Tantrics Of Old

by Bhattacharya, Krishnarjun

  Adri picked up a small white petal and observed it in the moonlight.

  ‘Okay, he’s a flowerboy. I saw this back near the foothills where it had eaten the herd of cows,’ he said.

  ‘Just have to find the flowers, then,’ Trish said, looking around.

  It took them well into the night to track the area where the flowers grew. It was deep in the moor, across a long, dry landscape with huge rocks overlooking it, a dry valley of sorts. They could see bushes with the white flowers strewn across the valley, growing sparsely and mostly under hanging rocks.

  ‘He’ll be around here,’ Adri said softly, looking at the entire stretch of dead land. ‘Too many of these flowers here, he’ll be naturally attracted here if he has entered the moor.’

  ‘This place screams SETUP to me,’ Trish said. ‘Can you sense the Demon?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Adri said. ‘But I’m telling you, this one’s different. It’s hiding its magic somehow.’

  Maya looked at the duo standing in the moonlight before the eerie stretch in front, and she felt a chill go up her spine. This was not something she was used to. She knew she could not be seen or harmed in her current state, and yet she was afraid of the moor ahead of her.

  ‘Okay, so how do we do this?’ Adri asked.

  ‘I’ll go in, you cover me,’ Trish said.

  Adri pulled back the safety catch and nodded. Holding the rifle, he clambered off to a high rock without a second’s delay. Within the minute, he was sitting on the edge of the rock, legs hanging, rifle ready.

  ‘Try not to shoot me,’ Trish said softly, and started making her way down the slope, reaching the dry floor of the valley after a while. She did not look up even once to check on Adri. In all probability, the Demon’s eyes were on her now.

  Maya did not know where to be; she felt scared of going down to the patch with Trish despite herself. She decided to follow her from above, walking alongside her and watching everything.

  There were too many hanging rocks that cast shadows along Trish’s path. She conjured fireballs and started throwing them under the rocks as she went, giving each place a brief glance before moving on. Maya glanced at Adri and saw that he was in a direct line of sight. Trish walked on, lighting shadows up.

  Things happened. Fast. One of the rocks moved, suddenly, unforming itself into a living thing, and lunged at Trish with a huge arm. Trish jumped back and threw her arms forward—electricity leapt from her gauntlets, crackling and fizzling and lighting up the darkness. The Demon, unperturbed by the electricity, continued moving forward towards Trish with speed. She rolled away just as a huge hand made of stone came crashing down with a sound like thunder, raising dust. Maya looked at Adri to see what he was doing—the Tantric was changing bullets and reloading the rifle slowly, a cigarette in his mouth.

  She stared back at the fight and saw Trish throwing fireballs at the Demon, and for the first time she could see it well. It was a nightmarish thing, and the loud cries that emanated from it were the same. It was a Hush, a Demon born of stone. She had read about them—they came in many shapes and sizes and for the first time she could see one; it looked like a bunch of stones put together to form something remotely humanoid. It was much larger than Trish, about fifteen feet in height, though it stayed hunched. Maya could not make out its eyes, though she well understood that the large gash on the face was actually the mouth. It had long, extended arms and legs, and several long rock fingers at the end of each arm. It even had a tail of linked stone that beat around angrily as it tried to catch Trish. The Demon wasn’t slow by any means, but Trish was always faster as she dodged and tried different fire and electricity spells to bring the Demon down. Nothing seemed to stop it, but only infuriated it further. Its cries echoed down the entire moor as it fought the Sorceress.

  Trish hit it with a blue wave of what Maya assumed was raw sound. It knocked the Demon back for a second. Frustrated, she took a second to look up at Adri—a second which the Demon borrowed to hit Trish with a solid hand of stone. The blow was a horizontal swing, and Trish went flying into a nearby boulder like a rag doll. Maya yelled in shock, and Adri fired. The gunshot was still echoing seconds later; the Demon stood at full height, looking around, confused. Then it collapsed to the ground, raising a lot of dust and making the very earth shake under Maya’s feet.

