Deathsworn: Siddhi Chronicles Book 1

by H. K Oby

  His almost unintelligible shout was followed by cheers, but not too many of them. Not many could overcome the pervasive human habit of not wanting someone else to skip hardships that they had had to endure to get something.

  Shanker’s heart hammered in his chest. Exulting in the exhilarating rush that always accompanied moments like these where everything he expected was smashed apart, Shanker grinned.

  I was wrong. But I’m happy that I was so off the mark. That kid made the plan; everything hinged on him, and he was the one the other two were looking to whenever doubtful. He will go far. Is that why you’re here, Sage Narada? If so, I hope you saw what you hoped to. I don’t know about you, but I’m one happy spectator. Now, I just have to take what he has and mold it properly. Maybe he can perfect the basics, and then I’ll use my special course. Oh, that’s going to be fun. I can almost hear the screams already…

  CHAPTER TEN

  LYING AWAKE IN the infirmary with the nurse fussing over him, Amin couldn’t suppress the grin that was still on his face.

  He and Rishi had carried Amaira between them to the infirmary, grinning all the way. He had been hurt, too, as a little of Amaira had crashed into him as well, but it had been minor compared to her injuries. Still, after giving her a sleeping tonic that was already ready, the nurse had insisted on him lying down for a checkup.

  It was easy to ignore her grumblings under her breath. They had finally done it. It felt as if he was dreaming, even though the wounds all over his body that still throbbed said otherwise.

  Obliging the nurse’s order to strip while she went to make an ointment, he found himself thinking back on everything that had led to this moment.

  A week had passed quickly, each day making him more and more anxious when it ended with no sign of either of his companions’ siddhis awakening. He knew that they were hard at work; whenever they had a moment of free time, he saw them closing their eyes and concentrating, going through the steps the first elder had laid out. On his part, everything was ready. He had identified a few targets in the sparring ground they might go up against and created 20 plans, but all of them were useless if they didn’t have an ace up their sleeve.

  He had also spent most of his time examining the siddhis of the others and trying to put aside the jealousy he still felt every time he saw someone perform a superhuman feat. His heart had almost jumped out of his chest when he first saw someone becoming a giant. One moment, they had stood only five and a half feet tall, and in the next, they were three times that size, swinging a fist almost as big as their opponent. Amin had stood where he was in a daze while that punch descended, changing all of his plans while wishing that Rishi and Amaira could somehow be just as competent as this woman who he had heard had arrived three months ago.

  When they were not at the sparring ground, the children made sure to remind them of how important it was to beat someone in the upcoming competition. They were told by the goatee-twiddling Master of Novices to obey the children no matter what they said, so Amin had had to give piggyback rides at least 10 times until he took a chance, told one of the children he was tired and was sent to the infirmary again with a bruised stomach courtesy of the hand of the Master that had finally left that goatee.

  The man was as quick as the giant, or even quicker, and that had left Amin with the decision that there was no way he could estimate anyone’s strength by the way they looked.

  On the eighth day, Amaira had succeeded.

  The way it happened was absurd. She was being instructed by a girl with pigtails. Amin had noticed that this girl loved tormenting Amaira, setting extremely high expectations and punishing her by demanding that she also wear pigtails if she didn’t remember even a single form correctly.

  Amaira looked like she had had enough of it. When ordered to untie her bun and begin pleating her hair for the umpteenth time, she had growled like a lion ready to pounce. With the most innocent expression, the little girl had said, “Oh, do you want to fight me? Sorry, but of my own accord, I can only choose those who are at least three times bigger than me to be my opponents. I am the best novice, you see, so I’ve been ordered not to fight little girls like you. Now, come on. Tomorrow I’ll also get one of my skirts. You can be me, and I’ll play my mother. It’ll be fun!”

  Her growl had grown louder with each word, and Amin had even taken a step toward her, intending to step in before she did something she would regret.

  Abruptly, she had grown to double her size. Leaping forward but tripping as she wasn’t used to having such long legs, she had fallen on the little girl, crushing her underneath all her weight.

  That was when a seed of the plan they had finalized had occurred to him, taking form and root.

  She was back to her normal size in a few seconds, and when she got up, she had forgotten the little girl and had stared at her hands incredulously.

  The little girl had complained to the Master of Novices, but the man had just twirled his goatee and sent Amaira to the first elder.

  Amin had found himself vacillating between feeling happy for her and cursing the gods again for not granting him the ability to do something similar. When she returned, she was beaming, and by then, Amin had managed to control himself enough to congratulate her warmly.

  Rishi had succeeded the next day, half the reason being— according to him— the pressure he had placed on himself as they were both waiting on him; they hadn’t said a word about it, but Rishi had reached his conclusions, and Amin had convinced Amaira that it might be better not to persuade him otherwise.

  His moment of awakening was far more direct. They had been paired up against a stronger team than usual that day, and he had been selected by a 5-foot short teen to be bullied. While Amin and Amaira barely kept up with their own opponents, Rishi was punched until all of his skin they could see was filled with dark red blotches. His hair was then pulled by the little sadist, and next, it looked like the guy was targeting his crotch. Amin had no idea why Shanker was not interfering; typically, the giant stepped in before things went too far.

