The Sage's Secret

by Abhinav Menon

  Behind his red hood, Kalarakshasa clicked his tongue at Bhairava’s emotionality. He had purposely hidden the details of Kalanayaka’s mysterious death from his adviser. For he’d known—and was proven right—that the very mention of the sorcerer’s defeat would be enough to send Bhairava into a rage. Disclosing the peculiar circumstances of his killing to top it all was certain to set off panic bells in his head.

  But the death bothers me too, the Demon of Time thought to himself. I was so consumed by the events that I didn’t even check for any signs of life—a stupid mistake on my part! Could he have been saved? No … I doubt he is alive. But the more I think about it, the more certain I feel that Kalki could not have killed Kalanayaka—he is far too weak. And didn’t I spot surprise in his eyes when Kalanayaka was pulled into the ground and the fire erupted? So who killed him? Dweepa? No … couldn’t be … He was unconscious. This mysterious killer is indeed a concern.

  Kalaguru took a deep breath and turned to the cloaked figure. ‘I expected Kalki to be vanquished easily. He was NOT supposed to be this powerful. But things went horribly wrong today.’

  ‘I don’t know how, but Kalki was defending Kalanayaka’s every attack,’ Kalarakshasa spat.

  Bhairava grunted.

  ‘After Kalanayaka died, I debated whether to confront Kalki and finish him off myself. But as there was no way of knowing the avatar’s potential now, I refrained from challenging him.’

  ‘That was wise, my lord.’ Bhairava sighed and finally sat down across from Kalarakshasa. ‘All our plans have been upset now, haven’t they, my lord?’

  Kalarakshasa leaned towards Bhairava. ‘I don’t think so. The developments around Kalki haven’t disturbed our plans. Our agenda is constrained only by time, not Kalki. Regardless of his existence, my plans will proceed smoothly. Yes, Kalki is a threat that I have factored in. But he can never stop me.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant, my lord. Kalki has now realized that there are people in the world out to kill him. So won’t he and Dweepa try to seek them out, eliminate the threats?’

  ‘Of course they will! But how will they come to know about us? The only person who jeopardized our existence has been buried by Kalki himself.’

  ‘But … what do we do on the off-chance that he does come to know of us?’ Kalaguru asked cautiously.

  The Lord of Time laughed mirthlessly, the echo reverberating in the stone chamber. ‘Kalki will never find us … Not until we reveal ourselves, my friend. But I respect your argument, Kalaguru. What do you think we should do if Kalki discovers us?’

  Kalaguru smiled. ‘Well … I guess you could bring forward some of your other plans.’

  Kalarakshasa looked at Bhairava, intrigued.

  The adviser explained himself, ‘For instance, I believe you could wear the armour now, instead of later.’

  Kalarakshasa chuckled softly under his hood. ‘I guess you are right, Kalaguru. It is indeed time … I will also continue keeping an eye on Kalki and Dweepa.’

  After a moment’s pause, Kalarakshasa got up and motioned Bhairava towards the door. ‘I have something to take care of. So I am going to meditate.’

  Kalaguru Bhairava bowed and took his leave. But before he exited the chamber, Kalarakshasa asked him a question. ‘Regarding the armour, do we know where the Guardian is?’

  Bhairava turned to look at him, an evil gleam in his eyes. ‘No, we don’t. He keeps changing his location. But I can track him down.’ With renewed cheer in his tone, he asked, ‘Do you want me to find him, my lord?’

  Sitting cross-legged on the cold floor, Kalarakshasa turned his hooded face to Kalaguru. ‘At the earliest.’

  Bhairava bowed again, a broad smile on his face, and shut the door behind him. Kalarakshasa looked away and closed his eyes.

  I need to prevent them from looking into time …

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Alean figure, shrouded in a thick blanket, approached the dilapidated stone structure in the middle of the forest clearing. From behind thick clouds, the sun lit up the glade feebly, throwing him into relief. A heavy bag hung from the man’s shoulder, and he walked with the support of a wooden stick, his right ankle temporarily dislocated. On his cleanshaven face were black eyes and a pointy nose. A short crop of wavy hair fell on his brow. His skin was wrinkled, a testimony to the fact that, at fifty, he had started ageing.

  The stone building looked like an abandoned ruin, but the man knew that wasn’t the case. When he reached the facade, he paused and glanced at the circular dome it had for a roof, perforated with gaping holes. Creepers and vines twisted around the dark walls. The man closed his eyes and waved his hands in front of him, his lips quivering as he chanted the age-old mantras. This was a custom he followed whenever he went somewhere new. He did this to shield that place with magic and protect it from supernatural forces. His incantation produced a unique charm that revealed his presence to only those whom he wanted to meet. It was a mantra created by his lord.

  After a few moments, he opened his eyes and studied the building, satisfied. A locked door greeted him at the entrance. A wave of his hand, and it swung open. Contrary to the exterior, the room he walked into was large and well maintained. The cavities in the roof allowed sunlight to pour in. There were lamp brackets on the walls around him, as well as a couple of windows, though they were shut tight. The stuffy stench of disrepair filled his nose, the undisturbed dust particles penetrating his senses. As he limped across the stone floor, faint clouds were stirred up with each step. At the far end of the room, he peered at something on the floor.

