The Summons

Moksh, hiding a paranormal past, is confronted by Albert in an abandoned warehouse. Albert reveals Moksh's past, including a "fire incident" and his unique connection to the paranormal world. He pressures Moksh to rejoin the Council, a group aware of his abilities, using his family (Tara and Rashid) as leverage. Moksh, feeling trapped and fearing for his family's safety, reluctantly agrees. He suspects Albert is hiding something and fears the unknown dangers he's about to face.

The air crackled with unspoken tension as Moksh stepped back into his own neglected house. Dust motes danced in the lone shaft of sunlight piercing through the grimy window, illuminating the bareness of the rooms. He'd been staying with Rashid Bhai, a refuge from the emptiness that had threatened to consume him. But now, something had shifted. A strange urgency thrummed beneath his calm exterior.

Tara's words echoed in his mind. "They asked you to meet them." The school had never summoned him before. A shiver ran down his spine. Had he done something wrong? Or, more disturbingly, had Tara? The thought gnawed at him. He'd completely forgotten about the parent-teacher meeting yesterday. He'd been so preoccupied, so lost in his own world, that it had slipped his mind entirely. Now, the summons felt like a direct consequence of his negligence. He berated himself for his carelessness. What kind of guardian was he?

He'd tried to pry information from Tara, but she'd deflected his questions with a mix of annoyance and something else…fear? He couldn't quite place it. He'd even asked about the meeting, feigning casualness, but she'd just rolled her eyes and said, "It's about you not showing up, obviously." Her words, though seemingly simple, amplified his anxiety. What else could it be? The principal's office loomed tomorrow, a black cloud on the horizon. He needed answers, and he needed them now.

As he began the arduous task of cleaning, memories surfaced – memories of laughter, of warmth, of a life that felt a million miles away. He'd been so lost, so adrift, that he'd let his own home fall into disrepair. It was a reflection of his inner turmoil. He paused, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. He hadn't even properly acknowledged his own birthday. He'd been so consumed by his own problems that he'd let the day pass by almost unnoticed.

Just then, he noticed a small, neatly wrapped gift on his bed. He picked it up, a pang of remorse hitting him. It was from Tara. He carefully unwrapped it, revealing a framed photograph of the two of them, taken years ago, both smiling, carefree. Beneath the photo, she'd written, "Happy Birthday, brother." A wave of emotion washed over him. He'd been so consumed by his own darkness that he'd neglected the one person who truly cared for him. He clutched the photo, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He had to make things right with her.

The next morning, after a hurried breakfast, Moksh walked Tara to school. He felt a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. He had to face the music.

"Tara," he began, his voice hesitant, "about yesterday…and the meeting…"

Tara sighed. "Brother, it's fine. It was just about you not showing up. Principal sir was a little annoyed, that's all."

Moksh's brow furrowed. "That's it? Nothing else?"

Tara nodded. "Nothing else. You just have to apologize and it'll be fine."

Relief washed over Moksh, but it was tinged with a lingering unease. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more, something she wasn't telling him.

They reached the school gates. "I'll see you after school," Moksh said, giving Tara a reassuring smile.

He walked towards the principal's office, his heart pounding in his chest. He knocked on the door and entered.

Principal Sharma greeted him with a stern look. "Moksh, I'm disappointed. The parent-teacher meeting is important. It's a chance for us to discuss Tara's progress."

Moksh apologized profusely, explaining that he'd been dealing with some personal matters. The principal accepted his apology, but his eyes held a hint of something else…curiosity?

"Tara is a bright student," Principal Sharma said. "She has a lot of potential. We just want to make sure she reaches it."

Moksh nodded. "I understand."

The meeting was brief and uneventful. As Moksh left the principal's office, he felt a wave of relief. It was over. But the feeling of unease still lingered.

He returned home, only to find another package waiting for him. It was from Albert. Inside, along with the badge, ID card, and uniforms, was a letter.

"You can forget, but not me," it read. "This is also your wealth that I gave back to you."

Moksh's fingers trembled as he pulled out the pendant. It was Kazuto Kirigaya's. His mentor. The man who had taught him everything he knew. The man who had died because of him.

A flood of memories washed over him. Kazuto's voice, rough but kind, echoing in his ears. "Moksh," he'd said, "a wise man once told me that past events hurt us. What can we do about it? Either we run away from these events, or we learn something from them." The words, so simple yet profound, resonated with him now more than ever. He'd tried to run. He'd tried to bury the past, to forget the pain. But Albert's return, this pendant…it was all dragging him back into the darkness. He looked at Tara's gift again, the happy memory a stark contrast to the turmoil he felt inside.

A voice, sharp and laced with concern, broke through his reverie. "Crying like this won't do. You've become weak, Moksh."

He whirled around. Albert stood there, a ghost from his past, his eyes burning with an intensity that both frightened and intrigued Moksh.

"The Arabian Peninsula," Albert said, his voice low. "They've summoned you. The elders are waiting."

"The elders?" Moksh's voice was hoarse. "Why?" He struggled to process the information. It was too much, too fast. He thought of Tara, of the school meeting. He couldn't leave. Not yet.

"I can't go," he said. "I have responsibilities here."

Albert's lips curved into a wry smile. "Responsibilities? A school meeting? Those are trivial matters compared to what awaits you."

Moksh hesitated. He knew Albert was right. This was bigger than anything he could imagine. But he couldn't just leave without explaining things to Tara.

"I have to tell her," he said.

"Tell her what?" Albert asked, his eyes challenging. "The truth? That you're being summoned by a secret council of elders? She wouldn't understand."

Moksh knew he was right. He couldn't tell Tara the truth. It would only scare her.

"Tell her you're going on a business trip," Albert suggested. "Tell her it's important. Tell her you'll be back soon."

Moksh sighed. It was a lie, but it was the only way.

He found Tara in her room, doing her homework.

"Tara," he said, his voice gentle, "I have to go away for a few days. A business trip. It's important."

Tara looked up, her eyes filled with concern. "A business trip? Where?"

"To the Arabian Peninsula," Moksh said, trying to sound confident. "It's a big opportunity. I'll be back soon."

Tara nodded, but her eyes still held a hint of worry. "Be careful, brother," she said.

Moksh smiled. "I will."

He hugged Tara tightly, a wave of guilt washing over him. He hated lying to her, but he knew it was for the best.

He turned to Albert, who was waiting patiently. "Let's go," he said.

The journey to the Arabian Peninsula was a blur. Moksh was trapped in his own thoughts, haunted by the past and fearful of the future. He knew, deep down, that this was more than just a summons. This was a reckoning.

They arrived at the sprawling complex, ancient and imposing. Moksh felt a sense of dread as he followed Albert through the labyrinthine corridors. The air was thick with secrets, with power.

They were led into a vast chamber. Elders, their faces etched with age and wisdom, sat in a semi-circle. They looked at Moksh with an intensity that made his skin crawl.

A tall, imposing figure stepped forward. He was the leader, his presence radiating authority. "Moksh," he said, his voice resonating through the chamber. "We have summoned you because…we believe you possess something that belongs to us."

Moksh's heart pounded. "What are you talking about?"

The leader's eyes narrowed. "You know what we are talking about. The power. The power you inherited from Kazuto Kirigaya."

Moksh felt a chill run down his spine. They knew. They knew about his powers. Powers he had tried so hard to suppress, to forget.