by H. K Oby
As for why a thief had studied physics… his cons had often been so ambitious that he had needed to figure out answers he wouldn’t have been able to find anywhere else.
He hadn’t really observed this particular section of the two islands from above. On both sides, a grassy area as large as a football field was present, bordered by a forest that seemed to begin at the exact same distance from the river on both sides. As he studied the woods on his side, trying to spot any other living being except for the mean one beside him, he blinked and stared, transfixed, as an object rose from somewhere behind the forested area, passing through the air quickly before alighting right in front of him.
Is that a...chariot? Haven’t I seen the sort on the road, sometimes, being pulled by horses? No, it’s slightly different…
It was a round, covered platform, domed above, ending with a sharp point. Tastefully decorated with images of men battling what looked like monsters, it had four staircases that led to the ground in four directions. The waist-high railing of the platform was connected to the dome by shining columns that glowed. That glow slowly disappeared with each second, almost as if they were powering down.
Three individuals stepped forth from the strange flying machine. Two of them were middle-aged, while one had a beard that reached his knees. He wore the same dhoti that Amin was still dressed in, yet in a different fashion, one he had seen on priests in Hindu temples. The garment covered his legs and a section of it was also draped over one shoulder, covering a part of his chest. The other two wore their white dhotis in the same way the bully had when he first saw him: around the waist.
The three were as different as they came. The old man was the very image of serenity; his eyes were like deep pools filled with the quintessence of all the knowledge of the world. Of the other two, one was muscular, so much so that Amin wondered whether he was a wrestler of some sort. He also sported a short beard covering half his face, yet his eyes carried all the information Amin needed to know about him: this was someone used to violence, both dishing it out and dealing with it if needed.
The last man was slim and short, with a slight paunch that he had a habit of patting. He even rested his hand on it, looking as if he was satisfied with whatever was inside it. The corners of his lips were quirked up mischievously as if there was a joke in his head he would not share with anyone, but as he studied Amin interestingly, goosebumps rose on his skin as it felt as if he was suddenly on the chopping block, being measured out so that he could be portioned perfectly.
“Right on time, Bhishu, like always. The others should really learn from you. They really started slacking off too much… we should hold a meeting soon. All of our time is important; we can’t go wasting it waiting for new Deathsworn to arrive.”
With a start, Amin turned around and came face-to-face with three more men, all seemingly having appeared out of nowhere. He searched behind them, fully expecting to see a different version of the flying vehicle, but there was nothing there.
They had come arranged in a triangular formation, and as he focused his gaze on the one who was at the back on his right, he understood how he had been caught unawares: that man was hovering over the ground. He dropped to the grass shortly, but that didn’t remove the glint that had appeared in Amin’s eyes.
So it can be learned! Dammit, I really want to! How amazing would it be if I could just drop out of the sky, take what I want, and fly away? Putting aside the practical uses, it would be so fun and just incredible! Am I getting too far ahead of myself?
The question made him calm himself and stand straight. There was only one philosophy that he firmly believed in, one philosophy that had given him hope even when things seemed dire: set a goal in mind, and do everything you can to achieve it, ignoring everything else. He had a purpose, now, in this new and weird world that he found himself in, and that gave him the clarity and zeal to face whatever may come.
Bhishu, as the being had been called, laughed heartily and replied without making an effort to conceal the joy in his voice.
“You should definitely do that! I often tell my brethren to sort themselves out, but no one listens! It will be good to see them all. I’ll go find a few and see if they’re willing to get together for a reunion. I’ll be taking my leave, then.”
The one who had spoken, the leader of the delegation from the other side of the river nodded, and the bully flew into the air, not even sparing a glance for the two of them. Amin kept his eyes on him until he was nothing but a pinprick in the sky, and even after that. Only the question presented to him by the one who had spoken to the bully made him turn back around.
“Why do you stare so? Let me guess: you think he’s Lord Hanuman? If he was, he would have directly transported you through space instead of having to fly like the rest of us!”
The two behind the man laughed as if he had made the best joke in the world, immediately branding themselves as sycophants. Amin turned his gaze to them, studying them as thoroughly as he had studied the other three, and this time, he dwelled on the detail that had let him know where they had come from: their clothes were as modern as the land he had seen from above.
All three were dressed in suits that had been modified. The jacket had been elongated so that it reached their knees, and the bottom part of it was open. The pants they wore hugged their legs closely, almost like jeans. Their ties were smaller than regular ones, almost like the sort that people wore at parties. All in all, it was a hodgepodge of fashion that Amin had no particular opinion of, but as the one who had made the joke swished one side of the jacket so that it flared out behind him, he had to admit that the outfit was kind of cool.
The leader’s hair was slicked back with gel. He had been heavy-handed with it; the hair shone as if it was glazed with ice cream. All three were young, with the leader looking slightly older than the others. All three were clean-shaven, with fair skin, features that he had seen called handsome by a few targets he had staked out and skin so smooth that he was tempted to believe they were the scions of wealthy families, too.
