by Kevin Missal
“I knew you won’t use them,” Kripa said.
Kalki could hear everything as he silently tiptoed a few paces behind them.
“How did you know?”
“Ah, well, you can kind of predict someone’s actions by observing their behaviour, lass. And I have been observing people for a long time.”
“How old are you?”
“I am more or less your age.”
She shook her head in defiance. “You never share—”
“I am an Ancient, if that’s what you want to know.”
“An Ancient?” She gulped. “I never expected an Ancient to be a bumbling old man, to be honest.”
“I didn’t either. But it’s not about how we look; it’s what we have gone through. You see, people think Ancients are just individuals who can live forever, but they are more than that—they are the keepers of knowledge, they know the truth and history. In fact, there are only ten Ancients who are alive and I know three of them quite well. And the reason they survived was because they had been Endowed with the gift of immortality.”
Padma nodded. “You remind me of my father.”
“You never talked about your father, lass.”
Kalki was surprised how easily Padma and Kripa were talking to each other. This made him jealous since they never talked about their personal lives in front of him. Perhaps they were hiding something from him. Though he won’t blame them for being close to each other. They had been instrumental in saving Kalki together—they must have bonded during that time.
“My father is a bumbling fool, too. But he doesn’t behave like you, you know. I mean, he lives in harmony and peace when the world is going to the dogs. He didn’t do anything when my brothers were killed.”
“Who is your father, lass?” He stopped walking. “Is he . . .” and then his head turned to see Kalki standing behind him. “Oh well, look who’s spying at us. What are you up to, mate?”
Kalki blushed as he casually walked over to them. He glanced at Padma who looked confused and angry—perhaps because she had realized that Kalki had been eavesdropping on their conversation. “I wanted to speak to you,” he mumbled.
“About? About this?” He signalled at Vanarvata. “I believe it is a good learning exercise for us to see the Vanars upfront for they teach us a lot, you know.”
“Why aren’t we just going to Mahendragiri? I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Kripa furrowed his brows. “Ah, well you seem worried.”
“I am not. I am just . . . I think I should go by myself to the hills now. You can show me the way and I’ll go there.”
“I thought you wanted rest, mate, after that fight with the big fiend.”
Kalki shook his head. “Not anymore. I’m fine.”
“And alone?” Padma squeaked, frustrated. “We fought our way here to help you reach the hills and you want to shake us off.”
“You will be fine here. And it will be really cold in the mountains.”
“Colder than this?” Kripa looked incredulous. “Are you trying to get rid of us?”
Kalki sternly glanced at Kripa, his jaw clenching. “I . . . I want to know why you lied to me about being an Avatar.”
“But you are! The symbol—”
“But I wasn’t before. You said I was predestined to be the Chosen One, but I was not. You just got tired of searching for the One so you just made the strongest man in the village into the One.” Kalki had raised his voice. “Tell me something honestly. How did my father know you?”
“Did Bajrang corrupt your mind? Oh, I shall have a piece of him . . .” Kripa began to leave but Kalki held him back, grabbing his arm.
“You are not going anywhere before you tell me.”
Kripa watched Kalki for a moment. He was shivering with anger.
“Did you bring Mlecchas to the village, old man?” Kalki asked, gritting his teeth.
“What is he talking about?” Padma interfered.
“Did you?” Kalki asked, his hands tightening around Kripa and he could see Kripa was hurting, but he didn’t care.
Kripa bowed his head. The playfulness in his attitude had vanished and he simply nodded. “Yes, I did. Yes.”
Kalki released him. “You killed my father?”
“That was never part of the deal. I didn’t want them to kill your father. I specifically told Keshav to just kidnap your brother so you could rescue him, mate. I didn’t know you would bring an army against them. I didn’t know . . .”
But Kalki had lost it. He came dangerously close to Kripa. “Didn’t know? So much for being an Ancient.”
