The Last Rudra

The awakener guild or the spirit shrine of Minaak was in the northeast part. Surrounded by the holy soma trees, the nine-story tower was a sight to behold.

The only purpose of a spirit shrine was to awaken the spirit, so it didn't attract many visitors save for the Phalguna.

The twelfth month of the solar year, when the spirit manifested herself to accept her new children. A time that reminded mazians that awakeners were not so useless as they seemed.

As for the awakeners, titling them as spirit wielders wouldn't be wrong; however, many in Mazia wouldn't agree on it. Dwiza had no combat power, nor could they command spirit beasts or natural forces.

All they knew was to sense the spirit- paths and point them out to a spirit-wielder. Though, it seemed simply as taking a walk in a garden. But it wasn't. Only twice-born, who had escaped the caressing hands of white wives, could feel the innate path in 72000 nadis.

So, despite having no power, the awakeners were wanted everywhere.

The necessity was one thing, but to accept them as equal was another. They were just better than ordinary folks. Thus no one wanted to be dwiza if they had a choice.

Take the example of Chalukya, the current chief of the shrine. How hard he had worked to change his inevitable fate, but to no avail. As though the spirit was too headstrong to listen to his plea.

Sixty years ago, he was brought to this very spirit shrine with another hundred children of his age.

Almost all were awakened to be spirit-wielders. But when Chalukya got before the vigraha. The foolish child smiled and nodded at the idol as if it was alive. To this day, Chalukya regretted why he couldn't have just passed the vivid statue-like others.

But again, could he?

Even today, after sixty years later, when he looked into those captivating eyes, they smiled at him. The thin lips trembled to say something. The stone idol was as alive as he.

Four decades ago, when Old Jataka had brought him here from Vihaan. Chalukya had thought his mind was playing a trick on him. How could a stone idol smile? And the possibility of him being gone was not low. He had heard multiple instances when a person lost his sanity because of pain and anguish.

He didn't tell Jataka about his abnormality. He didn't want to lose the last home he had got after so much misery.

However, after a week or so of his stay, Old awakener Jataka called him in the sanctum. The elderly man sat in padmasana( lotus position), staring at the vigraha like a curious child. He beckoned young Chalukya to sit beside him.

Chalukya sat down, avoiding looking at the face of the idol.

"Look into the eyes of Mother; she has something to tell you," Jataka said in a sobbing voice. Tears rolling down on his wrinkled face.

Chalukya didn't ask the cause of the old man's sorrow as the reason stood before him.

The gorgeous face of the vigraha was dowsed with tears. Pearl-like tears were shedding from the enchanting eyes.

Chalukya gazed into the welled-up eyes. And he soon realized he had committed the gravest mistake of his life.

His mind reeled as sharp pain stabbed into his eyes. Chalukya cried out with excruciating pain. He tried to press his eyes, but Jataka clutched his hands. He heard him sobbing.

"No, don't touch them. They aren't yours anymore."

Before he could understand what the old man meant,

His brain began to throb as if it was growing. His veins were wriggling like baby snakes. The warm blood gushing out of his eyes washed his face.

Whispers, screams, pleas, maniac laugh, and roars of rage were driving him crazy. Then he saw what Jataka had meant.

The whole mazia was before him like a peach on his palm. Hazy but discernible enough to guess it was his world.

A soft whisper hushed his racing mind,

"O scion of Toshi, accept the curse of devas and the boon of Mother."

Chalukya roared like a wounded beast. He didn't want any damn curse and boon. Was the suffering so far not enough?

The whole nine-story tower howled with him.

He didn't when why he had fainted. Was it because of throbbing pain or anguish?

However, when Chalukya came around, there was no one in the sanctum, not even Jataka. He glanced at the tall statue; the crimson robes of the old awakener were dangling from the mouth of the idol.

The elderly man got subsumed into the vigraha. Horrified, Chalukya stepped back. Then his eyes fell on the crooked writing on the floor,

"Chalukya, my younger brother. Please pardon me for not telling you beforehand. I was helpless. Mother didn't want you to know about this. I hope you wouldn't blame Mother and me before discovering the whole truth. I wish I could tell you more, but It'll only harm you. I will only say It is our fate. And as for me, I'm with Mother helping her out. So don't worry about me... See you soon..."

Chalukya read the crooked writing, again and again, hoping to make out something. But it was no better than telling him nothing.

His eyes had mended miraculously; nothing seemed wrong with them till five years. When he discovered they are turning smokey. As though the dense fog was condensing in them. He visited the apothecary guild. Nimohis had no clue of his strange illness.

After one more year, the blurred visions began to flicker in his mind. And then came nightmares that haunted him in broad daylight.

His eyesight grew weaker till he couldn't even see his hand.

He started to mix his life and visions.