  Adri slung the rifle back over his shoulder and made his way down to the stretch, still smoking the cigarette. He silently walked to where Trish lay, and this time, Maya followed him. She hoped Trish was okay. When Adri reached Trish, he checked her pulse first. Then he sighed with what Maya hoped was relief, and walked over to the Demon and inspected it closely. Adri swept aside the white flowers that were on its rocky body, clamped in mud, he swept away the grass and the dust—he seemed to be looking for something. He found it after a bit of searching; it was a ring as large as a human bracelet on one of its fingers. A ring with runes inscribed on it. Maya could understand nothing, except for the shape of a moon among the runes.

  Adri unslung his rifle and turned around. He began to laugh. ‘All right, just who are you fooling? This is pathetic,’ he said. The laugh was not genuine. It was under pressure, maybe even a little nervous. For a shocked second Maya thought he was addressing her, but no, he was looking elsewhere and all around. There was no reply, only the silence of the moor.

  ‘The Hush liked flowers,’ Adri said. ‘It was a simple being, not capable of hiding beyond its natural ability to pose as a rock. It would not wear an artefact of the moon to hide its magical vibes. You must be following me, you must be here. Show yourself!’

  There was nothing for a while, and Maya did not expect a reply to come. But it did, and it was a mere whisper in the wind.

  ‘That was a damn good shot, Adri Sen.’

  Adri lifted the rifle to his eye, peering all over the horizon, seeing nothing.

  ‘Who are you?’ he shouted, without lowering his weapon.

  ‘Lose the rifle, Adri,’ another voice whispered. ‘We are unarmed, and will not harm you.’

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t be scared of this weapon if you mean me no harm, isn’t it?’ Adri shouted.

  ‘We will reveal ourselves in good faith,’ yet another voice spoke.

  Adri said nothing. And then suddenly, the first figure appeared out of nowhere. Then another. Then another. They kept appearing around Adri, at varying distances; and after the fifth one appeared, Adri lowered his weapon. He was outgunned anyway. When they finished, there were twelve of them around Adri.

  Adri looked at them. They were just silhouettes, dark and shadowy, with a hint of a flicker, a slight tremble to them. Their shapes indicated there were both men and women, but Adri could see nothing but black in them. When they spoke, it was still in the same whisper.

  ‘We planted the artefact on the Demon, Adri. We wanted it to catch MYTH’s eye. We wanted you to be sent here.’

  ‘Why?’ Adri asked, as Maya listened, spellbound.

  ‘Because we could not possibly tell you what we are here to tell you back in the Old City, in the halls of the government. No, we had to draw you away from MYTH. For what you are about to know is not for the ears of everyone.’

  ‘But who are you? And how do you know me?’

  ‘You may have heard of us in stories and legends, Adri. We are called the Eclipse Guard.’

  ‘The Eclipse Guard? The Soul Hunters who went missing from the banks of the Ganga?’ Adri asked in amazement.

  ‘Yes, though the truth in those stories is only a grain’s worth. We know you because you were a friend to us, Adri.’

  ‘A friend—to you?’

  ‘We understand your confusion, so let us elaborate. You see, there are many secrets this world has to keep—many secrets that have been kept secrets to stop myriad machinations that would break the foundation of what these secrets stand for in the first place. Hence secret societies, hence secret text. You are, unknowingly, a part of what is a well-kept secret, Adri Sen. And now you are of age, and y
ou will know what you are to know.’

  Adri slung the rifle back over his shoulder and lit another cigarette. He looked up to find everyone quiet. ‘Oh, I’m listening,’ he said quickly, and they began talking again, nodding amongst themselves.

  ‘In every hundred spirits, one is allowed to return to this Plane and take birth once more, starting the circle of life once again,’ they whispered. ‘In every twenty billion spirits that are allowed to come back, one is allowed access to the memories of the past life he or she has led. It is a gift, and a unique one. We call those Raishth, the Reborn.’

  Adri stubbed out the cigarette with a stupefied expression. ‘That—would explain a lot,’ he muttered.

  ‘We are glad that it does.’

  ‘Who was I—in my past life?’ Adri asked.

