The Mists of Brahma

by CHRISTOPHER C. DOYLE

  ‘Impressive,’ Vishwaraj said, ‘but still below par, my friend. You have much to learn before you can effectively defend the scion of Yayati. Oh, by the way, did you know that I too am a scion of Yayati?’

  His face grew serious. ‘I’m done playing games,’ he said. ‘I warned you. I gave you the option to save yourselves. I had promised Poorvapitamah that I would not hurt you if I could help it. But you took it upon yourselves to provoke me.’ He pointed at Arjun. ‘You, scion of Yayati, I concede you are brave. We are cousins after all. But if you are no match for me, how do you expect to stop the all-powerful Son of Bhrigu? I think I need to put you in your place. And we have witnesses. How nice. They can go back and tell the rest of the Sangha about how “the One” could not stand up to young Vishwaraj, let alone defeat the great Shukracharya!’

  Arjun’s eyes widened with fear and Agastya immediately stepped in front of him to protect him.

  Vishwaraj pointed at Agastya. ‘Apasaarayati!’

  Agastya had raised his brahmadanda in defence, but to no avail. He went flying to one side, ending up in a heap on the floor.

  He lay there, watching in horror at the scene that unfolded before his eyes.

  In a fraction of a second, it was all over.

  Chapter One Hundred and Twelve

  No!

  Maya’s House

  Arjun’s blood ran cold as he heard Vishwaraj’s threat and saw Agastya flung away from him, helpless as a leaf caught in a strong gust of wind.

  Time seemed to stop as he looked into Vishwaraj’s eyes and saw his intention there.

  There was only one thing Arjun could do. It was the only thing that was left in his control.

  Futile, perhaps, but still in his control.

  Raising his sword above his head, he charged at Vishwaraj with a warcry.

  Vishwaraj stood unmoving and chanted in a calm voice: ‘Mahamaya prajvalati. Vadabamukha!’

  Arjun didn’t recognise the mantra but he felt an unbearable heat suddenly pour out of every pore in his body, mere milliseconds before his body spontaneously burst into flames. He cried out in anguish for one brief moment before collapsing to the ground.

  Vishwaraj glanced at him once, then turned and walked out of the house, carrying the inscriptions with him. The others didn’t deserve his attention. But he had finally delivered his ancestor from the threat that had been hanging over his head. Not that it had turned out to be much of a threat. But at least it didn’t exist any more.

  The One was dead.

  Inside the house, Agastya scrambled to his feet. He had recognised the mantra that Vishwaraj had invoked. It was a very difficult mantra to master, combining the power of illusion with the power of igniting fire.

  Everything had happened so fast that by the time Agastya got to his feet, Arjun was already engulfed in flames. And, in any case, he did not know the mantra that could counter the one Vishwaraj had used.

  He knew there was nothing he could do to help Arjun.

  From the other side of the room, Maya rushed towards Arjun, but the the flames were too strong to allow her to get close.

  Amyra crept out of the shelter of the desk, also in a state of shock.

  ‘Isn’t there something we can do?’ Maya pleaded, tears streaming down her face as she looked at Agastya, who was on the verge of tears himself. ‘Please, Ags, do something! How can we save him?’

  Agastya shook his head numbly. The mantra was a powerful one. Everyone present could see Arjun burning, including Arjun himself. It was an illusion, there were no flames in reality, but Arjun would die believing that he was, indeed, alight. He would feel the pain of being burnt alive. Even his armour would not be able to protect him from the illusion.

  And all three of them—Maya, Amyra and Agastya—would watch Arjun burn alive.

  It was over in a matter of seconds. The fire had disappeared and all that was left of Arjun, to their eyes, were ashes on the floor of the study.

  And his sword, which had clattered to the floor when he collapsed.

  Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen

  Grief

  Maya’s House

  Maya sat next to Arjun’s ashes and wept bitterly, her body racked by huge sobs.

  ‘It’s all my fault!’ she wailed. ‘All my fault. I asked him to come with me. If I had left the Gurukul by myself, this would never have happened!’ She buried her face in her hands and bawled her heart out. Her closest friend, the only one she considered family, the only one she had trusted after her father’s passing, was dead.