The other three were rugged, as if they had lived their lives in the village he had seen from above, performing manual labor and using their own hands to make their food. There was a clash of a way of life here, probably a clash of even ideologies, and the moment the two groups eyed each other, Amin detected friction in the air and knew that he was right.
It feels like I’m standing between two rival gangs…can I take advantage of that, somehow? I’ll have to wait and see…
There wasn’t outright animosity in the way the two groups eyed each other, but Amin spotted contempt, pride, and in one case, even jealousy. The last had been visible in the eyes of the leader of the modern group when he gazed at the wizened man, and as the latter spoke, all five inclined their heads respectfully, joining their palms together and bowing slightly.
“The auspicious time is upon us. Let us begin.”
Rising, all six walked in the direction of the enormous tree. Looking beside him, Amin pursed his lips when he saw that Rishi had adopted the same position as the others, even mimicking it perfectly.
Was I supposed to do that? Not off to an excellent start, am I?
Shrugging, he turned to them and felt awe filling him again when each of them stepped off from the ground as calmly as if they were stepping onto a staircase and flew into the air, arraying themselves around the trunk of the tree and closing their eyes in midair, with their hands outstretched, palms facing the trunk.
“It’s all true. It’s all true! How? This must be the biggest kept secret of the world! How is this even possible?”
Hearing Rishi stammering to himself, Amin turned to him and asked, “What are you muttering about?”
The rich kid looked at him ponderingly, probably going through all of their interactions before, trying to decide whether he should answer or not. In the end, the urge to talk seemed to win out over everything else; raising his hands excitedly, he said, “Hindu mythologies! Everything we�
��ve read in stories and heard from our grandparents is true! I caught onto it when Mr. Bhishu said we had arrived in Ayodhya, but it was confirmed when that man said ‘Hanuman’! The mythologies are true! Wait, so magic, gods, monsters…all of it is true, too?”
Hindu mythologies? Really? Well, if that’s the case, I definitely have some answering to do…but wait, what was that about Ayodhya?
He asked the same and received a look from Rishi that he hated; it was the look of someone mocking him for not knowing what should be common knowledge. He almost burst out angrily as he always did whenever some know-it-all looked at him like that, but before that, the answer that Rishi gave made him pause and re-evaluate everything he had seen so far.
“The famous city that Lord Ram ruled over! How can you not have heard of it? There is even a dispute over its location right now, so it’s in the news everywhere…”
Amin nodded slowly, now recalling where he had heard that name. It made sense, now, and that meant that Rishi was right…and he was probably in trouble.
They probably won’t care. I have been insulting what they believe in, what they must have seen to be true, but they will be willing to wipe the slate when I say I didn’t know, right? Yeah, it should be alright…
Taking deep breaths, Amin tried to calm his racing mind and galloping heart. Putting himself to work always helped in this task, so he set himself to recalling each and every scrap he had read about the mythologies.
As he examined what he came up with, he sighed. It was embarrassingly vague; the most precise information he had related to ghosts as that had been his most common con, but he doubted whether that would be relevant right now.
He did know the most common tales; two, to be exact. One was called the Ramayana. Just to be safe, he had heard the abridged version from one of his lackeys who had an inordinate amount of interest in books and stories. It was a story of an avatar of god, come down to earth to rid it of the evil that had grown unabated for a long time. It was a story of a good and loving boy who listened to his parents no matter what they said. It was the story of a man who vanquished evil using powers that should not exist…
Ah, I see it now. How did I not make this connection myself? Probably because I’ve gotten too used to believing that all of that is trash.
The other was called the Mahabharata. This was apparently a much more complex story; the underling had struggled to summarize it into a timespan where Amin would pay attention. It wasn’t that he got bored quickly; no, he just believed that certain things should be given only a certain amount of time because the rest could be used effectively in many more ways, such as identifying new targets or learning a new skill that could aid in a getaway.
The Mahabharata was a story of a family with too much enmity. At least, that was how that guy had put it: Amin had no opinion of it, himself. He remembered guffawing when he had heard that on one side were a hundred brothers. His mind had gone down indecent pathways, wondering how such a thing could even be possible. These one hundred had gone up against just five, but apparently, justice was on the latter’s side or some such heavy-handed stuff, and they won.
He just hoped that no one asked about them, or he would have to jump into the river to save himself from the shame of having to give an answer.
A sound akin to a massive pane of glass falling on the ground and breaking into a million pieces made him snap his head up and wonder what the hell was going on. The source was visible as soon as he did so: the six now stood facing them, but the area around them had changed.
Countless glowing halos surrounded them, melon-sized, swirling masses of mist that emitted light from somewhere deep within, reminding him oddly of the flash he had seen before being transported into the air. They filled almost the entire sky, arranged at equal distances from each other. By his estimation, there were at least a hundred of them, each hovering a few feet from each other, at the same height as the six whose eyes were all focused on them.
