by ASHUTOSH RAI
Gita in melancholic voice said, ‘Saras, My son I want to see your marriage before my last breath. I want to see your marriage. I would be happy if you do this grace on me. Before the holy fire accept her as your wife. I am only now a guest of an hour.’ Gita flinched her eyes.
Saras put Gita’s head on his lap. Tears were advancing down from his eyes.
‘Maa, Please. You will be alright in two days.’
Gita even smiles in pain. ‘No one can change the truth. This is my time. I have to leave. You have to take care of your father and Kumud. This is your journey. Your future….. The news that you are live has lit the fire of vengeance and freedom. The bravery is still shimmering somewhere in the heart and soul of people. Freed everybody from the shadow of darkness. You are the only hope.’
Saras was speechless. His mother was in much pain and dying but he could not do anything to save her. He can’t get the way to torch the light of his mother’s life.
Seeing the condition of dying Gita, Nandkant was shocked. He neither had seen Gita in so much pain. Her eyes appears to be bulging out and the way she screamed had penetrating the ears. But controlling his conscious, he insisted Saraswatichandra who has gone abject, to complete the last wish of Gita.
With a sad heart and tears troubling eyes, both married following the traditional rituals around the fire of Gocau Volcano. With aid of Avneish and Dravid, Gita sat near a big stone relaxing her body on it. Volcano had been turned into a mandap and Nandkant with shivering mouth was the priest who chanted the holy mantras. Gita who had brought and grown up the little prince of Virnagre as her own son closes her old eyes for forever with a little smile of satisfaction and love for her child. She tried to lift her hand for giving blessings to the newly married couples but her dying health resisted her from doing so. Her soul walked for heaven, leaving the tears of depression of losing someone in the eyes of family and friends. Gita’s body vanished into powder as her soul leaves for other world.
Saras with a voice firing as balls of sun obliges to end the rule of black age and to establish again the epic age of happiness and prosperity where there is no place for any evil. ‘I am before the mouth of Volcano. I oath to slay that Evil Lord Jakrant. I will sure the total destruction of Sharak. I hope Saile must be in Carmuel, the capital of Chandier Kingdom. She may alert Sharak about us.’
Saraswatichandra whose eyes were red with anger comes down the volcano near the outer wall of Charcoal Palace and saw an engraved picture. It had the same eyes that once he had seen in the temple of Vahuns. He said to Nandkant, ‘I know these eyes. I saw them in the temple of Vahuns…….’
Glancing at the charcoal printed eyes of white polish on the wall of Charcoal Palace Kumud whispered at once. ‘I saw them too. These eyes are similar with that of Anantvir. I have seen them in that book. Anantvirum. Eyes like that of you which had concealed a lot of pain inside.’
‘Just on a behalf of two pictures we can’t justify that Anantvir is Jakrant. I don’t think that Anantvir is Jakrant.’ Saras cast a calm look at Kumud. Even in extreme turmoil of his thought, his eyes appears to soft like before as he looked at Kumud.
‘You may had heard Saras that in some part, mostly in east – the people think that Jakrant is no one else but an incarnation of Anantvir.’
‘I don’t care about it Kumud. Now I had an aim. I have to finish the silent horror that is killing the mankind. I want revenge. And even if you are right. If Jakrant is the same man whom I had admired. If Jakrant is incarnation of Anantvir. It really don’t matter. He will die at my hands.’ said Saras angrily gazing at the eyes on charcoal wall and walked off to the mouth of volcano.
‘Revenge is not the best way to solve our problems,’ bellowed Kumud. She realised the nervousness of her husband. He was in great need of support and the way Kumud said her supposition had jabbed his feeling. He was a true admirer of Anantvir. And if the rumour of east come true one day then it break Saras from his soul.
Avneish was busy with his soldiers. Dravid had laid the order to throw the dead bodies in mouth of lava. Throwing the last Cauvcrach, he saw Saras moving around the mouth of Volcano. He was inconsolable for the moment, absorbed in pain recalling his childhood which he had spent with the sweet memories of his mother. Oblivious to the surrounding he came to the edge of Volcano’s mouth. He steps ahead and would have died if Avneish was not present there. With his powerful fist Avneish grabbed Saras by his hand and pulled him out on ground.