  ‘That is something all of us have to find out for ourselves, Adri. It is not difficult. Ask the right questions and visit the right places, and you will know who you were. The few visions that you have had which you cannot explain are all from your deep past.’

  ‘I guessed as much right now. They were not just visions, then.’

  ‘They are memories, Adri. The power of your past shall always wait within you, waiting to be unleashed. You will always learn things much quicker and more intuitively if they are things you have already learnt well in your last life—and all the memories of your last life shall come flooding back to you as you live out this one. With each memory of the last life that you unlock, you will only grow stronger—and mentally, you will always be older, no matter what your current age resembles. The experience of an entire life lived out shall always back you up, and this past existence shall forever watch over you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Adri said. ‘This changes everything. It explains a lot of my doubts. I know I was a Tantric in my past life. Of that I am certain.’

  ‘We are under a code to neither agree nor disagree. Do not question who made us tell; it is our duty to inform every Reborn of what they are and what it means. It is a rare gift, Adri. Use it well.’

  ‘I will,’ Adri said, as the silhouettes began to fade away one by one. The moor was empty once again except for Adri, the unconscious Trish, and the dead Demon. And of course, Maya, who was now privy to one of Adri’s biggest and most well-kept secrets. This was what had always been amiss about Adri; this was why he had felt much older than he looked. It explained why he seemed to hide most of his power and abilities, and why he kept to himself so much. Maya had stopped feeling guilty about invading Adri’s memories a long time ago—there had been a time when, momentarily tired of following the Tantric everywhere, she had tried to walk away, only to realise she could not put much distance between Adri and herself. If she did, she would be transported back around him, where the memory was the strongest and most fresh. She was a prisoner in what seemed to be Adri’s mind. There were times when she had hated it and tried to escape again and again, times when she cried out loud and endlessly for days at a time for help. But at the end of the day she accepted her position and her curiosity about the young Tantric would return once more.

  Adri was now waking Trish up, and the world was beginning to blur. They were moving into another memory, and Maya was going along for the ride.

  ‘Maya’s condition is worsening again,’ Gray said. ‘She’s beginning to sweat like before.’

  ‘The Dreamer’s Brew is wearing off,’ Adri said. ‘We cannot use it on her any more. We need to find the Mask, and soon.’

  ‘The smoke,’ Fayne said, pointing. ‘That way.’

  They had exited the Ondhokaar a little while back, finding a small way out through a sewer system. The forest had ended long behind them and there was no sign of the Horseman, thankfully. They had, however, overshot, and were now in the outskirts of Howrah, well past their goal. Now they had to retrace their steps back into Howrah, and the Howrah Bridge, looming far in the distance, was the best beacon they could ask for.

  Adri now had charge of the Sadhu’s Shotgun. Gray had still been in possession of it when he had been carried off the courtyard of the Dark Goddess. Adri did not have too many shells for it, however, nor did he have his bullet alchemy case, or empty shells to make some more. Gray had also kept his violin slung across his back, and as a result it had also survived, annoying Adri immensely. Adri was depressed about losing both his shooters, especially considering all the work that had gone into making the excellent weapons, but he knew he could not brood over it for too long. He needed to figure out more ways of dealing with the enemies they would now meet, and more importantly, the Devil Mask.

  ‘Why can’t the Devil Mask be distracted?’ Gray asked, swatting mosquitoes as they walked.

  ‘It is a Necrotic. Its senses do not work the same way as ours.’ Adri replied. ‘To put it simply, its senses are focused all around it all the time, making it impossible to distract.’

  ‘That sounds like a tough enemy to fight.’

  ‘It does take an impossibly large number of warriors to bring one down.’

  ‘Then what is our plan?’

  ‘Like I told you earlier, I will discuss it when the time comes.’

  ‘Is there something you could do to take care of these bloodsuckers?’

  Funny, I used to refer to vampires with that title, the Wraith said.

  ‘Err, maybe a spirit could have done it, but I don’t have any ingredients with me. Can’t summon anything.’

  ‘Walk faster, you two,’ Fayne said, turning around. ‘We should reach Howrah before dark if we are to find the Devil Mask tonight.’

