“How does it feel? The cold blade to your warm jugular?” Ritr asked Ndra with a grin, as he held his sword to the battered King’s throat. “I can feel your blood flow slowing down, with each pulse.”
“You or your ..” the Great Ndra tried to speak, gathering what energy was left in his body. As he spoke he spat blood onto the marble, already stained scarlet by the blood oozing from his wounds. The magnificent hall lay fallen like its king, completely torn apart, its riches broken like his pride. The court that had flaunted Ndra’s riches and his taste for art lay scattered. The marvellous sculpted statues of ancestral kings and the paintings that once awed the King’s audiences were in bits and pieces. The glossy, rich marble mosaic, inlaid with rubies and sapphires, now wore the look of a graveyard. The satin curtains that once shaded the king were engulfed in fire, and the shattered pieces of a diamond chandelier glittered in the light of those blazing flames. Great Ndra, who hosted the riches of all the worlds, known and unknown, was catching his last breath. He lay trying to rest his back against a broken piece of his own massive black granite statue, which now lay opposite his golden throne. Tears in his eyes and blood from his wounds had become his jewels in his last moments.
The court wore an eerie silence, broken only by swords slashing throats and the cries of women and children running helter-skelter outside the grand palace. The sweet flowing music of the musicians, the laughter of the court comedians and jesters, had been replaced by their silent dead bodies, lying all over.
Ndra’s life hung at the end of Ritr’s bloodstained sword. Ritr kept up his sadistic grip on Ndra, and yet he could not retrieve what he had come here for. The destruction he had brought on Olam Anvyra, the magnificent rich capital of Praleesi, had not yet reaped him the result. Annihilation would be an understatement for the ruin in which King Ndra lay, brutally wounded and lost. The pride of King Ndra too was destroyed along with Praleesi; outside the court, Ritr’s army had set Praleesi on fire. Their sheer joy was to see Praleesi burn, destroyed to ashes. And as Praleesi burnt, the life force in Ndra dimmed.
The great King, who usually wore his pride on his chest, was today brutally disarmed. Ritr stood towering over King Ndra, holding his sword to Ndra’s chin; the blood-smeared blade dripped a few drops onto Ndra. At last Ritr had laid his sword on the great, mighty King, undefeated for many aeons. Rage coursed through Ritr’s body; his face had turned crimson with the blood of courtiers. In spite of achieving the impossible, defeating the Great Ndra, Ritr felt no satisfaction. He stood over Ndra like some lost soul, desperate to achieve his actual goal. Success still eluded him.
The fight with Ndra had worn Ritr out too, and still there was no success. A rage fed by high adrenaline had turned his eyes blood red, as if they were pouring flames, and each tongue of flame seemed to rise only to snatch the last breath from Ndra. Bending over the lacerated Ndra, he asked in a deep, harsh, resentful voice,
“Tell me where it is.”
Broken by the fight, Ndra struggled to move his arms, even his lips. To speak, he paused to gather whatever energy was left in his body. Though his body was harmed, his soul was intact, and the calm in his eyes stoked Ritr even more. With a struggle, King Ndra spoke,
“You won’t find it,” and he slipped deeper towards death, smirking, provoking Ritr with his peaceful eyes.
After the long, tiring fight, time was pressing for Ritr. Ndra’s smirk and peaceful demeanour challenged Ritr’s impatient self. Unforbearing Ritr, boiling with annoyance in every cell of his body, still wanted to prove his might, to crush Ndra’s ego, to see defeat in Ndra’s eyes. Ritr stood still, threatening Ndra, impatience gushing in his veins. He thrust his blade a little further, just enough to cut Ndra’s throat slightly. Blood trickled down Ndra’s throat, coating his family’s large, shiny ruby, and the cut made it harder for him to breathe. But Ndra he was; he remained defiant.
Ritr’s dilemma added to the pressure. He knew he could not kill Ndra until he got what he wanted, but Ndra’s might, even at death’s doorstep, was galling, and it challenged the impatient Ritr. Though he lay at Ritr’s mercy, Ndra made Ritr look the loser. This defeat swelled Ritr’s veins with fury: should he fail again to retrieve the information, what would it say of him? Unable to control his anger at the smirk in Ndra’s eyes, the stressed Ritr thrust the sword further into Ndra’s throat, splitting his jugular and releasing the life out of him.
“You shall never find them,” Ndra said, and fell slain.