‘Thanks’, said a distressed Saras without even looking at Avneish.
Avneish, the prince of Redra was famous among his men for his bravery and anger. He knew well that through what situation Saras is going on and for the first time in his life he was not angry for ignoring him. His men were amazed as they had thought that Avneish will bark. But instead a loud angry voice, Avneish spoke with quite softness. ‘I am younger than you but I know that it is not easy to handle this. Sometime these emotion take use beyond our hold. No one will help you to get out of these painful memories.’ Avneish blinked his eyes in console. He hold Saras as he staggered. ‘You have to try yourself. I know well that how bad it is to live without mother. Give some time to yourself. Turn your pain into your anger and burn your foes with its flame’, said a concerned Avneish gently. Saras nodded and then Avneish took Saras back, near Kumud and others. Everyone was sitting on stones in a circle staring on the asthiya of Gita that was bounded in sheaf of white cloth in centre of the gathering. None had a glint of happiness for their win over the dark witch. Even not Avneish, who had always enjoyed celebrating his small wins over the black flag. He was standing beside his father, silent and steady, his jaws clenched. Their eyed had shed with slow tears. Somehow Saras controlled the cyclone of anger bursting in his soul, mind and heart.
Nandkant heard about the incident. He roared with his left eyebrow frowned. ‘I will avenge. The black flag will pay for it.’
Dravid who was left to Nandkant, was too shocked after hearing it from one of his men. He took a deep relaxing breath as for the first time he heard that Avneish didn’t fired. Energetically he said, ‘It means an open revolt and for this I am with you, Nandkant. It is time to ask questions. And answer of every question is just one. It is the blood of the bloody bastards.’
Mahmud added to Dravid, ‘And for that all we have to unite the kingdom of remaining four Satyarathi King. We need a large army.’
‘Only four?’ asked an amazed Saras. He had controlled his feeling on hold for the discussion.
Mahmud replied, ‘We all were eleven. Three died, three are here, four in their kingdoms, and last one is unknown. May be somewhere on Uttarmathons.’
Saras startled as he heard Mahmud. ‘I know that there was a group of eleven Satyarathi. And only Dirgha the leader of Dwarfs was assassinated while others are living. You said that three died. Then who are those still surviving?’
Mahmud said, ‘Abhiyudh, Mandhir, Hi Len Duerk and Harintdev are in their respective states. And about Elcleis as I said just before. No one knows where he is. For twenty three years, no one heard anything about him. I guess may be somewhere in north on Uttarmathons because that was his home for decades and surely he can help us if we find him before others do. Helping us is alike inviting a disaster. It will break the dark silence of twenty three years. It can mark the beginning of a second long war of destruction. And as a king they all may deny us.’
‘Before others do? Who-others?’ Kumud raised her doubt. ‘Why do they deny? They all are Satyarathi Warrior?'
Mahmud moved his head toward Dravid. ‘I think Dravid can say this better.’
‘After the fall of Emperor, Sharak attacked all the Satyarathis and their Kingdoms so no one could raise voice against him. Kanch, Alexistan, Redra and Virome had raised their voice two times but at last all over. Mohammad Sakri of Alexistan who was chief of the Paks and king of Alexistan, Vabral of Kanch who was the last commander of allied army of Kanch and Tayns and Ceaser Kurien Cruise - all were murdered and their entire k
ingdom is now a barren land stricken in clutch of coward, poverty and deliberate like Angabhumi, the capital city of Virnagre. Everyone mused in thrall of darkness. I escaped to Rakt Mountain and started living in shadow of holy tree, Raktvriksh. The tree is really magical. Any soldier could not succeed in finding me. I was made invisible in shadow of Raktvriksh. During that dangerous time, Abhiyudh and Mandhir asked me to help but I denied then. It had two reason. First, I had only twenty men with me and second was hatred for them that didn’t existed long. They too had denied when I asked them to join me and help Kurien in his war. They said that they had made a pact with Sharak so they can’t come with us. Emperor Vikramchandra is dead and I am just a poor Rikkshar. So they can’t dare to join me and get their people harmed. We all know that what happened after it. Sharak send his black flag to march on the lands beyond the ocean. The land, the air, the sky and the water with every other thing that we knew, bogged in a terrifying silence. Brave men died and coward and cheaters took birth. Day by day temples, mosques and every sacred place was destroyed,’ said Dravid thoroughly in his strong voice. ‘Sharak murdered my family. Avneish was saved by the royal babysitter who later send him to me.’