  ‘So we will find it by tonight? Excellent,’ Gray said.

  ‘Maya does not have much more time,’ Adri said seriously. ‘And that’s why the assassin thinks we should walk faster.’

  They walked faster, Fayne leading the way, and Maya, slung lifeless over his shoulder, was a grim reminder that stared at Adri, making him feel guiltier than ever. And the closer they got to the Devil Mask, the worse he felt. The assassin was responsible for protecting her, but he was responsible for reviving her, something both Gray and Fayne seemed to think him capable of accomplishing. So what if it had never been done before? It was possible theoretically, and if Kali had been correct, then the key to everything was distracting the creature. But how did one distract a controller of the dead?

  Devil Masks were not commonplace. The only purpose of a Devil Mask was to feed itself, to grow, and to make revenant, nothing else mattered to them, which explained why they weren’t on either side of the ongoing territory wars. They were deadly, much more so than the average Demon, and there had been absolutely no research done on them. Only whiffs of rumours, stories, and speculations. Adri had been hearing about them ever since his days in MYTH Castle, when all the young Tantrics, while discussing urban legends, would inevitably talk of the ritual used to summon a Devil Mask. There were also the stories of a wooden mask being found somewhere, and the Necrotic finding its first host through the mask. But no one knew for sure.

  Adri wasn’t sure about distracting the Mask. Old stories came back—the maiden who sang and distracted the Necrotic—but fairy tales would not help. Adri would see to it that the Mask was distracted. He had a plan, something untested. He was not losing Maya. Not after everything, not after running across the Old City, running from death. He had run enough. He needed to see her wake up.

  They kept on walking until they reached an area, which Adri guessed was Beniatola, near Sovabazar. They could see a Settlement a little ahead of them, but a lot of smoke was rising from within. They walked up to the main gates of the Settlement and saw the entrance destroyed and the Settlement beyond it partially on fire. They stood at the gates, watching the Settlement burn, until a sharp voice called out.

  ‘Hey!’

  They turned around and saw a figure waving at them from near a cluster of old buildings. Adri recognised the Sorceress’ robes from a distance, as well as the young woman wearing them.

  ‘Will she be a problem?’ Fayne asked gently a
s they approached her.

  ‘No, she shouldn’t be,’ Adri replied.

  As they neared her it was evident she had been in battle—her robes were dusty and torn, she sported a bandage around her forehead, apart from the usual bruises and cuts. The Sorceress was a good-looking woman with an unusual alertness to her eyes. She leaned against a broken lamp post, looking at them, her dark brown hair floating in the wind.

  ‘Damn, I thought it would be someone from the government,’ she said, as they walked up to her. ‘What are you doing here, Sen?’

  ‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Natasha?’ Adri said, trying to grin.

  ‘Certainly has,’ she said with the same stab at a smile. ‘It’s good to see my name wasn’t lost to your memory.’

  ‘No, I have a good one. We were just passing through.’

  ‘Why does that not sound right? Ever since you were banished you have been up to something, Sen. I heard rumours, though a lot of them will make you laugh.’

  ‘Rumours will happen. I have been happier since I was banished, but that’s another story. Who did this to you?’

  ‘Not a who, but a what. I was sent from the camp at the Lake of Fire to deal with a problem here. A Devil Mask. It took us by surprise, and I lost eleven Commandos and a Sorcerer in one night. That’s right, twelve!’ She looked into the distance angrily.

  ‘A Devil Mask? Here?’ Adri asked, his eyes wide. ‘Where is it right now?’

  ‘Mullikbazaar, the next Settlement. It has devoured every single person in the Settlement and is now busy making revenant, the bastard. I’m going to kill it personally, but I have no chance alone. I have sent a dragonfly to headquarters for reinforcements, and I mistook you for the advance guard.’

  ‘All right, best of luck with that. I think we best get going. We’re in a hurry of sorts.’

  Natasha raised an eyebrow. ‘You guys look like hell, why don’t you stick around for a bit? We have supplies here. Supplies for twelve men who’re no more, I daresay we won’t run short.’