would have made a good emperor .
Rule under Prince Ashoka Maurya would not be painful. The mayakari wouldn’t have to fear for their lives and hide away. They wouldn’t have to burn. Perhaps they could return to the old days when they were respected. When they were allowed to continue scholarly pursuits so that nature spirits and humans could live in harmony.
He will be a good emperor .
Here she was, with a power seemingly unknown to the mayakari, the common people, and the royals. Here was a power that not even a Great Spirit could place the origin of. Adil was a man; he could not have been privy to the full benefit of this power, and she, a mayakari at that, was now able to wield it.
The Collective would only be what she needed it to be. Treating it like a hindrance was unwise; she needed to wield it as a weapon. If she could somehow use The Collective to place Prince Ashoka on the throne...
No , the righteous side of her mind retaliated quickly. Do not even think it .
A useless attempt to pacify and reconsider the moral implications. As usual, Shakti’s more avenging, unforgiving side won over.
If I could invade the dreams of Emperor Arush and Princess Aarya, influence their actions in the real world enough to make them appear inept and incompetent to lead , she surmised, it will pave the way for Prince Ashoka to be seen as the better option. He could sit on the Obsidian Throne.
‘I could drive someone to madness,’ she didn’t mean to say it aloud.
Emperor Ashoka tilted his head, assessing her as if she were some strange new weapon. ‘You could,’ he said. ‘You can.’
Tamper with dreams. Influence actions. A reckless emperor and a mad princess. Who would care to be led by incompetents when the capable Ashoka Maurya stood on the sidelines?
Yes. Yes. She knew there was no sense in watching a monarchy fall without a failsafe. It would only lead to a power vacuum, posing the risk of putting others who had learned to hate the mayakari in positions of power to continue practising some iteration of Adil’s laws. Crowning a royal sympathetic to the mayakari plight was the better gamble.
Even better, this power could be manifested away from its victim. She could just as easily conduct these dream invasions elsewhere.
Like Taksila , she thought. I can convince the prince to take me with him. It’s safer than staying in the palace.
But you will be tethered to this world if you venture down this path , Jaya’s voice arrived like a gentle breeze. You will do what you should not by halting samsara. Is vengeance worth it?
Her aunt’s corpse flashed in her mind’s eye. To undertake a burden for the sake of others – was that not selflessness? Good karma? And, after all, was selflessness not what her aunt had preached?
This is for the greater good , she reminded herself. If there was even a small chance that she could use this power to alter the lives of the mayakari, she needed to take it. But this didn’t simply have to be played as a malevolent, twisted form of altruism. Retribution still fuelled her, and she wanted to witness Adil’s older children tear themselves apart, driven to madness by dreams. She could kill two birds with one stone.
This is exploitation, little bird .
This is justice , she told Jaya’s voice. For you. For me.
‘Ah.’ Emperor Ashoka’s calming voice drew Shakti from her ruminations. ‘Have I changed your mind?’
She would use The Collective for her benefit. She would help place Prince Ashoka on the Obsidian Throne for the greater good of her people.
Shakti smiled.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You have convinced me, Emperor Ashoka.’