Throne of Purvakhand

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Throne of Purvakhand Page 15

by ASHUTOSH RAI


  (In Palace of Abhiyudh, Kallirathya……)

  Everyone were amazed with happiness as Elcleis entered the royal palace but when they saw the condition of Nandkant. The smile on their face faded into darkness of sorrows. Abhiyudh called out Vallabh. ‘Borders the doctor. Arrange every requirements for treatment of Nandkant.’

  ‘I heard you are now a more classical wizard,’ said Abhiyudh as they embraced each other.

  ‘Yes, I am,’ answered Elcleis as he detangled himself. ‘Nandkant will recover soon.’

  ‘So you can save his life by your magic.’

  Elcleis drew his face down and said, ‘Vanara King, by using the power of magic a wizard too loses his magic for a small extent but you should not worry. I failed to recover him totally because his brain has stopped working. He is totally muted. I had spelled the mantras on him and he may recover soon if he is cared seriously. The gaps will be filed with flesh. I hope about a month bed rest because magic cannot heal him overall. Magic too needs a support. Support of the soul. It can only increase your immunity so you can be healed quickly.’

  Elcleis fell into silence as his eyes turned to Kumud. He had never seen such eyes of calmness. He smiled and continued his talk. ‘I can join the riddled gaps and broken bones but they get strengthen and freshness only by nature. Soon you will see that this every wounds will be filled up within two days. His condition is more pity than I thought. His health is good even after being worst. His nerves are disturbed. I can help the doctors in curing them. He is mentally depressed which is causing hazardous to his health. He needs an immunity which only the nature can give him. Magic can remove your disease, it cure the broken bones and can help you in physical immunity but it can’t improve your mental health. Only nature can make you healthy in every manner. After all magic is the finest version of science and science too is one of the finest creation of knowledge by nature which helps us to continue our life with a deserving adventure. So we can wait. Only a good care can cure you well.’ Elcleis ended his talk with a gentle finishing. ‘I hope you all understood what I was trying to say. We can only wait for him to awake.’

  His words were a bouncer to everyone. They all together nodded their head unlike the reaction Elcleis was hoping. He was confirmed that they understood nothing of his long talk.

  Ranjit, son of Abhiyudh has just entered the royal hall and overheard the words of Elcleis. His cloths were dirty with stains of chemicals and hair was filled with blue and crown powders, entangled and hard. He asked Elcleis, ‘Are you a doctor?’

  Elcleis swayed to see the source of the sound and gazed the young Vanara prince for a while. ‘No. I was a Satyarathi earlier and but now I am one of Three Wise Wizards.’

  ‘Who are other two…?’ asked Ranjit.

  ‘Lord Aarab and Lord Ashmak. One meets the needy indeed if help is needed and other is in prison of Carmuel.’ Elcleis stared into Ranjit eyes. ‘I think you are very keen to know about wizard and magic. Am I wrong, young scientist? Any more question to ask, dear Prince of Kapikshetra.’

  Ranjit was little less to stare in the wizards’ eye. He heaved his head and exclaimed, ‘We met for the first time and you identified my profession. It’s really a wonderful experience. Fast old eyes and sharp mind.’ With hesitation he said, ‘Can I ask something if you don’t mind?’

  Elcleis nodded.

  ‘What would be your age?’ asked Ranjit flatly.

  ‘I would like to welcome your questions. It is one hundred, three years and seven months, eighteen days, two prahar passed with three hours one muhurat, a half ghati with more than twenty lipta had passed while talking with you here,’ Elcleis said and smiled.

  This was bouncer to Ranjit. ‘Are you really a human or you are a machine? So frequent. So fast.’ said a wondered Ranjit. He stared Elcleis with unflinchingly. Elcleis clearing don’t look to be of about hundred. He skin was fairer then people of eighty and In Kapikshetra there was no one who had crossed eighty.

  Elcleis sniffed his as Ranjit stared at his face. Elcleis stared back in the Vanara’s eyes stoically and guffawed alone for a while and other gazed him silently without any reaction. Then the wizard asked to Ranjit, ‘Do you bath today?’