  And it was all because of her.

  Agastya sat in silence. He had his own demons to battle. When it had come to the crunch, he had failed. There was no way a Kshatriya like Arjun could have taken on a Rishi like Vishwaraj, who was so much more powerful than any of them could have believed. More powerful than any member of the Sangha, in fact. Vishwaraj had not merely created an illusion of fire. He had summoned Vadabamukha, the powerful fire that resided under the ocean, making it a part of the illusion. It was this melding of Vadabamukha with the illusion that made the mantra he had used so deadly. The resulting blaze was both real and unreal at the same time. A power that no one alive could wield. Except Vishwaraj, as they had witnessed today.

  Amyra sat in stunned silence, unable to believe what had just happened. It seemed so unreal, so unfair. It was difficult to believe that the One, the boy whom she had looked up to ever since he entered the Gurukul almost a year ago, had been reduced to a pile of ashes.

  For an hour or so, they sat around the ashes, struggling to come to terms with their loss.

  Maya’s tears seemed to dry up at last and she just sat there, staring into the distance, saying nothing.

  At length, Agastya came and sat next to Maya. ‘We need to get help,’ he told her. ‘We need to get out of the house.’

  Maya shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘We can’t leave without his ashes. We’ll take them with us.’

  ‘We can’t,’ Agastya replied. ‘We’re part of the illusion.’ He explained what Vishwaraj had done, the mantra he had used, and its effect on Arjun and the three of them.

  ‘So you see,’ he concluded, ‘we can’t see anything but ashes, whereas, in reality, Arjun’s body is lying right here. As long as the illusion is in our heads, we will see nothing but his ashes, even if we know it is an illusion. But if we can get someone else to come here, someone who has not been subject to the mantra, they will see Arjun and not the ashes and can help us take his body from here.’

  Maya started sobbing again at the reference to Arjun as a corpse and not a living person.

  ‘We need to hurry,’ Agastya said gently. ‘Soon, it will be dawn and the neighbours will begin stirring. We can’t afford to have anyone find us here with Arjun like this. It will compromise the Sangha.’

  Maya nodded and wiped her tears. ‘Maharishi Ratan … I will go and fetch him,’ she said. ‘I know where he lives.’

  ‘We’ll stay here till you return,’ Agastya said. ‘Come back quickly. Time is running out for us.’

  Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen

  Help Please!

  Ratan Tiwari’s House

  New Delhi

  Maya stood outside Ratan Tiwari’s door and rang the bell. There was no response. She rang the bell again.

  She heard footsteps approaching.

  The door opened a crack and Tiwari’s sleepy face appeared. His eyes widened and all traces of sleep vanished when he saw Maya standing there.

  ‘Maya! What are you doing here?’

  The door was flung open and Maya rushed in and started sobbing again.

  ‘Now, now,’ Tiwari said comfortingly as he led her to the sitting room and made her sit down. ‘What’s the matter? What happened?’

  Megha, Tiwari’s wife, came bustling into the room, wearing a floral nightgown. ‘My goodness!’ she exclaimed, shocked to see Maya with her dishevelled hair and tear-stained face. ‘What happened to you, child?’

  In betw
een sobs, Maya narrated the entire tale to Tiwari and Megha. She told them about her ill-advised adventure in the Dandaka forest, her expulsion from the Gurukul and their unfortunate expedition to her old house in Delhi, concluding with a summary of the one-sided battle with Vishwaraj.

  There was silence when she finished. Tiwari and Megha were aware of Maya’s expulsion from the Gurukul. But the chilling encounter with Vishwaraj came as a shock.

  ‘Dear God,’ Megha breathed, ‘I cannot fathom what you have been through.’ She looked at Tiwari. ‘Ratan, you’d better go with her.’

  Tiwari nodded. ‘Give me five minutes,’ he told Maya.

  Exactly five minutes later, he was dressed and ready. ‘Will you take us there?’ he asked Maya. ‘It will be faster than driving.’