The old man stepped forward, looking exactly as if there was a platform in the air below him that none of them could see. When he stood at the head of all the others, he took in a deep breath and spoke in a sonorous voice that echoed endlessly, like an effect in a movie theatre.
“Two new Deathsworn join us today. As the first elder, I welcome you into our ranks. I know what you’re thinking; you understand nothing of what is going on. Alas, those answers will have to wait as you have come at a difficult time. Deathsworn must be initiated when the time is auspicious, and after now, there is no such moment for the next one week. Uninitiated Deathsworn cannot be allowed to stay in Ayodhya, so we are forced to speed through things. Do not worry: right after this, you will be told everything you need to know, but before that, let me give you a short summary.
“To the outside world, you are dead. A copy of your body was placed where you were in such a way that no one will be able to tell the difference. No one will also be able to remember what happened the moment before the Pulse chose you. To the outside world, you are dead, and to us, you have just been born. Sworn in death, sworn to death. Your life has been saved in exchange for your service. The world is at risk from forces you cannot even begin to comprehend. After you have been trained, it will be your duty to protect those who cannot save themselves. The choice to leave your post is always present, but if you do so, the favor that has been given will be taken back. You will be sent to Yama, the god of death, and it shall be as if this never happened. In other words, you will be dead in truth.
“Before we proceed, I must ask: if all of this is too scary for you, say so now and save yourself the trouble from seeking out death later. Answer. Do you wish to live and repay your debt? Or do you wish to spurn our favor, spurn the Pulse, spurn the divine undertaking that is the duty of all those chosen?”
The old man's last words were like thunder, striking down from above and almost driving him to his knees. He heard Rishi actually fall to his knees, probably weighing his options. The kid must have lead a great life; if that was true for him, even he would at least consider dying and taking his chances. After all, if all this was real, then heaven and hell must also exist, and if there was a chance of going to the former, who wouldn’t at least think before making a decision?
For him, though, not even a second was needed.
Stepping forward, he said, “I wish to stay.”
The old man nodded as if he had expected nothing less. A few seconds later, surprisingly, the sound of footsteps appeared from beside him, and a shaky voice echoed his response.
Amin looked at Rishi disbelievingly, unable to believe that the kid had made his decision so quickly. He had fully expected the guy to agonize over it for quite some time, but it seemed that he was still due for some surprises.
As the old man nodded again, the deep lines on his brow smoothened out. Raising one hand and sweeping it in the air, gesturing at all the halos, he said, “The initiation can begin. To serve, you must be capable of service. Each of these is an essence of a god or one who was deemed powerful enough, given to us in good faith. You will pass through each, searching for acceptance and the bestowal of that being’s gift. This gift will enable you to obtain a certain level of accomplishment in that being’s primary siddhi. I’ve been told that to you laymen, a siddhi can be explained as a... superpower.”
The old man’s nose wrinkled as he said that word, as if he couldn’t believe what he was saying. Amin almost felt like chuckling when he saw how strange it was to hear such a word from a venerable grandfather who could be seen outside criticizing his grandson's taste in movies, but the implication of what had been said was too interesting to distract him.
They were going to be given superpowers.
Please let it be flying. Please let it be flying. Please let it be flying.
Praying within, Amin scanned each halo, trying to find a hint of what it may contain. It was futile; each looked exactly the same, with no indication whatsoever of which being it represented.
To
him, this was all like a dream. In a dream, one wouldn’t really question everything; they would just go with it and think about it afterward. At the moment, the only thing he wished for was that this initiation would end with him flying out of here, so when Rishi rose into the air beside him, floundering helplessly as if he was drowning in water instead of being granted the exact thing that Amin wanted, he grumbled beneath his breath, feeling like someone who had got up early to get into a queue but had been cheated by someone who had gotten past him using illicit means.
Rishi’s pathetic yelping almost made Amin want to look away, but he was too interested in what was going to happen to give in to that urge. The rich kid barely managed to balance himself by the time he reached the pulsing lights. As soon as he came into contact with the mist coming off of one of them, he gasped and went still, but even though Amin strained his eyes as much as he could and tried to make out details, nothing else happened.
The six were unperturbed. Some of them folded their hands as if settling in for a long wait, while others even took out phones, startling him momentarily until he turned back with the fear of missing something.
Only the two lackeys of the modern group were the ones who had done so, anyway, and Amin expected nothing less of them. Even he began to grow bored, soon, when all he saw was Rishi fly through halo after halo, pausing in each for different times, but showing nothing outside except for shock that was somehow of the same amount when he entered each one.
Amin was an expert in paying attention even when there was nothing to see, though, so he continued his observation. At least a half-hour later, Rishi finally remained where he was for more than 10 seconds, which was the longest he had spent at any particular halo.
The wizened man had been watching, too. His brows narrowed as the seconds ticked by without Rishi moving to the next one, and finally, instead of just staying as it was and still being visible where Amin’s body didn’t touch it, the halo disappeared completely.