  Ranjit silently gazed at Elcleis. For him this was a question, he should not to be asked. He was sure that everyone will laugh at his answer. In a low tune, he replied, ‘No, but soon I will.’

  ‘Then hurry up,’ said Elcleis softly. ‘If you did not go to bath surely your hairs will fell out of sorts.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  Abhiyudh came forward and said, ‘My dear scientist. You came out from your lab after a month.’

  Elcleis coming in between them and their talk, suggested Ranjit, ‘I think you are wasting time. You smell is disturbing everyone and the germs will surely disturb you if you will not visit the river to bath in next hour.’

  Ranjit didn’t showed any disapproval. It had been an hour past to the sunset. The palace, the market, the roads and the wall of the fort were in light of lamps and the riverside was now not a safe place. Wild dogs were on their hunt, searching for any dead body or a live if he was alone. Ranjit nodded and walked off the palace, for river Shukanya drawing a sword from weaponry.

  ‘Now everyone can relax.’ said Elcleis. ‘I have a gift for you, which you like to hunt.’

  ‘And what is that?’ asked Abhiyudh with a sign of uncertainty wrinkling on his forehead that he shared with Dravid and Mahmud who were standing into a silence by now.

  Elcleis clapped thrice staring towards the door of the room. Chatuskara bent his body low and entered the assembly hall. Everyone raised their head to see the giant who was in his normal by then. For the first time Avneish had thought that there is a man in world whom he can’t defeat by brawn. Abhiyudh, Dravid and Mahmud too looked little scared as they saw the heavy four armed man. Mahmud muttered, ‘He can part anyone by his four arms.’

  ‘He is Chatuskara,’ said Elcleis in his bold voice. ‘He can increase his body if his wrath is awaken.’ Chatuskara smiled in return. He drew the pouch from his waistband and dropped it onto ground. Avneish shook his head as he gazed the pouch as it turned into the jute bag. For the first time he saw a magic that was not vicious. A long silence broke into room as a sound of buzzing heard from the bag. Avneish frowned staring the bag, the four armed man and the wizard.

  Dravid spoke out after a long silence, ‘Elcleis, What is this.’ Dravid recognised the jute bag. ‘It seem that you made any man captive. Who is the man in this bag?’

  ‘He is a Bastard. A devil whom we say Rubbak, expert in converting his whole body into innumerous insects,’ said Elcleis as he walked to Abhiyudh. ‘I want you to send him in prison but you should not open this bag as then he will be free and dangerous.’ Abhiyudh ordered Vallabh to do the same and Rubbak was a prisoner now crying to be free.

  ‘Why don’t you kill him?’ said Mahmud staring the jute bag as Vallabh took it in his charge.

  ‘You now well!’ answered Elcleis and the four Satyarathi giggled staring each other with affability marked on their faces. Avneish frowned, gazing them silently.

  ‘You are back, defeated again,’ spluttered Sharak. His heart breathing fiercely. His lips were pressed between his teeth and beads of sweat washing his face.

  ‘No, my emperor. He will die. No magic, no herb can treat him,’ said Saile meekly as she crawled to him. ‘We are killing them slowly and efficiently terrifying their souls.’

  ‘Do you see those walls, Saile?’ grumbled Sharak staring her angrily. He yanked her head back on throne. ‘They had portrait of my fore fathers, proud and filled with valiant. I may not have my one.’ His voice trembled with every word, ‘The Lord is already angry and even the Ostracized Human Legend. The boy has reached to Uttarmathons. My heart is breathing fear.’

  ‘My Lord,’ whispered Saile like as a lover. She seized his legs. ‘I can feel the terror but my lord, we together can finish them like we finished other Satyarathis.’ She ran her finger
s to his thigh and then to his chest. ‘I have an idea. The Mrityusad.’

  Sharak frowned on the name. The darkness of the room was still threatening his soul. Saile heaved as she touched his shoulder and sat onto his lap. ‘You are my lord. I can do this. I can summon them. I am sure that they will helps us. They are too immortal, made of sand and are about hundred in number. Having them as our puppet will give us advantage.’