  Changing his mind, the little bully had ripped open Rishi’s shirt, exposing a body with not an ounce of fat and very little muscle. Cackling with glee, the short guy engaged in a game of coming close, plucking a hair on Rishi’s chest and then dancing out of reach of each and every one of Rishi’s attacks, using his siddhi of speed.

  Rishi’s screams had grown louder each time it happened, and finally, he snapped.

  With a shout and a furious set to his face that Amin had never seen before, Rishi punched upwards when the shorty’s hand darted forward for another hair follicle. His hand moved so fast it blurred, and when it hit its target, a sickening ‘crunch’ was heard all around, turning many gazes in his direction.

  The short bully screamed. The spar was stopped, and Rishi, his eyes unfocused while he cradled the hand he had used to break his opponent's jaw as if it was a precious weapon, was sent to the first elder.

  In his case, envy really was the only thing that Amin felt.

  Either way, they had been ready. They had skipped the sparring ground the next day, having found out some time before that everyone was allowed two days of rest whenever they wanted in a month. The entire day was spent practicing the plan Amin had finalized which revolved around a single opportunity he would create, and to his joy, the rest was history.

  Beaming again and reliving their moment of victory, Amin gulped down the foul mixture the nurse gave him after applying her ointment. Sleep hit him like a hammer in a second, and even after he went under, the smile remained on his face.

  ………………

  When he woke up and got out of bed, his bruises already fading on his skin as if they were weeks old, the world, itself, felt different.

  He felt free, as if there was a pressure that had been weighing down on him all these days that had suddenly been removed. He felt calm, calmer than he had ever had the chance to feel since finding out that he would have to compete in trials against
others with literal superpowers. He felt content, content that his plan had worked and let them achieve exactly what he wanted, and now, he could do what he wished.

  Waking up because of the sound he made, the other two also smiled, seeing the grin on his face. They didn’t talk for an entire minute; they just basked in their newfound freedom, almost unable to believe that life had changed so much in just a single day.

  Then, Amaira walked up to him and hugged him, saying, “I was right to trust what my heart said before. You are amazing. Who cares if you don’t have a siddhi? You are an incredible warrior in my eyes. This would never have happened without you. Thank you.”

  Wide-eyed, he could only stare at her, at a loss of words for once. The way she felt against him had sent the blood in his veins tingling, his heart throbbing with an emotion he could hardly understand or describe. He barely managed to nod in reply, a blush creeping into his cheeks, and as she stepped back, Amaira took in his reaction and smiled coyly, her eyes narrowing with thought.

  Knowing her, he could tell that he might be in for a prank soon.

  Rishi walked up, next, and he had to cough twice to get Amin’s attention. When he managed to do so, he clasped Amin’s hand, first, then made a noncommittal sound and actually hugged him, too.

  Amaira’s hug had felt as if it ended too soon, but Rishi’s went on for way too long, even though it was shorter than her’s. When he stepped back, the rich kid was beaming.

  “Forget everything I said before. I was right, too. You are a friend worth having. I forgive you for everything that happened the first time we met. Or… we can forget about it. We are friends now, and our team shall rise through the rankings, beating foe after foe. You are the brains, and we will be the brawn. Well done, all of us!”

  That last part stung, and he had raised his eyebrows when Rishi mentioned forgiveness, causing the guy to backtrack and look to the side fearfully. The three of them hugged together, then, Amaira giggling happily and even jumping twice. A second later, they even obliged her, her exultation spreading to them as they, too, jumped in place, like little children who had been given a day off from school.

  “If you think it’s all going to be smooth sailing from here, I can’t tell you how wrong you are. This was just the first step; it was an admirable first step, but still, there is a lot more to do. If you think you can slack off now that you won’t be supervised, think again. If I were you, I would work even harder. The trials will be unforgiving; fail, and you will be cast into death. If you need anything, you know where to find me.“

  The supervisor’s deep voice interrupted them. They whirled around, Amin feeling chagrined that he had let down his guard enough for the man to sneak up on them. Giving his advice, the vanara left, like an elder in some story who only existed to tell them things.

  Is this guy actually trying to get that reputation for himself? That’s what it feels like.

  They looked at each other for a second, thoroughly weirded out by the encounter, but then, with a shrug, they walked out the hud together.

  “So what now?”

  Amin honestly didn’t know. They had bonded during the entire experience of pushing to awaken siddhis while sharing their failures with each other, training to make sure their plan worked, and finally, even during the fight itself, and all that had culminated in those moments just now. He knew that the others felt a true kinship with him, now.

  But he had no idea what he, himself, felt.

  On the inside, he seethed with doubts.

