FF - Obscured Fate - Page 6

its so nice niki...👍🏼... keep going...👏...

I am...
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Res...will edit when the time is right...

I am...
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Res...will edit when the time is right...
Btw...I'm Aru ...

AN 4: A huge sorry for keeping all of you stranded. Actually I had some tests and was unable to update for a while. Thanks again to all the readers and special thanks to all the reviewers.

Warning : This chapter maybe a bit confusing. Please ask if you have any queries.

CHAPTER 9

His head throbbed rather painfully as he finally regained his consciousness. Slowly trying to ignore the thudding drums inside his head, he opened his eyes. His weathered, tired eyes took in the surroundings.

He was lying on a King - sized bed in a golden furnished suite. Long yellow curtains draped across the pillars and windows giving the rooms an austere shine.

Where was he?

Bit by bit his memories came back. He was Rana Udai Singh Suryavanshi and it were his private chambers.

Then why was it that he couldn't recognize them, he thought his mind whirring as it felt clear after a long time. It was as if he had been living under a fog for ages and finally it had lifted enabling him to perceive clearly.

His head felt heavy.

Grimacing he tried to control the sudden feeling of nausea that came over him as he tried to get up. Maybe he had a lot of drink last night.

Unsteady he stumbled as he stood up and tried to remember the night before. Blankness greeted him.

Alright, his mind consoled, what happened yesterday morning?

Again blankness was his answer.

Day before yesterday?

Nothing.

Last week?

Blank. No memories.

Panic erupted in him as he tried to understand the repercussions of his realization. His memories were gone. He had no idea what had happened.

Calm down, his mind ordered. What was the last thing he remembered?

Immediately a painful ache erupted in him as the memory of his wife's funeral flashed through his head.

What had he done after that?

He shook his head and his glance fell on the calendar hanging on the wall. His eyes took in the year. 2014.

His heart started hammering. Jaivantabai ji had died 7 years ago. Then where were his memories of the last seven years.

He felt dizzy as he slumped on his bed. Trembling fingers reached to the water jar on the bedside table when his eyes fell on the framed photograph. He reached out and picked it up.

Before he even tried to comprehend the new people or the kids he knew nothing about, his intuition told him that something was vitally wrong. For his favourite son was missing from the picture, which was quite improbable because he had always kept his son close to him. He had loved his eldest son so much that he hated to share him even with his eldest wife and Pratap's mother.

A sudden overhaul of emotions greeted him at his mention.

Anger, betrayal, pain, hatred.

The photograph fell from his hands the glass shattering into numerous pieces.

Desperately he tried to recall what had happened. Pratap, his favourite son. Where was he? Why wasn't he near him? Who were the women near his sons? Who was the little girl in Vikram's arms?

Questions and probabilities whirred in his mind.

He felt clogged, suffocated as he tried to somehow understand the matters when sounds of footsteps fell onto his ears accompanied by a flowery scent he loved.

No, had loved, his mind provided, for suddenly as if he was a completely different person, the scent started irritating him. It was unbearable and sharp. Nothing a women's perfume should feel like. It evoked seduction and manipulation. A sudden fear gripped him.

"Ranaji," a velvety voice purred as the curvy woman reached him. She took his hands in hers and gave him a wide smile. She handed him a glass of milk.

"Here Ranaji, your favourite Badam milk which you always have after you wake up."

No, a small corner in his mind protested, don't drink it.

The perfume felt intense, painful as if those fumes were choking his brain nerves.

"Pratap..."

The perfume intensified.

Her long manicured nails pierced his arm.

"We'll talk about everything Ranaji, but first you drink this."

"But..."

"Come now Ranaji," she cajoled, bringing the glass onto his lips "drink it."

Swallowing his protest he unwillingly gulped down the milk. It tasted bitter and sour like it had gone bad. He tried to spit it out but cold fingers clamped his mouth shut.

Those grey eyes he had once loved had gone icy as they stared at him. He felt the stirrings of dread as he stared at his wife. His mind was whirring desperately trying to piece the puzzle when suddenly the fog came back.

It slinked onto his mind wrapping all his thoughts and feelings in a stronghold and suddenly it vanished. Ceased to exist.

"Remember the truth Ranaji" a voice purred. " you love your family. Always wanted to keep it united."

Yes, of course he did. He loved his family and always wanted to keep them united. Earn the love of his masses, their respect and power for the Suryavanshi's.

"But remember Ranaji, all peace and happiness was destroyed."

He remembered it as clear as the day. His once united family in tatters and all because of that one person he had loved the most. His eldest son. His pride. His honour.

"Pratap" the voice resounded, "he destroyed everything."

Anger spurted through him at the name. That person was dead to him. He was a traitor to his own family. No, he was no more family. He was a Songara now, no more a Suryavanshi. He hated him.

The dizziness returned tenfold as a profound exhaustion sweeped onto him.

Everything tuned black as Morpheus claimed him into his domain.

Awesome. ...really .and me not confused. ..😆...me shatir dimag

Wow awesome update.

niki,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,its lovely...👏...as usual,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,i was waiting for ur update,,,,,,,,,,

CHAPTER 10

7^th July, 1995

Ranaji, what a pleasure to have you here! Welcome Ranaji, welcome' greeted the stout man bowing to the royal standing in front of him with his entourage.

Bhim Singh' Rana Udai Singh Suryavanshi's timbered tones rang through, I believe you have received my missive.'