The next moment a ground-shaking, thundering blast rippled through Praleesi, and Ritr was thrown off his feet where he stood over Ndra. Protecting his ears from the loud explosion, Ritr got up and rushed to the other end of the hall to see what had happened, and more so to confirm his fear. Far in the distance shone a beam of bluish light, never seen before, rising into the open sky; it sent a neighbouring hill crumbling down. Ritr understood he had made his mistake, and there was no turning back. Ndra’s death at his impatient hands began to sink in. As he moved back towards the dead Ndra, he saw soldiers rushing into the vast, dilapidated court hall.
At the lead of those soldiers was Aahush. He barged in with a few of his soldiers, ready to strike despite the ringing in their ears. Aahush stood motionless at the sight of the dead Ndra. With each stare, anger rose in his body; he tightened his fist on his sword and rushed towards Ritr, but was held back by his own soldiers.
“What have you done?” asked Aahush, trying to free himself from his soldiers.
“He … He … He was not speaking about it, I tried a lot brother, but he just did not,” Ritr replied, sliding his bloodied sword into its carved scabbard.
“You fucking tried shit! Could you not wait for me? All you had was to wait, just fucking wait. Your restlessness has cost us hard Ritr,” Aahush said, pushing aside the soldiers and freeing himself.
“You have just blown up the work of centuries. I did warn you, we Need him ALIVE. How could you ignore a simple thing that as sole ruler of Praleesi for past so many centuries, rather since begin of time as we understand, only he, Ndra could wield it. Without him we can’t get or control it,” Aahush said, stressing it, and moved near the dead Ndra. Ritr already stood there, staring at Ndra with a blank face.
“Did you least get hold of Mskar?” asked Aahush.
“Ritr! Did you?” Aahush asked again, turning towards Ritr, who stood cold, lost in thought.
Ritr, still staring at Ndra, replied, cold but cryptic, “You won’t find them! Were his last words.”
“He said you won’t find them ‘THEM?’ Who is this them?”
“You shall never find them.”
Ndra, last words
“WHAT!” Aahush exclaimed out loud. “Did he really say THEM?” He said it with concern, his face turned as if he had bitten something bitter.
“What have you done brother, your one thoughtless action has set the wheels of time in motion. The one thing which we wanted not to start, you paved a path for it, THEM are here!” Clenching his fist, Aahush struck a marble statue, breaking its corner into pieces. Angered, he moved back to the dead Ndra and stood over him, murmuring to himself, “Them are there, them ARE here!” To find some ray of hope on the other fronts of their war, Aahush, the elder of the two brothers, turned to the soldiers.
“Who was charged with the task of Mskar?” Aahush asked, taking control. “Saket, Nimesh! Who was in charge?” he asked again, a little louder.
Saket and Nimesh, two soldiers, stepped forward with fear trickling down their faces. They knelt down on the right knee, held their right hands horizontal in the air, and bowed their heads onto them.
“Sire Akrames was our battalion leader for the task but he was killed by Ndra’s men,” Saket informed, wiping the sweat trickling from his temple.
“What, Akrames is dead?” Shock written on his face, Aahush inquired further.
“So he being dead, who was next in charge, why I have no information on Mskar yet?” Aahush stood a hand’s distance from Saket, glaring at him.
“I… I was next in order My Lord, but…” Saket’s sentence was broken off by a commotion at the court entrance.
Into the court barged a tall, strong soldier, smeared with blood, still holding his sword high in his left hand, dripping blood. With confidence the fearless soldier walked briskly towards Aahush, urgency in his eyes.
“Who is in charge here?” asked the soldier, with an air of arrogance-filled boldness.
“Stay back! Bloody savage don’t you know how to address your Lord,” Ritr spoke with authority, almost thundered, gripping his sword’s hilt. Hearing ‘Lord’, the soldier’s stance changed at once, as if he had woken to his senses. He immediately held his sword down and bowed his head.
“I apologize my Lord, I but a mere soldier am unknown to the court protocols, but I need to see you urgently, Sire,” said the soldier, bowing at the waist.
“Speak?” Aahush asked, moving towards him, and signalled Ritr to drive his sword back into its sheath.
“Sire, I have Mskar’s news.” The soldier bowed further as Aahush approached him, keeping his eyes on the floor as he spoke.
“Hmm Go ahead,” said Aahush.
“My lord, I must apologize as I broke your orders, I abandoned my position, but seeing Akrames die, I had to do something, I took eleven men to look out for Mskar.” Still bent, he grew tenser with each step Aahush took towards him.