He took a deep breath and stepped back. “I’m leaving. And I don’t want to see you.” He didn’t want to say goodbye to Padma like this, but he just couldn’t control his anger.
And that was when it happened.
He heard the trudging of heavy footsteps and as he turned, a bustling crowd of tall-footed, dark-skinned, oily haired men appeared with shafts and cleavers. They were wearing rudraksh necklaces and dhotis around their waist with battle armours.
Rakshas!
At that instant, the Rakshas leapt on to Kripa and Padma while Kalki tossed his shawl in the corner and lurched at one of them, grabbing the cleaver from him and smashing it over his skull. He could see from the corner of his eye that even though Kripa and Padma didn’t have weapons, they were dodging the attacks. They had managed to take the opponents’ weapons and were using them against the attackers.
Kalki also didn’t have weapons, but he had to fight. He grabbed the fallen spear from the ground and flung it at the one of the Rakshas. The blade pierced his eye and he fell on the ground.
“NO!” He heard Padma’s shriek as she was grabbed by the Rakshas. Kripa let out a groan as he was punched in his gut and taken away.
They didn’t want to kill. They wanted hostages.
But how did the Rakshas turn up here in the first place?
And that was when three Rakshas came and grabbed Kalki. They jumped on top of him, dragging him away but Kalki was more powerful than them. Ten more were charging at him but he flung them away with a single movement, yelling in rage as his muscles tightened. They all lay unconscious in the corner, and some of them managed to scramble away from Kalki.
He needed help from Kara, from Lord Bajrang, ANYONE!
He hoped Padma and Kripa were all right. Despite how much he hated their guts, he wanted them to be safe.
He had failed, yet again.
They were nowhere to be seen.
Manasa couldn’t sleep for the next few days. Nanda’s severed head kept flashing in her mind. She couldn’t believe Nanda was dead. She had cried her eyes out that day. The next day, she had been in denial, and the day after that she had felt numb. It had been four days now, and Manasa had decided to break out from her stupor and do something.
She didn’t feel like speaking to Vibhisana these days. Every day, he would bang on her door and ask if she was okay. She wanted to shout that she was not okay. I am staying with a wimp! But he was so nice that Manasa couldn’t even think of harming him and assuming his throne. People weren’t money-minded here. They followed their hearts. People believed in Lord Vibhishana. Even if he died, they’ll still be his soldiers, and will do what’s necessary and would never bow to another ruler.
I’m so desperate, I’m thinking of killing my own friend.
Manasa laughed at her predicament, fighting back tears. She left her room and walked outside. Reaching the dinner hall, she stood near a window. The hall was filled with bowls of fruits and dishes decorated the platters. A chandelier hung on the ceiling with a golden chain. The window had beautiful drapes and a red carpet covered the floor.
Vibhisana swivelled his head to see her and he beamed. “You are a sight for sore eyes, my dear!”
Manasa didn’t greet him. She looked out the window and saw the colourful city of Bhanmati bustling with energy and music. People had worn colourful robes and dhotis. The women were bedecked with beauti
ful jewellery. It was serene to see such a peaceful city. But then, war only occurs when there is something to fight for. Bhanmati offered nothing but land and beauty.
“You never told me about what my locket does,” she quietly said.
“Because you never let me!” He stood up, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief.
He walked to her and then touched the locket which was a Shard of broken glass inside a circular, gold membrane. “Oh dear, this is beautiful.” His eyes glistened. “I have only heard stories about this. Never thought I would actually get to see it.”
“How do you know about this?”
“My father, Vibhisana the First told me about it. He is an Ancient.”
Lord Vibhishana had been given his father’s name. This practice was common in Naagpuri as well. There, people believed in rebirth and christened children with the names of their ancestors.
“Ancient?” She had heard bogus stories about Immortals, people who could live forever. “There’s no such thing as Ancients.”
“Just because your beliefs don’t match mine, doesn’t mean they’re not true.” He made her take off the locket. “It had been with his brother’s advisor.”
