The Games of Magic

‘The last descent…The scriptures mention about it. Riding a white horse armed with all the mightiest weapons of the universe, he will descend on time. Kalki, the last incarnation of Vishnu, is yet to descend on earth.’ Parth reads the excerpt with pride. “She has come. The last incarnation of the Almighty has come,” he murmured.
“She is not his favorite, but her father needs her. He needs her comfort. Aastha is the only special heart that holds the secret to everyone’s happiness in the magical community. She is a magician’s doll or a miracle herself! She is a necromancer’s life.”
Known to be a wanderlust, Parth never settled for peace. His yearning for something grew more than before as the days passed.
He didn’t sleep for nights. He once thought - “I should visit a psychiatrist.” The psychiatrist advised him of proper rest and good sleep.
Parth revealed his innermost desires to his friend, Mohan.
He once said, “I want her heart. When will it come to me?”
“Heart? And you? Since when have you moved on from platonic love to the transactions of heart”.
“Are you through with romancing or what? Don’t you want your food of sex and foreplay, that you are having cravings for a heart?” Mohan laughed.
“No, it is not about love. I need to do something about it.”
“You look tense. At the moment, all you need to do is to get up from the sofa. Don’t you want to get ready for class? Your students are waiting for you,” he added.
Parth just won’t budge. Mohan splashes some water on his face.
“Ugh... I hate you. Why did you splash water on my face?” spluttered an angry Parth.
“Yeah, I know...” placated Mohan. 
“You will hate me now as all your love goes out to the heart you were talking about,” laughed Mohan.
Mohan and Parth share a 2BHK apartment in Mukherjee Nagar, Delhi. Mukherjee Nagar shelters students of all genres who come from across the nation to take coaching in the Institutes. While Mohan shares his room with Parth, Nachiket and Rehan are his other mates sharing the same flat. All are teachers teaching different subjects at the “Learner Coaching Institute” that provides training to students for various competitive exams at the national and state levels. One of the most reputed institutes in Delhi, the Learner Institute, was famous for teaching subjects like mathematics and reasoning, and its training to the students by Keshav Sir. He was a well-known figure in Maths.
“I need her heart?” continued Parth.
“Whose heart are you talking about? Is someone new on your mind? I know you had a break up with your girlfriend recently. I see you miss her a lot, but I cannot see you sad and missing her badly”.
“No, it is not so. I don’t miss anyone. You know how I am.”
“I believe you. Now, let us keep going. We need to reach the Institute on time”.
The morning was bitterly cold. As cold and bone-chilling as winter mornings in Delhi can be.
Aastha sipped on a cup of hot chocolate when she received a call from her home.
“Hello, Mom. How are you doing? How is everyone at home?”
“Everyone is fine. How are you doing? Are you ready for your interview?”
“I was just out to searching for another job. Let’s see what happens”.
“I’m sure you will secure a good job soon. I have full faith in you”.
“What time is your interview?” asked Rita.
“I will leave in the afternoon. I don’t know what will happen today.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Yes. A bit”
“Everything will be fine.”
“My heart is a ‘weak heart’, it seems, and my worries are never-ending”.
“I don’t know when I will get someone with whom I can share my worries.”
“What did you just say?”
“Nothing mother. Talk to you later.”
Aastha had a decent three years of practice in the various lower courts of Delhi and the High Court of Calcutta. She left her practice only to prepare for the union civil services. It is her quest for learning that landed her in Mukherjee Nagar. Before coming to Mukherjee Nagar, she worked with a proprietary law firm, ‘Ranjan and Associates’. Smart, witty, intelligent, and known to succeed at anything, she had a spiritual bent of mind. She had a small stature. Despite being of a diminutive height, she attracted many males into friendship because of her sweet looks, round features, and amiable nature. Her spectacles covered her small eyes. She always preferred short hair and wore a tomboyish look, not intending to please anyone.
It was noon, around 1 pm. 
“It is getting late,” she thought. “I should leave now”.
Aastha left her home to board a share-auto for Mukherjee Nagar. Aboard the auto, she saw someone staring at her. Stalking was not a penal offense yet, and in Delhi, they did not consider women safe, even in broad daylight. She became apprehensive. He was a strong-built man, tall, smart, with curly hair adorned with spectacles. He was Parth.
Wearing an astonished but carefree look, she dials a number to speak - “Yes Mom, I am out to the Institute. I will talk to you later. I have reached my destination...”
Turning to her right, she finds the man still looking at her. He speaks to someone over the phone when sudden screams fill the street. There was enough activity around the place.
He mumbled over the phone, “We need her.. her heart and her life energy. You know what I mean?” Saying so, he gazed at the students around.
There was tenderness in his look, smile, and touch, which was out of bare necessity. He needed to open the door of the vehicle to get down. 
Aastha and Parth look at each other.
He looked directly into her eyes to try one of his tricks, for which he was famous in his circles.
With no luck, he gets down from the vehicle.
Aastha moves towards him. He doesn’t know what to do other than stand tall before her.
“Why is she coming towards me?” he pondered. “What do I do? I cannot even run away from her. Nor can I stay with her for a longer time. I am not allowed.” Parth looked worried.
Oh, my gosh! She is nearing me. What do I do now? 
Seeing her coming towards him, he closes his eyes in fear and amazement.