“Easy my soldier, easy, be at ease, what is your name brave one,” Aahush said, placing his hands on the soldier’s shoulders, a little calmer.
“Uhan son of Isnan! Sire,” he said with pride, but only so much as to avoid a display of ego.
“Uhan tell me where is Mskar, tell me you have him,” Aahush asked, inquisitive.
Uhan, his head hung, said, “Sire, forgive me, my limited ability was no match to the bastard master weaponer, I was chasing him as he ran north east towards the forest, I did catch up with him and held him back with my sword but he used some chant and created some out of this world instrument to fly in air, and jumped into air to cross into the forest.”
“That sounds like him, so he entered the forest, Ritr,” Aahush said, turning towards Ritr, still thinking.
“I’ll get right away brother,” Ritr said, preparing to leave.
“Oh! No No, not you for WE have to face the consequences to your action. She will reach here soon. Let this Uhan,” and turning towards Uhan, “You, take best of your men and get me Mskar and ALIVE! Know that Aranya forest is wake, you have to be careful, especially with Mskar and that Kimmara. Get going and prepare for the journey, I’ll brief you further at the city doors,” Aahush gave out his instructions.
Uhan bowed, walked backwards to the door and left the court, which by then was guarded by two huge, monstrous brothers, Kuni-Akuni, known for their fierce loyalty to Aahush. They were famed for not allowing even death to enter if Aahush did not wish it. Even standing at one entrance, they were known to protect every entrance, from each of the ten directions. For now they stood guarding the huge entrance, whose great carved wooden door hung broken from its hinges. The figurines of two dancing damsels on it were clearly visible, but they did not look as attractive as they once had. Scarred with soot and blood, the dancers appeared demonic.
Inside the vast hall were only Aahush, Ritr and a few soldiers. Aahush was asking Ritr about THEM, trying to find out whether Ndra had really said THEM. Aahush and Ritr feared that this THEM meant ‘The Children’ themselves.
“Silence!” Aahush said, a little angered, but it fell on deaf ears. As they talked, a rising unease among the soldiers had been disturbing their conversation. Turning around, he saw his soldiers staring at the dead Ndra. Aahush and Ritr moved over there, and what they saw was unbelievable. Ndra’s wounds appeared to have healed and there was a smile on his face. Slowly his glory seemed to return to him, and his body shone as if it were shedding light. Taken aback by the shining, they could not grasp what was happening. Millions of tiny particles seemed to glitter in his skin.
She…
“You fools!” An angry, strong feminine voice, its tone doused in disgruntlement, was heard in the distance. Kuni-Akuni never stopped that voice, or its owner, from entering; those were Aahush’s orders. Aahush’s immediate reaction was to signal the soldiers to vacate the court. The soldiers rushed out of the hall without even wanting to know whose voice it was. Kuni-Akuni blocked the entrance with their backs to the court hall and stood motionless, like huge stone doors. Only Aahush and Ritr were left behind, and they walked towards the voice.
“One task I give you, one task,” said a tall, slender silhouette with teeming hair, floating slowly, walking through the mist as though the mist formed her, and slowly the silhouette materialised into a woman. Her flowing raven-dark hair was bound together by some invisible band; it appeared sprayed with stars, tiny dots that glittered as she strode towards them. Both stood bowed, facing the floor. She approached them with an icy cold face; her eyes, though captivating with their deep beetle-black pupils, lacked life. Sharp features made her attractive to the point of mesmerising. Long slender hands, fingers that suited a princess, and a stride that displayed royalty in each step. Her persona was attractive, but carried a certain dry coldness, as if death lingered around her. Her robes appeared as clouds floating around her; soft, mushy, textured clouds swayed as she strode. Through the clouds shone star-like dots, as though the night sky were imprinted on her robes, only in white. Barefoot, she hovered in the air, yet walked as if on some hard floor. Though she walked on air, the bloodied floor glowed with her untouched footprints.
She passed by them, still bowed, and reached the glowing body of Ndra. In that glow they saw her face lit up, showing a small streak of satisfaction, as if she had long waited for this moment. She stood there staring at Ndra, drawing pleasure from his death.
“Why is she so quiet brother,” Ritr whispered to Aahush.
“Shut up,” Aahush whispered back with annoyance.
In spite of the commotion outside the palace, the whispers reached her ears. “Why am I quiet? You ask W-H-Y?” She turned towards them.