Nandkant suggested, ‘The Vanara King Abhiyudh will help when he will learn about his sister Gita.’
Dravid added, ‘And Mandhir will too. I am sure If Abhiyudh will help then Mandhir too will come forward to help us because there is engagement of Ranjit, the only son of Vanara King Abhiyudh and Preeti, daughter of Phanin King Mandhir. Most probably, after a month in Kapikshetra.’
Nandkant raised his eye brow and said something which started the journey to THE EMPTY THRONE. He said, ‘I don’t know what is going to happen except the knowledge that the black flag have to fall forever. The lost age will come once again. The epic age of harmony will rise with an epic affluence. SOON.’ He continued. ‘The throne of Purvakhand will not be an empty throne any more. Tomorrow before the sunrise Mahmud- you and Dravid will take Kumud to Kapikshetra. And my son Saras, you have to visit the mountains of Uttarmathons to water the asthiya of Gita into River Shanti and to find the Virum Blade and Elcleis. You must return with them and we all will meet now in Kallirathya. The fall is to come. The war has begun.’
‘And you Pita ji……?’ asked Saras. His eyes were still red like a stone heated into extreme fire.
Nandkant started before Saras would complete his saying, ‘I will be here waiting for the witch. I know that she will come. And you all will go without any further comments, suggestions and questions. Go and sleep tonight because from tomorrow struggle for light begins.’
Next morning Saras taking the asthiya of Gita and blessing from Nandkant climbs on the horse that Avneish gave him for Uttarmathons. The wind had changed its direction for the first time after twenty three ears. It started from north allowing a calm atmosphere.
‘Take Care. Come back soon and don’t forget to bring that Virum blade,’ bellowed Nandkant from behind.
Kumud with a weak smile, cast a glance at Saras who disappears in light of sun riding far away. She wished if she could join him. Her eyes were blank and her mind was filled were reverberation of words: ‘The fall is to come. The war has begun.’ She felt the change in the wind as her hair comes to her lips.
Kumud, Avneish and the two old Satyarathi warriors, Mahmud and Dravid along with the Rikkshar army started for Kapikshetra. Nandkant was waiting for the cruel men of Sharak in charcoal palace remembering his beloved wife who was no more.
It has been ten days over. Saras was now in territory of Virnagre. He was staying near the bank of River Shanti in an old hospice of Santagraj City which has turned into a ruins of massacred happiness. The dark silence of black flag has absorbed the satisfaction of the people of the land in the same way in which it created havoc in all other parts of kingdom where people live as a slave and there was no place for those who were weak under the black flag of evil which has eyes of Jakrant as symbol of superiority.
Now Virnagre was not like the story he heard from his mother. It was even worst. There was food and water but people can’t take it on their own need. The people who were known once for the opulence are now the poorest in compare to people from other kingdoms. The treasure looted, the temples and schools were destroyed, skills of the young are being ruined, the big public halls were now turned into ashes and the beautiful land turned thirsty black drenched in abhorrence as a silent dark rainy sky with continuous thunders stands high over it and direful air of kingdom singing the story of its destruction.
There he worked for a puppet of black flag as a carpenter so he could collect enough swarn-mudra. He need them to afford a boat so he could cross the might river. Sometime he was abused and beaten by a long barbed hunter during his work just for fun by the men of the black flag. The bastards of black flag do this regularly with the poor worker working and with people residing nearby. It is the last of week and his third evening in the city. He could feel same worst environment. He had collected sufficient amount to abroad Uttarmathons. Before him few workers are beaten on pole and he could do nothing except continuing his work. Every time he asks the same question to himself. “Do really he is a Rakshak? THE-MAN-WHOM-FUTURE-AWAITS?”