There was a time when he would begin to chat with someone who was still on his way to the shrine.

And sometimes, he would weep over the tragedies, befell millennia ago.

Fortunately, other awakeners were mysteriously aware of his deformity. They didn't outcast him or take his singularity as insanity.

It took him an entire decade to get used to his madness, or as Mother-spirit called the curse of devas. But where was the promised boon? And where was Jataka?

No news ever came, even in the form of rumour. As though the old man had disappeared from mazia itself.

Now when almost four decades had gone by, Chalukya, whose eyes had turned into stones, didn't need his eyes anymore. He could foresee anything. Just like today, he was going to meet someone that would decide the fate of the mazia. A Hara lost in the whirlpool of time.

The stone-eyed had got up long ago and was sitting on the edge of the pool, waiting for his unique visitor. He hadn't shown any curiosity when Lord Oman had requested him to have a look at his son. Mother had warned him to reveal anything about the lost Hara to anyone.

"Go, Escort Lord Oman and Lady Padma here," the Old man said to the waiting servant. The servant had long used to the uncanny ability of blind awakener to foresee the event. He left to greet the lord of Minaak.

"The new age will begin today. Would it be the end of Old Ways or A new beginning? Even I can't see. " Chalukya, the last seer of the Mazia, sighed. He was both afraid and excited.

Chalukya could hear the excited voice of Lupa, his attendant. And the shuffle of approaching feet.

He got up to his feet as Oman, into the garden. Not because to greet Lord of Minaak. Though the codes of King Aslan dictated it clearly, Chalukya cared less about the false Ruler and his meaningless codes.

He got up because no scion of Toshi could disregard Hara whether he was lost or in power.

The boy seemed as curious as a toddler. The deep black eyes had no clue of his identity. The cruel hand of time had erased even the visage of the slayer of Mora. He could sense the newly forged nadis. Nimoi had really given his best, not even caring about his life.

But again, who had not done his best.

He looked at the lady, who had cried over his dead son for three years. And thus unknowingly fulfilled the seemingly impossible condition of the ancient rites of awakening Hara.

She truly deserved the respect that Nimoi had given him before the baffled court.

Chalukya cleared his throat as he greeted his long-awaited guest,

"I hope Lord will pardon this blind man's audacity not to welcome you at the gate. "

"You're too humble venerable Chalukya. Oman will never expect such respect from a spirit shrine. Castle of Atlantia may scorn at the Old Ways. But Castle of Minaak will uphold them in the south." replied Oman in his serious tone. He knew it was against the king's order. It was his Minaak; he might have bent his knee before the conquer and gave his blade to him.

But Oman, a scion of Ankha, would never despise the Old Ways.

"The spirit will bless you, Lord. Please do have seats. And Lady, forgive this old man If my reluctance to see young lord has offended you. I never meant that way." Chalukya said in his humblest tone.

"I'm not offended with reverend one. I'm just concerned about my son. I hope you will not neglect the grandson of your old friend." Chalukya could feel the hidden taunt. But he ignored it. She was still the same. The headstrong girl who had chosen Oman, despite his lord father's stern opposition.

"This old man wouldn't dare. Though I can't promise anything to Lady. You know well, young sir has long passed the age." he replied, as he sat down on the stone bench.

"yes, I know. And This lady also knows that the blood of Ankha the great is flowing in my Ishit veins. The same blood who laid dormant for four decades. And when it woke up it drove the defiler from the land of Varta. And saved this shrine too. I hope you haven't forgotten his heart-wrenching sacrifice."

Padma replied her chin jutting out.

"How can I forget the great saviour of us awakeners, Lady? His position in our heart is second only to Mother. He is the reason I agree to meet young sir" Chalukya said. Ankha, the vanquisher of defilers, was an ancestor of Oman. But He was an oddity, a hero and saviour of Old ways.

Chalukya,in his vision, had seen his last battle where he had ripped the earth to separate Varta from Kandhar, and his unparalleled sacrifice too.

"How long will it take? My Ishit hasn't eaten anything." Lady asked with a concerning look. Changing the subject all of a sudden.

Chalukya's vision hadn't shown him this. He could feel a headache coming. Everyone knew one had to come with an empty stomach to the spirit shrine. And as for time, it varied from person to person. Sometimes it only took five to six minutes to trace out the path, and sometimes one to two hours.

Moreover, in this case, he didn't even know what he would do. The spirit hadn't shown him anything except that he had to guide the future Hara. No two Haras so far had walked down on the same path. And even if they had, Chalukya had no way of knowing. He had just seen a few visions of their battles, and nothing else. Their tales were nothing but myths now.

So how he was supposed to tell the exact time all he could do to start as early as possible.. So, after explaining to the worried mother, and assuring her that he wouldn't take longer than necessary, he excused himself and left with the future of Mazia.