“This is what you offer me, after centuries of wait, is this what you do? And you ask W-H-Y I am quiet? You destroyed the whole wait to get it.” Composing herself after the brief departure from calm, she asked,
“Tell me you have it.”
“Erh, before he could reveal he died,” said Ritr, with strain in his voice.
“DO NOT LIE TO ME.” Her voice carried a hoarse edge, and as she shouted those words her robes began to turn from soft white clouds to dark, blackish storm clouds; all the white lustre disappeared into those black clouds, with streaks of lightning flashing across.
“Have you retrieved it,” she continued, in a stance that appeared slightly bigger than before.
“Mother, I tried, but he resisted, I tried but he..he..he.. did not reveal,” Ritr confessed his deed, hiding his lack of self-control.
“DON’T DARE ADDRESS ME THAT,” she spoke in rage, startling Ritr.
“If I can give you life, I can even snatch it back, just with snap of fingers,” she said as she walked stealthily up to him.
“Mother he…” Before Aahush could say any more, she swung her left hand through the air and Aahush was thrown aside like paper in the wind. She reached Ritr and held him up in the air by his neck, facing her. Her white princess hands had turned coarse, torrid, bluish and muddy; the cracks in her skin showed the simmering lava hidden beneath. She pressed hard on Ritr’s neck, almost piercing his jugular vein.
“You killed him! Din’t you? Like always could not control your anger.” These words fell on Ritr with caustic effect.
“You are worthless, you do not deserve to live on,” and she tightened her grip further, choking Ritr, whose black pupils had rolled up, turning his eyes white, as he gasped for breath and struggled to release her grip, a futile try.
Aahush rushed to his rescue and reached for her hand, trying to free Ritr, but it was in vain; even with all his might he could not shake her a bit.
“Mother let him go, please,” Aahush pleaded as she continued to torture Ritr.
“Let him go, death to him is no punishment, he is too worthy to be lost, he is my brother,” he continued.
“I HATE his mistakes, I should not have raised him, rather not created him,” and she pressed his throat further.
“Please, let him go, we can still work around, we need him, throw him to lowest rungs of order, let him suffer his doings, but spare his life,” Aahush suggested, hoping she might let him go.
“Arrrrgh!” she screeched loudly, letting him go. Ritr fell to the ground half-conscious, trying to draw in air as he went on suffering in pain. He kept coughing for lack of air, struggling to regain his lost consciousness.
“You, get lost, and don’t come back until you get it,” she said sternly, bending over the gasping Ritr.
“But mother ..” he tried to speak with effort, but she cut him off.
“I am no Mother to you, leave and return only if you have what I sent you here for,” and she turned around, moving towards Ndra.
Left with no option, Ritr, dejected, gathered himself, soothing his neck with his hands and trying to breathe. He looked at Aahush, who signalled him to leave, and crestfallen he moved towards the exit guarded by Kuni-Akuni.
Left behind in the court hall, Aahush walked towards her with caution. She was still in a rage.
He said, “Mother, calm down, please,” but she paid no heed. He continued, “Though Ndra did not reveal its location, he did say something just before he breathed last.” Saying that, he paused to see her reaction. She turned to him, still consumed by her resentment.
Seeing that slight development, Aahush said, “Ndra just before his last moment said ‘you won’t find them’, which means ‘the children’ have it or are here.” Aahush put that forth with the utmost care and caution. She listened, her eyes fixed on Aahush, waiting for his next sentence.
Lowering his tone in concern, Aahush said,
“I fear, just before his death, er ..Umm just before Ritr struck the death blow, I fear Ndra using the powers granted by ‘THE CHILDREN’, he invoked them or RYSA,” and saying that, Aahush glanced at her.
The mere mention of ‘THE CHILDREN’ made her fume, and the mention of RYSA added oil to the fire. Through her obscure black attire Aahush saw thick, blackish bubbles rising as she raged. Her whole self changed into some scary, fierce lady, anger spilling from her eyes; she breathed heavily, a grunt in her voice. Scared, he moved back, tumbling over the broken pieces of floor and statues.
“I AM MAHISHI,” she thundered, and it shook the whole palace. The commotion outside fell silent; even nature stopped for a second, and the lightning in the sky was deafened by that roar.
In the court, along with the shout, she hurled a huge broken piece of statue at the glowing Ndra. It fell on him and exploded into millions of golden pieces, which glittered and settled to the ground as butterflies settle on flowers.