  What is this warm, fuzzy feeling when I look at either of them? I love the way Amaira is fiery, and the way Rishi has some sort of underlying courage that surfaces at the oddest of times. They seem to truly trust me, but how far will their friendship go? I still can’t believe that won’t abandon me as soon as someone stronger comes along. I’ve never before felt the need to let myself have any true relationship, but even my emotions are being tugged, I shouldn’t give in. Even my own mother tried to kill me. For me, such relationships cannot exist. No, they do not exist! I’ll act as if I’m really close with them, too, but I’ll be ready to sacrifice them to further myself if needed, just like they will if they get the chance.

  “Why do you look so down, Amin? Don’t worry; in fact, let’s go to the library now itself and find out how you can get a siddhi! What do you say?”

  He hadn’t even known that his eyes had been downcast, his face drooping as if his head was filled with melancholy thoughts. Attributing it to the recollection of his mother, he picked himself up, thinking about how finally he could find out just what he could do to embark on the path of power.

  Just as he was about to reply, though, his stomach grumbled loudly. It was so low that even the others heard it, and as soon as they did, they laughed.

  “To the cafeteria, first, and then onto the library.”

  The journey was filled with smiles and joyful reminiscing of how everyone had looked when they won. As soon as they reached the large building, they all looked up to check the time.

  Amin had gotten the hang of it in just two days. It was just a matter of taking a frame of reference and comparing it to where the sun was in the sky. His frame was an imaginary vertical line drawn above his own head, and he had ended up being more accurate than the others on many occasions.

  It was almost 2 o’clock, the sun beating down on them from that golden streaked sky that he was still not used to. Meeting the other's eyes and seeing that they, too, were bracing themselves for whatever was waiting inside, Amin let out a breath and opened the door, deciding to pull the band-aid off quickly.

  We won, but the others must be angry at us, or at least unhappy that we were faster than most. I did hear a few cheers, but those guys must just have been caught up in the moment.

  The moment they walked in, a round of applause began, started by a stout man with a half-grown beard sitting near the door. Amin sighed and looked around, expecting fully to see the same mocking expressions as before, but to his genuine surprise, all of those standing up and applauding them had easy smiles and twinkling eyes.

  Only a few of the people who had mocked them before were standing, now, so the applause was quieter, but to him, it felt far louder. The smile returning to his face, he looked at the others and took in their startled expressions before catching Amaira’s hand and whispering that they should bow.

  They did so together, and most of those clapping nodded and sat down, going back to their food. For the first time in his life, Amin realized that he was experiencing the joy of accomplishing something and being recognized for that accomplishment.

  His joy was trampled immediately when they sat down and a team of four came up to them, congratulating just Amaira and Rishi while ignoring him completely.

  He could understand where they were coming from. To the others, it must just have looked as if the ones with the siddhis were the actual leaders of the group, while he was chosen just to be a sacrificial lamb who would attract the attention of the enemy team while the other two pounced. At first, Amaira and Rishi both enjoyed the compliments, but when they saw the grimace on his face, they hastily tried to explain that they had only gone along with his plan.

  As expected, the team didn’t believe them. Derisively laughing as if convinced that the two were just saying so to be polite, they left and were replaced by four other teams who reacted in almost the same manner.

  At one point, Amin began ignoring them, eating his food as if it had done him a great injustice. The other two were busy talking to the teams who came over, so he finished first and stomped out.

  He took deep breaths when he was outside, trying to calm down his mind and heart. He started to pace near the door, telling himself that it didn’t matter that only the other two were being congratulated, but it was hard to reason with the anger in his mind that wouldn’t leave.

  A melodious voice made him pause and snap his head in its direction.

  “It is always hard working hard for something, then being
shoved aside when its time to enjoy the glory of success. Even kings and queens have gone to ruin when they had to choose between not being angry that they were not given credit, or letting it go because they valued the friendship with the others who had worked with them more. Many times, the emotions you are feeling lead to decades of thriving relationships being ruined. I’m not giving you any advice; the Lord knows it won’t matter if I do, anyway. I’m just telling you what has happened before, letting you make your own conclusions. I came here to congratulate you, but I couldn’t stop myself after seeing the emotions plainly visible on your face…”

  Narad stood in the middle of the road, a few feet from the mess hall. His spotless dhoti looked as if it had just been ironed, and his skin glowed as if there was a miniature sun inside him.

  Amin hadn’t really noticed these things before, caught up as he had been in his own fate. These details now jumped out to him, making him recall what Amaira had said about who this man was, and for a second, he wondered whether he should show some form of respect.

  As if reading his mind, Narad shook his head and said, “I see that someone has told you who I am, but please, feel no compulsion to display fake respect. It is the worst sort. Even if someday, you do feel the type that is genuine, I only ask that you show it to me by speaking truthfully. I must not be seen here, or the others will think you’re being favored. I did want to give you some help, though. What you have achieved so far deserves a reward. There is another hardship you will have to go through, first, about which you will soon know. But after that, inside the library, look for an old vanara. Tell him about your predicament; he will advise you on the best way forward, and even tell you how you can aim to pass the trials. Vanaras are beings of pure hearts. They can make the best of friends and the worst of enemies. I know you’ve had a bad experience with them, but not all vanaras are alike. You have the potential to be one of the very best Deathsworn. I hope it shall not be wasted. For now, farewell.”