  Maya nodded, and in a matter of moments, they were standing outside her house.

  Tiwari hurried in and stopped short on seeing Arjun’s body on the floor. Despite knowing what had happened, the sight of the One of the prophecy lying lifeless on the ground shook him.

  He knew he had to first rid the three children of the illusion that they had been subjected to.

  ‘Stand before me,’ he instructed them, then intoned, ‘Nirvyajikrta bhavati.’

  Instantly, a film seemed to lift from Maya’s eyes and she saw Arjun lying there, his eyes closed, his visage peaceful.

  ‘Help me,’ Tiwari said. ‘We have to carry Arjun outside and lock the house behind us. If we leave it open, there could be trouble. As long as it’s locked, no one will bother. Maya, will you take us all back to my house?’

  Maya nodded and the three children helped Tiwari carry Arjun out of the house. The door had a self-locking mechanism, which Tiwari activated. It would be enough to secure the house for now.

  Soon they were back in Tiwari’s house. Knowing they were out of immediate danger, and exhausted after all that had transpired, the small group felt quite overwhelmed in this very normal setting. Amyra shed silent tears while Agastya barely spoke a word. Tiwari realised the only way to help them out of their daze was to lay out a plan.

  ‘I know this is hard to think about, but we will need to take Arjun back to the Gurukul,’ he said. ‘The Sangha Council needs to know about all that happened and they will decide where the last rites will be conducted.’ He placed a comforting hand on Maya’s arm as she broke down again, at the mention of last rites. ‘Will you take us there, Maya?’

  ‘I will,’ Maya said, ‘but I will not stay. I will transport you all there and leave. I cannot stay at the Gurukul. Not just because they have expelled me. I cannot bear the thought of seeing Arjun like … like this.’

  ‘Where will you go, child?’ Megha asked. ‘Why don’t you come back here? In any case, the Sangha had wanted you to come to us in Delhi. We’ve been appointed your local guardians, after all.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Maya replied, grateful to have somewhere to stay. ‘I will come back here.’

  Where else could she go? Who else did she have left in this world?

  ‘Let’s go then.’ Tiwari nodded to the three children.

  Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen

  Farewell to Arjun

  The Gurukul

  The eastern sky was beginning to banish the darkness and a pre-dawn glow was spreading across the horizon as Tiwari and the three children, carrying Arjun’s body, appeared in front of the Assembly Hall.

  ‘This is where I say goodbye.’ Maya’s voice was lifeless and dull, as if something or someone had crept up in the night and robbed it of all zest and cheer.

  And life.

  Tiwari nodded. ‘I’ll see you back in Delhi in a few days,’ he said.

  Amyra stepped forward and gave Maya a big, warm hug. She knew how close Maya and Arjun had been and sensed, rather than knew, the extent of her loss. Moreover, Amyra could see that Maya still held herself responsible for Arjun’s death.

  ‘Take care, Maya,’ she whispered. ‘I hope we will meet again.’

  Maya returned her embrace wordlessly and shook hands with Agastya, who returned the handshake silently. He hadn’t spoken much since the events of the night. The trauma was still etched in his eyes.

  Ratan Tiwari’s House

  New Delhi

  ‘Okay,’ Megha said to Maya, ‘you go straight to bed and try and get some rest. You’ve been through a lot and I’m sure you want to be alone right now.’ She smiled at Maya and led her to the guest bedroom.

  Maya was grateful for the solitude and Megha’s kindness. But sleep would not come to her. She felt like she had lost a part of herself. Like something inside her was missing. And she knew it would never come back.

  How would she cope for the rest of her life, knowing that she had led her dearest friend to his death?

  Maya knew that Time was a great healer. At least, that was what everyone said. But Time could not take away the sense of loss; it only made it easier to cope with it. She had only just begun to come to terms with her father’s death. And now she had one more loss to bear.

  She didn’t want to use the shantaa kaaram mantra to calm herself down and fall asleep. She didn’t think she deserved the peace and rest that the mantra would give her.