  The wooden trapdoor.

  With another wave of his hand, the trapdoor swung open. A flight of stone steps led down into the darkness. He brought out a torch from his bag and, flashing it down the stairs, slowly descended with cautious steps.

  He reached the foot of the stairs and spotted a row of wall sconces to his right. Putting the torch away, he brought out a matchbox and lit the wax lamps one by one. The surrounding glass amplified the yellow illumination cast by the wick. Now he swept a careful look around the empty room.

  He set his bag down on the floor, propped his stick against the wall and let the blanket fall from his shoulders. Bending, he fished out a leaf-wrapped bundle from his bag. Rummaging further, he brought out a heavy cloth bundle and untied it. As the folds of cloth unravelled, a small wooden chest came into view. Taking a key out of his bag, he unlocked the chest to reveal four boxes: a small rectangular one made of white marble, one made of black marble, a black stone box and a compact granite one.

  His eyes gleamed with happiness as he studied the white marble box, which was covered with intricate carvings. Holding it gently between his fingers, the man straightened up and cautiously placed it on the floor, in the centre of the room. He retraced his steps to his bag and sat down, facing the white marble box, which was a few feet away from him. Putting the wooden chest back in his bag, he inhaled deeply, and, with his eyes shut, started chanting mantras, while his palms were turned towards the box.

  After some time, he snapped out of his trance and looked at the result. What was once a small box was now a large marble structure—seven feet long and five feet in width—the engravings on it sprawling and elaborate. It stood at an impressive height of four feet. The man smiled, pleased with what he saw. He bowed his head in reverence.

  My lord’s coffin! One of the few treasures I swore to protect, but the most important one of them all!

  The other valuables were safe inside the wooden chest. He had been guarding these objects for aeons. Initially, when he had taken up the responsibility, he used to remain in one place for a prolonged period of time as it was difficult to move the treasures around, especially the caskets. But a few centuries ago, from an ancient text he learnt the art of shrinking objects as well as restoring them to their original form. The text was one of the many early writings he had been given, too, to protect. Having learnt that skill, he had been moving around frequently, making it difficult for pe
ople to track him down.

  Each instance of a treasure being handed over to him was vivid in his memory. The casket in front of him, for instance. It had happened centuries ago, yet he remembered it like it were yesterday.

  Having been summoned, he entered the palatial room illuminated by flickering lamps. Maroon silk drapes hung over yellow walls. The room was bare except for the large marble structure in front of him and the two people standing next to it. Their faces and figures were hidden under dark, billowy shawls. He bowed low, wondering why he had been asked to come here and who these people were. But, most of all, his eyes were drawn to the marble structure.

  As if in response to his thoughts, the taller of the two men beckoned him, his hand on the cool white marble. ‘I would like you to guard this coffin forever … Throughout the centuries to come, Koka … But what I require of you at the earliest is to move it to a secure location …’

  Koka stared wide-eyed at his interlocutor. But I am just a soldier! he thought.

  Two days later, when he left the palace in search of a suitable location to move the casket to, he was given the title of Guardian and blessed with long life—a really long life …

  Nowadays, the taller of the two men went by Kalarakshasa—his teacher—and the other man was Kalaguru Bhairava. The Guardian smiled, recollecting the memory.

  A pang of hunger brought him back to the present. He unwrapped the other bundle and retrieved an apple from an assortment of fruit. Taking a gratifying bite, he admired the marble casket. With a smirk, he thought of the person whose body was resting inside.

  Kalki’s arch-nemesis … Kali!

  WHAT IS A YUGA?

  There are four yuga or ages in Hindu mythology: Satya, Treta, Dwapara and Kali. The yuga repeat themselves in a cyclical pattern of time.

  As per Hindu cosmology, the life cycle of a yuga spans between 4.1 to 8.2 billion years—which constitutes just one full day for Brahma, the creator of the universe. And upon the destruction of each yuga, the earth resets.

  According to Srimad Bhagavatam, the Satya yuga is 4800 demigod years long; the duration of the Treta yuga equals 3600 years; the Dwapara yuga extends over 2400 years; and the Kali yuga will last for 1200 years. One year for the demigods is equal to 360 years for human beings.

  The four yuga follow a ratio of 4:3:2:1 and represent a gradual decline of dharma, wisdom, knowledge and emotional as well as physical strength of character.

  The Satya yuga was a period completely devoid of sin and evil.

  The Treta yuga was a period when evil was present in the world, but mankind still followed the path of goodness.

  The Dwapara yuga saw good and evil hang in equal balance.

  The Kali yuga, the current age, is one in which evil dominates the world. The Kali yuga is believed to have started with the death of Krishna.