Bhim Singh gave an eager nod. Yes Ranaji. I have received your missive and have got the whole of my collection of horses ready for you to choose from. I have got nearly 94 breeds of racing stallions both hybrid and thoroughbred, one of which I am sure will complement you.'

Rana Udai Singh gave him a piercing look.

'I am not looking for a horse for myself.'

Bhim Singh deflated. 'Then for whom Ranaji, may I ask if you do not mind.'

'My eldest son. Kunwar Pratap come here,' he beckoned to the entourage following him.

A young boy stepped out from the crowd of guards and officials all parting to clear a pathway for the young prince.

Tall and fit for someone in early thirteen he strode with a calm grace no teenager awkwardness in his gait.

'Dajiraj' he greeted and turned towards the rancher. 'Pranam Bhim Singh ji.'

'Pranam Baujiraj' the rancher replied frowning at the youth.

'What happened Bhim Singh?' Rana Udai Singh enquired.

'Ranaji' the rancher spoke hesitancy dripping from his every word, 'it is not my place to say this but perhaps Baujiraj is a tad too young to handle my stallions. Perhaps a mare or a pony?'

'Age is not only the determining factor of talent and skill, Bhim Singh ji' a polite cultured voice interrupted the downhill graph that the conversation was sure to take.

Kunwar Pratap stepped forth.

'I am in my teens and sure for someone as experienced as you, you find me awfully disadvantaged. But surely you can give me the benefit of doubt. I assure you that only if I am capable I'll buy a steed or else I won't.'

Bhim Singh nodded too confused to say anything.

'A tour perhaps, Bhim Singh ji' Kunwar Pratap prodded.

15 MINUTES LATER

'A Welsh thoroughbred. He has the win of two million dollar races under his belt in Alberto and...'

'No. Please show me the next one Bhim Singh ji.'

'Ah- of c-course. Ah next is the fastest horse the white Palomino from Texas, Mexican thoroughbred. It ...'

'Next one Bhim Singh ji.'

'Not this? No problem, next is the specially bred hybrid from France and...'

'No.'

'O-Ok. I see. Perhaps the Quarter bred...'

'No. Not him.'

'Irish thoroughbred?'

'No.'

AN HOUR LATER

Kunwar Pratap gave a sigh. None of the horses had what he wanted. They maybe famous race winning horses but they were all so dull and docile. The fire inside them tamed and domesticated. Their eyes simply looked at him waiting for instructions. For Lord Eklingji's sake, he wanted a friend not a servant.

'I am really sorry Ranaji, but none of my horses seem to make any impression on Baujiraj' the rancher spoke to Rana Udai Singh wringing his hands in extreme distress.

Ranaji turned to his son.

'Are you sure none of them are what you want?' he asked his bewilderment colouring his voice, still stunned that after looking at 94 different breeds of steeds his son was still to choose one.

Kunwar Pratap offered his father a mischievous smile.

'Dadaji says never to compromise Dajiraj. We should always try to get what we want not what will be satisfactory.'

Rana Udai Singh Suryavanshi sighed. Even with one leg in the land of living and other on his grave his dearest Dajiraj continues to trouble him through his son.

Kunwar Pratap smothered a smirk at his father's resigned face and turned to leave when a small whinny met his ears. Turing he looked towards the direction of the sound and his gaze fell on a lonely stable that stood the farthest from the other horses, tightly bound by a fence.

His feet automatically carried him towards the stable.

'Arrey Kunwar Pratap wait,' Bhim Singh yelled as he and Rana Udai Singh followed the prince.

They reached him just as he was about to open the latch of the fence.

'Which horse is kept here Bhim Singh ji ?' Kunwar Pratap asked his voice laden with curiosity.

'This horse is not for sale Baujiraj' the man hastened to reply.

'Why?' Rana Udai Singh barked out.

'I mean no offense Ranaji but that horse is a devil and unlucky to boot.'

'Devil and unlucky?'

'Yes Ranaji. He is a Kathiawari breed sired by race horse Sardar. Fastest horse in the ranch. Swift like the lightning. But unlike his sire and dam this one is a menace. Unruly untamed. Put two of my trainers in hospital with cracked skull and just yesterday took an arm out of my latest trainer. Last time a customer bought him and very next day his wife returned him back. Apparently her husband was in hospital his right side completely paralyzed. A vicious creature it is.'

Rana Udai Singh gave a grimace at the entranced look in his son's face. No matter how hard he tried to curb his son's attachment to danger, one talk with his grandfather and his love of danger increased tenfold.

'Why are you keeping him then? Put him down.'

'We will Ranaji but after investing $1.5 million just for breeding him we are hoping to get a line from him before we put him down. But the problem is he doesn't allow any mare to step near him.'

However Kunwar Pratap heard none of this. For at that very moment his onyx eyes met glittering black eyes filled with defiance and fierceness.

Dark gazes clashed. A battle of will ensued.

A smile of triumph broke through his face.

Unruly, untamed, unbroken spirit.

Fast and menancing.

Chetak.

'...also that unlucky steed is completely m...'

'Perfect'.

Both the rancher and the Rana turned to look at the smiling boy. He glanced at them with eyes full of eager anticipation.

'I want him. Chetak is mine.'

AN - Sorry for the delay. I had been really busy with my classes.

Thanks to all my reviewers and wish you all a belated friendship day.

Guys if you want the scene of Pratap taming Chetak please mention in your reviews.