  ‘But what if Lord Jakrant will know?’ Sharak stared into her eyes.

  ‘I too had a plan for that. The Mrityusad too can wield the Virum. They will end Jakrant and Saraswatichandra and every that man who will be against us. And then I will seize Lord Jakrant’s power and give it to you and after you it will of our son Vyajmant. If you order he can call Tulchar, the leader of Sand Dwellers, the Mrityusad.’

  Saile gazed him in a worshipful manner. Sharak smiled and clasped her neck. She sizzled with pain as Sharak yanked her head.

  Dhwajkant had never liked the cloudy sky that covers the land of Chandier. At least, from twenty three years. He was born on golden hill that beyond the great range of Uttarmathons in north of the continent. He remembered the days when use to cover the Ananthiya hills on his foot along with his grandmother. The beautiful days when he roamed in streets of the great capital of Virnagre. Angabhumi had been always his favourite place to visit, though now it was nothing but a ruin. He always use to remember those days when he and his friend Prayndiel set race to the great tower and scream from it so loud that it forced the birds hiding in their nest between the trees to flew. The time when great god and revered saints, brave kings were worshiped there and valiant warriors use to roar in battle and get honour that they deserve. People had many opportunities to grab in many sectors. Conditions had not been as worst as today.

  The tensed air hurled into his ears as he walked through the corridor and darted down the black stairs of the castle reserved to him. As his eyes moved up to the stormy sky, once again he realised that Virnagre was fallen before his eyes. He cursed himself for being failed that time. And now even at his will, he cannot do anything except killing people and looting temples on Sharak’s order. His loyalty has changed because Jakrant had given him a second life. He stopped himself against an ancient guava tree that was hedged by big boulders. He allowed himself to breath a few fresh air in the contaminated atmosphere of Chandier.

  ‘Dhwajkant.’ A voice as cold as frost steel entered into his ear. He lifted his head to look the source of voice. He rose to his feet suddenly and opened his arms wide. ‘Prayndiel.’

  The two friends caught each other firmly in their clasp. Both yelled together, ‘After a long time.’

  Dhwajkant glanced his friend’s face. It had gone whiter than ice. His eyes had lost its brown pupil and turned into a white stone.

  ‘It is always good to see a living human as my friend,’ said Prayndiel drawing a wide smile at his face. He amused, ‘Can I bite you.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Prayndiel tilting his head. Prayndiel broke into a more wider and long smile as Dhwajkant completed, ‘It had been two years.’

  ‘Yes,’ sighed Prayndiel. ‘Two year and twenty lakh dead bodies. Well I got a news. Quite interesting.’

  Dhwajkant nodded simply.

  ‘Your vermin emperor is taking tension. He is curious,’ said Prayndiel.

  ‘He is afraid that he had been more vulnerable,’ gasped Dhwajkant.

  ‘The fall is near. You can check it in air,’ said Prayndiel grimly as he patted his friend’s shoulder.

  ‘Yes, the wind is changed. I am afraid,’ admitted Dhwajkant. ‘It all started from Gorkhein.’

  ‘I am sorry, Dhwaj. I heard what happened with your parents.’

  ‘You should not be sorry for the dead, neither for the dying.’ Dhwajkant answered crisply.

  ‘Don’t be afraid my friend,’ said Prayndiel staring his friend who had a lot of remorse in his eyes. ‘The plan is almost set. Soon Lord Jakrant will get his body and soul and even the ostracised legends will recover from their curse. The fall is coming.’

  Dhwajkant nodded as he felt the complete white eyes of THE-CURSED-BLOOD watching him.

  ‘I hope to take an hour of rest in your castle. If you don’t mind,’ said Prayndiel with a grin.

  ‘Let’s have a cup of tea and I will make it,’ said Dhwajkant smiling.

  ‘Of course, my friend,’ agreed Prayndiel.