  ABOUT LORD VISHNU AND THE DASHAVATAR

  Lord Vishnu is one of the most important gods in Hindu mythology. He is one among the supreme Trinity, or Trimurti, alongside Brahma and Shiva. It is said that Brahma is the creator, Vishnu the protector and Shiva the destroyer.

  The word dashavatar is a combination of two words: dasha, meaning ‘ten’, and ‘avatar’, meaning ‘incarnation’. The Dashavatar refers to the ten avatars in which Lord Vishnu appears on earth. It is said that whenever evil grips the planet, Lord Vishnu comes to earth and defeats all malevolent forces.

  Below is the sequence of the ten avatars assumed by Lord Vishnu across the yuga, which, some believe, reflects the theory of evolution:

  Matsya: The avatar in which Vishnu takes the form of a fish and kills the demon Damanaka to save the Vedas and all of mankind.

  Kurma: The avatar in which Vishnu takes the form of a turtle to help the devas and asuras churn the ocean of milk—in the event called the Samudra Manthan—for amrit, the nectar of immortality.

  Varaha: The avatar in which Vishnu takes the form of a boar to rescue Bhoomidevi, or Mother Earth, from the clutches of the demon Hiranyaksha.

  Narasimha: The avatar in which Vishnu takes the form of half-man and half-lion to defeat the demon Hiranyakashipu and save his ardent devotee, Prahlada. The name Narasimha comprises two words, nara, meaning ‘man’, and simha, meaning ‘lion’.

  Vamana: The avatar in which Vishnu takes the form of a dwarf and then grows into a giant to rid the world of the virtuous king Mahabali, one of the Chiranjeevis (immortal living beings).

  Parashurama: The avatar in which Vishnu takes the form of a Brahmin and kills Kartavirya Arjuna’s entire army and then decimates all of the Kshatriya clan twenty-one times. The name Parashurama roughly translates to ‘Rama with the battle-axe’.

  Rama: The avatar in which Vishnu appears on earth as the righteous prince of Ayodhya and kills Ravana of Lanka to rescue his wife, Sita. Shri Ramachandra is one of Vishnu’s most famous incarnations.

  Balarama: The avatar in which Vishnu appears on earth as the elder brother of Krishna. He is said to be Krishna’s constant companion and a knowledgeable agriculturist.

  Krishna: The avatar in which Vishnu slays his evil uncle, Kansa, and many other demons, as well as plays an instrumental role in the events of the Mahabharata, preaching the discourse of the Bhagavad Gita. Krishna is the most well-known and beloved avatar of Vishnu.

  Kalki: The avatar in which Vishnu acts as the harbinger of the end of the Kali yuga. The last incarnation of Vishnu, it is the only avatar of the protector god that is yet to manifest itself.

  Some believe that Krishna is the eighth avatar of Vishnu, followed by the Buddha as the ninth, who is incorporated into the Hindu pantheon. Yet others believe that the Kalki avatar has already appeared on earth—as the Buddha, or even Jesus Christ. For they tried to shoulder the sins of mankind and show them the right path.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Writing this book has been a journey for me, and I would like to convey my heartfelt thanks to those without whom I couldn’t have completed it:

  My parents, Ambika and Ashok, for they are the ones who introduced me to the world of stories and never let me run out of books. That’s where my imaginative mind comes from, I believe. And my dear sister, Akshata, for her support and her mischief, and for being there for me.

  Mrs Sowbhagyalakshmi, my schoolteacher, who was one of the first people to mention the concept of the four yuga and the Kalki avatar to me. Her words remain with me even today, some fifteen years later.

  Sumedha and Ankur, the first readers of my manuscript, who gave me their honest feedback, which helped me improve the story.

  Archith, Hemal and Anitha, who were supportive of my attempt at storytelling—with special mention to Hemal, with whom I discussed the concept of the series as a whole. Deliberating over the Kalki Chronicles with him helped me iron out the plot.

  And all my friends and family for their support and encouragement.

  I would also like to express my gratitude to all the folks at Red Ink Literary Agency and Penguin Random House India who made this book come to life, with special mention to:

  Anuj Bahri, my agent, for his confidence in the Kalki Chronicles.

  Sharvani Pandit, my editor at Red Ink, who helped me enormously by editing the manuscript and making it even more thrilling and worth showcasing to publishers.

  Hemali Sodhi, my publisher and marketing partner at Penguin Random House India, for believing in my story and helping it see the light of the day.

  Arpita Nath, my editor at Penguin Random House India, who painstakingly went through every line and suggested changes to me that I believe have helped shape the book to perfection.

  Kankana Basu, my copy editor at Penguin Random House India, for helping with all the little details, perfecting the grammar and making sure the book was good enough to be on a shelf.

  And finally, I would like to thank you, my reader, for giving me the chance to tell you a story. I hope the Kalki Chronicles entertains you as much as I intended it to.

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  First published in Penguin Books by Penguin Random House India 2018

  This Collection Published by 2018

  Copyright © Abhinav Menon 2018

  The moral right of the author has been asserted

  ISBN 978-0-143-44236-3

  This digital edition published in 2018.

  e-ISBN: 978-9-353-05293-5

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.