“His brother?”
“You might know him as Dushasan.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m related to one of the evilest men in the world, but well, not anymore!”
“How did your father die?”
“Oh, he didn’t. He just left the material world, thought people would find out about his immortality and question things. I gave him a gurukul to stay in and he teaches children now. Can you imagine a Rakshas teaching children? Sort of ironical since Rakshas don’t believe in textbook training but hardcore, combative learning. He is a learned man, my father.”
“How did he become an Ancient?”
“Lord Raghav had blessed him with the power of Endowment.”
Slowly and softly, Vibhisana began to rub the locket’s exterior, but nothing happened and he frowned. He then struggled to pull the golden membrane out. It was protecting the Shard. Once he did that, the Shard came out. It looked beautiful and had a nice sheen. On both sides, it had a mirror-like quality.
“What is this?”
“The Eye of Brahma, or at least part of it,” he said. “Let’s see which part.” He didn’t explain any further. Looking at the Shard, he said, “Show me the future.”
Nothing happened.
“The future?” Manasa squeaked. After such tumultuous days, she wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.
“Show me the past!” he yelled.
Nothing happened yet again.
“Let’s stop,” said Manasa.
Vibhisana shook his head. “You give it a try. I want you to really picture what you want to see.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think this is the Fourth Shard. Try to think of what will happen if you stay here for the rest of your life.”
She held the Shard in her hand and asked the question that he wanted her to ask. She closed her eyes and let it happen—the energy zoomed from her chest to her arms and she could feel the Shard was slowly burning. It was glowing now. As Manasa opened her eyes, she had a vision. She saw the fortress of Suparns—large iron, basilisk-like building and then from inside, it showed chaos, fire. In the midst of the fire was Kadru, her eyes blazing. Jamun stood beside her.
And she held Lord Tarakshya’s severed head in her hand.
Then in another image, she could see large vessels made of iron and bronze attached with Amrit. They were lit up. These vessels zoomed in the sky and exploded in the streets.
And then the images stopped and she came back to reality.
“Did you see anything?” Vibhisana asked, worried. “Oh dear! You are bleeding!”
“You didn’t?” She could almost feel her voice gasping for breath, as she wiped the blood that came from her nose. “But how is that possible?”
“Your Chakras mixed with the Chakras of the object, but mine didn’t, so only you could see it.” He took the Shard from her and fitted it back into the membrane. “What did you see?”
“Kadru had won.” She sighed. “And she destroyed the Suparns. And I saw fire.”
Vibhisana was quiet.
“And I saw Amrit being used in weapons. She wants to make nuclear weapons out of it. That is why she’s so sure she could take over Bhanmati. That’s why she said to me ‘it’s going to be different this time’. She realized Amrit was not good for humans but it’s good for objects.” She blinked hard. “Is this the future? Have we lost?”
Vibhisana shook his head. “It’s a possibility, dear, it’s not the future.” He sat down on the chair, sweating profusely. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, I cannot let this happen. She’s making astras out of Amrit. That means she could possibly start the next Breaking. My father told me stories—there had been lepers, cannibalism, the sane went mad. It was a bad, bad time.”
Manasa knelt. “This would happen if I don’t do anything and I stay here.”
“What will you do?”
“Can I see it again? I’ll see the possibility of what will happen if I go there.”
Vibhisana disagreed. “You bled. If you use it more often, you might lose your sanity. This is a dangerous object.”
“Then let me do something about it. Maybe I should go warn Tarakshya.”
“Warn? You want to send him a letter?”
Manasa shook her head. “I want some of your men, only a dozen or so, to go to Suparnika before Kadru attacks him.”
“What if he doesn’t believe you?”
Manasa thought about it. He had gotten Vasuki’s family murdered. He might try to kill me.
“How valuable is this?” she asked, looking at the Eye of Brahma. “I mean, it showed me something spectacular, it must be pretty damn valuable.”