  She sat lost in thought until the sun had risen in the east.

  This was what life was going to be like for her, she reflected. There would be no peace for some time. Maybe forever.

  Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, she fell asleep.

  Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen

  Maya Gets an Idea

  Ratan Tiwari’s House

  Maya awoke with a start. The curtains were drawn and the room was in darkness, but she was sure she had slept much of the morning away since she had fallen asleep only after sunrise.

  She slid out of bed and pulled the curtains apart, allowing the bright sunshine to stream into the room, flooding it with light and dispelling the darkness. For just a few moments, the memory of what had happened the previous night stayed away from her.

  Then it hit her with full force. The image of Arjun going up in flames, the horrified faces of Agastya and Amyra, her own helplessness at being unable to save her friend; it all came flooding back, along with the guilt, the remorse and the self- flagellation.

  But she also realised what had woken her up.

  She had been dreaming.

  It had been an amazing dream. It had featured her father, the Devas, who were building a strange wall, and a sheet of black paper with white inscriptions on it. It was when she came to the part where she was speaking with her father that the words hit home. Her father was telling her a story about Shukra, going back thousands of years, and something that Shukra had said or done then. It was a story from the Mahabharata.

  Maya struggled to recollect what it was that had struck her during the dream and had caused her to wake up so abruptly.

  What had her father said to her?

  And why had it roused her from sleep?

  Still thinking, she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

  It was then that she remembered.

  In no time at all, Maya had finished washing her face, showered and donned the fresh clothes that Megha had thoughtfully laid out for her. Then, emerging from her room, she looked for Megha. She couldn’t leave without letting her know. She found Megha sitting with her laptop, working in the living room.

  ‘You’re up! Let me whip up something for you to eat, child,’ Megha said.

  But Maya could not stop for food. She knew she was running out of time. She had to leave now. She bid a hasty goodbye to Megha and before the woman could react, she was back in her room and shutting the door.

  Then she vanished.

  The Gurukul

  Panna National Park

  The residents of the Gurukul had gathered in mourning, outside the Assembly Hall. Arjun’s body lay within, as the Mahamatis discussed the arrangements for his funeral.

  Kanakpratap’s face was black as thunder. When Arjun had left with Maya and the others last nigh
t, he had thought he would only have to explain to the Mahamati Council about Arjun’s sudden departure and convince them to wait until the children returned to see what they had accomplished.

  Little had he known that, before the night was through, before the Council had a chance to question him, his nephew would return. But not in the manner he had expected.

  He didn’t blame anyone, least of all Maya. Agastya and Amyra had given a full account of all that had transpired in Maya’s house last night. Even though Jignesh had felt that Maya should not have asked Arjun to accompany her, he had agreed with the others that it would be unfair to blame the children in any way. They could not have been expected to stand up to Vishwaraj. Agastya’s graphic description of the manner in which Vishwaraj had attacked them had convinced the Council that, in addition to his existing strength in the siddhis, Vishwaraj’s powers had been enhanced by Shukra’s mentoring. They had already witnessed his extraordinary abilities during the siege of the Gurukul by the Nagas almost a year ago.

  ‘He died bravely,’ Kanakpratap said finally, when the analysis and discussion were done. ‘Like a true Kshatriya, he did not flee when the odds were stacked against him. He attacked with his last breath. I am proud of him.’

  But that did not change the fact that Arjun was dead.

  And the Sangha had lost the One who was destined to lead them against Shukra.

  Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen

  Maya Confides

  Satyavachana’s Cottage

  Maya appeared in front of the cottage, having transported herself from Tiwari’s guest room in Delhi. Satyavachana’s dog, Maharaja, who had grown to recognise Maya, barked happily on seeing her. She stroked his head gently and ruffled his fur before knocking on the door.

  She heard the Maharishi approaching the door.

  He threw it open and stared at her in surprise. ‘Maya! What are you doing here?’

  ‘I need your help, Mahamati.’

  ‘Of course, child. Tell me what I can do for you. Does the Sangha know you are here? You were supposed to be in Delhi!’