  It was the second day that passed with same vicious howling of wind that had travelled through the unexceptional market two days before, when Saras had started his climbing. He had covered a distance of nine yojana from the ancient temple of Karil. The road that appeared like staircase because of the grooves on ice had smoked its coldness to enter into his bones. He could hear the creaking of his own knee as his legs were slowly retreating to any further movements. With every step up for Karil, his muscles contracted to the cold and his lung betrayed him. A critical temperature which he never faced before, full of fog and deadly clouds around. The lack of oxygen forced his eyes to doze and threw him down. He even not the power to winch or scream. His lips were sealed and his ears were inaudible.

  It has been eight hours since his fall, an old man was sitting on a stool nearby head. Rubbing his eyes and relaxing the tensed shoulders, he pressed the bed and cuddled his back against the wall. He shook his head staring himself assiduously. There were no mark of any wound on his body. He was tired and shocked. He turned his head and found the old man.

  ‘What the hell it is?’ asked a startled Saras. ‘How can this be? Where am I?’ In the light of eighteen fire troches that hung to the ceiling, Saras saw something which irritated him with small flow of fear in heart. The eyes of the old man were not like a common man. It neither seemed pierced or festered but appeared like a fire concealed in a certain area and its pupil covered with a spider web. The height of the old man and the room were questionable. They were giant even for man like Chatuskara. The old man was more than double in height to him and the room was triple to the ordinary rooms he had seen in his village and cities. Even the bed he slept was too long for him. He stared the marks etched on the paved bricks of room and the amulet Aarab had worn. Both were having the same symbol. The symbol of Ashtputras. This was unexpectedly scary and the old man read this on his face.

  The old man laughed crisply. ‘Don’t go on my eyes and size. This room was made when Lord Vir use to do penance here in his last days. The symbol which you are seeing here belongs to Lord Vir. A guarantee to the human Lordship. Lord Vir was the first Human Lord and this is a temple of Lord Shiva, the god of gods, the creator of creators, the preserver of preservers and the destroyer of destroyers. And my size is not so big that you should feel scared. Be relaxed. With time humans, their works, liberty and dignity decreased with their size. People of your height are equal to size of dwarfs of my age. I can see you clearly. Rudra, you will be surprised that it has been nearly fourteen manvantara past since I had seen you in that Great War. Since the last day of the first Satyayug I awaited to meet you.’

  The word of the old man struck Saras’ ears with sudden force with an unknown reason, creates an energy in the nerves of Saras and He felt those strange energy. He started feeling well as he could stand and open his eyes wide.

  ‘What is reason of this energy that I am feeling? Since first Satyayug? I can’t understand anything. Who are you, old man? And why you are calling me Rudra? I am Saras’, asked Saras rapidly and sincerely looking his own body.

  ‘You are Rudravir. Saras may be your new name. May be the name you got in your this birth. I think Gita must told you about the prophecy. You gave me apples to eat. You forgot but remember one day one such apple will save you from a great loss for one time,’ complained the old man, giving a satisfactory smile on his face.

  ‘You don’t look like that man. His body was decaying,’ said Saras defiantly. ‘You look stronger. Actually your skin is still young and your hair had just gone whiter like ice.’ This was the time that he noticed that A
arab’s complete body was chiselled as frost unlike any other human. His eyes didn’t blinked for a while as they concentrated on Aarab’s look for a second time. It was not just the body but even the robes that he had on his body appeared to be made of single element: ice. White and fumed like ice-rock.

  ‘That was a test, Rudravir,’ said the old man softly.

  ‘But I am not Rudravir,’ muttered an agitated Saras. ‘I am not great and legendary like him. You can call me Saras. And don’t think of those apples as then you were in great need of them. Sharing is the best habit.’ Saras stared the old man intently and turned to look outside of the square window that was crossed by two bamboo sticks. He stalked back near the bed as the height of Karil thrilled him abruptly. ‘How you got me. I have fallen down from height two yojana. Even after falling from such a height. I am alive and my body is feeling a kind of new energy. I can’t see even any mark of wound after the fall.’

 

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