“You can’t give this to him. Are you planning to?”
Manasa sighed. “Is this valuable or not?”
“A lot!” he exclaimed. “But you cannot give it to someone like Lord Tarakshya. Oh dear! Oh dear! We are living in bad, bad times. Oh no! They were lost. I-I . . . they were supposed to be lost.”
“What is the history behind it?”
“I need to check my father’s accounts for that. I’m not sure.”
Manasa could understand why he was panicking. But she knew what she had to do. “Give me one chance. Let this be a way for us to reach out and stop Kadru. I promise you, I will do everything in my power not to give this Shard away. I promise you, I will stop her. Just believe in me and give me your best men. I will warn Tarakshya. He might not believe me. He may even try to kill me. But if there is even a small possibility that he will listen, I am ready to take a chance. Suparns and Nagas have had a long, bitter rivalry. It’s time we put an end to it.”
Vibhisana looked at her for a moment, his eyes meeting hers. “If I don’t give you my men, you’ll end up taking them yourself one way or the other.”
“What do you mean?” Manasa could feel her chest pumping with excitement.
Vibhisana smiled. “You have my support.”
Kali had been travelling for a while now. He didn’t know how far they had come. They had taken a donkey cart for themselves. He and Durukti had covered their heads with shawls so no one would recognize them. Shukr was their guide.
Sitting inside the cart, Kali saw Koko and Vikoko. Their hands were clutching their swords. Durukti looked exhausted. But no matter what, Kali couldn’t help but wonder why Durukti had betrayed him. Shukr hadn’t given him all the details. She was my ally. My only sister. And she stabbed me in the back.
Kali thought about how he was led up to this moment. He had been a true friend and a noble advisor to his dear friend Parikshit before he went mad and started to burn down his own kingdom. Kali had had to stop him.
Kali decided to confront Durukti about this later. Right now, he was simply curious about the place they were headed to.
Pataal.
They had lef
t Keekatpur a few hours ago. Kali opened the flaps of the cart and saw that they were close to the shores of Illavarti now. The great wide ocean stretched in front of them. There were a few dimly-lit farms that canvassed further regions.
“We are at the shore,” Shukr called out from the front.
Durukti looked up. “Where are we going, brother?”
Kali sighed. “Where we were born.”
“My lord, may I speak?” Vikoko asked nervously.
“You don’t have to call me a lord, Vikoko. I’m just a peasant now.” He gritted his teeth in frustration. “But yes, please speak up.”
“Why are we going to Pataal?”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Don’t you know what happened to it?” Vikoko asked. It was common knowledge.
Before Kali could answer her, the carriage stopped. Kali got out and saw a cottage. Instead of sheeps or goats grazing in the field, he saw hyenas—three of them tearing the flesh of a goat . . . or perhaps a human.
Kali walked towards the ocean, leaving behind Durukti and his guards. It reminded him of the beach in the western part of Suryagarh where he had fought King Janmejaya. He saw the dark and decadent ocean stretching ahead. Maybe it was because of the lack of sunlight, but the water looked almost black.
“The Black Ocean,” called out Shukr from behind as he walked towards Kali, his hands behind his back. “The Ocean of Asuras, in other words. The entire ocean is drenched in the blood of Asura children, women, and men.”
Asuras had come from a different land and conquered the beautiful Illavarti. People said that when they came, they were bright, beautiful, lovely, and had charming accents. They were so strong that they could defeat anyone. They were foreigners who had conquered Illavarti—the nomads as well as their animals had been hunted down or driven away. The rest of the population was backward, different from Asuras. Only the Manavs were dusky, but they were not as fair as the beautiful Asuras and then slowly the Asuras took over them and became their kings. The fearless and strong Asura people had easily defeated the Manavs and taken over the entire Illavarti.
“One of the mightiest times in our history was when Lord Vritra ruled the Seven Seas in Illavarti.”