The evening was ready to answer him. Like other days sun was again on his duty, it hides beneath the horizon leaving orange lines in sky. He was near the river bank submitting the asthiya, literally the ashes and burned bones of his mother. He scarcely had completed his task and heard a crying. Crying, dying and wailing was a common thing in Santagraj. Saras felt ashamed for his three days of cowardliness. He didn’t knew that how will he abet. He had seen twelve death in three weeks. Those all were murder of those who tried to smile on kind things, on good things. The voice become louder with every lipta. Saras turned back. A boy of ten was coming to him, crying loudly like a wolf had seized his leg and started chopping him.
‘What happened? Why are you crying?’ Saras asked humbly patting the boy gently. ‘Stop crying. Say me the reason.’
The boy has a fresh horizontal cut on his forehead and was bleeding from his lips. He pointed toward the city market. A mob was collected there restricted the vision to watch that was going there. Saras thought that it may be another brutal murder but he was left startled when heard the boy. ‘My Sister!’ said the boy shivering and fell on ground. He has high fever. Saras took him on his left shoulder and gushed for his room. He laid the boy on a chair and gave him medicines and moved back to start for the market.
The boy kneels down and cried. ‘Please, Sir help me. Save my sister. They took her away to the market, on the podium. They murdered my father and mother. They are cruel.’
‘Stand up’, said Saras humbly holding the shoulders of the boy to make him stand. He took his bow and half-filled quiver of arrows. ‘I will sure her safety. You should rest now. In an hour your sister will be near you,’ said a confident Saras before he rushed to the market. His tone affirmed surety to the boy. The boy looked at him with unfathomable respect. Saras was the first man who neither abused him nor rejected his request.
A wounded girl of sixteen was wailing in middle of market surrounded by sixteen men on the large stone podium. They were drunken and intended to rape her. Sixteen wick on an innocent of sixteen. The local people of the city gathered around the girl and those bastards like any act of stupidity is going to take place and they will have fun watching it.
She cried aloud joining her hands. ‘Help me!’ She repeated crying twice, thrice and for the fourth time but no one came ahead. One of them came near to her and whipped her ruthlessly with a steel chain and then leapt to grab on her cloths. The girl steps backward to save herself and a second man appeared from back and held her up from her waist. She cried, ‘No, Please. For the god’s shake. I want to go home.’
‘Home! She wants to go home.’ The voice appeared truly wicked with a short laughter. It was Varesh, a captain of Black Flag. He pranced slowly to the girl and held her hair, pulling her ahead. He grinned menaci
ngly. ‘So hurry. Shame on you. You should wait. I am your master. Actually I am master of this city. I am Varesh. Don’t you like to give us some pleasure? Take off your clothes so it would be a perk for my men or I may use my power for fun and you can lose your family. Err… Sorry. It will be your brother who will die if you get late in fun. I and my men are thirsty. Give us some drops of your cry. Some drops of your melodious body. Let your skin feel the thunder. Let us start.’ He stripped her clothes from her breast, making them half bared. She sighed and covered her body by her hands. All the sixteen sinister started a loud evil laughter and rounding the girl.
She was completely frightened. No one was daring to save her from those bastards. She knew well that no one is going to save her. Her wounds were bleeding and she eyed on the sword hanging on the left of Varesh’s waist. She came forward, removed her hand and feigned a smile. She leapt down and tried to clutch the sword but caught. Varesh slapped her hard near her left eye and she got a sudden darkness due to swelling. She could not see from her left eye. Varesh came forward to disesteem the girl, executing his wickedness.
She bent down on her knee helpless, frightened and her regular crying made herself disturbed. She started laughing and crying with a sudden jerk. The torture had raided her mind. Varesh took his hand over her waist to expose her body publicly. She had stopped crying. Her face was marked with dried tears, making pink line down to her neck. She was insensate. Varesh laid upon her and of sudden heard a thundering warning.
‘Beware! Leave the girl unharmed’
Varesh swayed back. He identified the man who was working as carpenter for him. He stared Saras and noticed the bow and quiver. ‘You had a bow. Will you punish me?’ said Varesh tilting his head and smiling malevolently.
‘Leave the girl unharmed,’ repeated Saras. ‘And I will try to forgive you and your men.’
Varesh roared, ‘You will forgive me. You don’t know who am I? I am Varesh. The controller of this city and these all are my slaves. Even you, Stranger. Get down on your knee or else die.’
