The Last Rudra

Walking the winding corridors, and climbing three flights of worn-out granite stairs, when Onish got to the sanctum of the shrine, he was amazed to see the two gargoyles guarding the giant carved golden door.

The fierce-looking black stone beasts were baring their sharp teeth in a leering grin. Their eyes were of two bright red stones.

Chalukya, who seemed to be pondering something and hadn't uttered a word on the way, spoke at last.

"dvaaram udghaaTaya)"(open the door)

The faint Sanskrit syllable vibrated the cool morning breeze and whispered life into the two inanimate winged creatures. Onish, who had long since gotten accustomed to the strange workings of the world, watched the stone turning into flesh. Within a few moments, two humanoid creatures were glaring at them.

"Why did you disturb us, Dwiza? The spring is still far away."

Grunted one of them, with two pointed horns on his bald head.

"Sorry, Kumbha. This old man needs Mother's help today."

Chalukya was really sorry to disturb the two gargoyles before the awakening month. But he was helpless. Mother had left him in the lurch again. He couldn't afford the ways of soothsayers, not after the last incident with Prince Tissa. So the only choice he had was to use the sanctum. Where he could seek the help of Vigrah.

"You know what it will cost you, stone-eyed?"

Growled the other gargoyle with a body full of glowing scales.

"Yes, this cursed one knows too well." Chalukya said with a pensive look. He would not have come here if he had a choice. The dark age was at hand. Hara had to be awakened as soon as possible, or this time Old Ways would vanish from Mazia just like Zaroasts, Aztecs, Mayan, and Death worshipers. His last ghastly vision had steeled his will to open the sanctum door before the due time, despite the ruinous cost.

"I really pity you, Dwiza." growled Kumbha, as the two gargoyles turned and pushed open the heavy door.

The dense pranic energy rushed towards them, engulfing the three figures. Onish, who couldn't sense the divine energy during his meditation, was amazed at the purity of the vital energy. His heart exulted. If he could meditate in this chamber, he was sure he could awaken his all nadis and chakras again.

"Lupa, you can leave us here. The light of Ahura Mazda will guide me from here." Chalukya said to the young attendant, whose face was ashen white with fear. Apparently, the two fierce gargoyles had scared the wits out of the young man. Onish didn't think less of the boy. If he hadn't seen the ghastly yamadutas, spine-chilling dakinis, blood-curdling kriyas, he wouldn't have been so calm.

"Y...yes…venerable one." The young man scampered off without looking back again.

The sanctum was an octagonal chamber with mosaic flooring. The spacious room was well lit with the light of blue fire, surging out of the carved bowls, placed on the engraved white stone pillars in all the eight corners.

A lifelike idol of an ethereal beauty stood at the octagonal altar in the middle. The celestial woman was folding her right hand in a blessing mudra, and in her left was a blue tulip.

The sculptor must be Vishwakarma himself to have carved such a soul-capting beauty out of the formless stone. Onish left monetarily dazzled by the smiling face, whose almond green eyes followed him as he stepped into the sacred room after taking off his shoes.

A faint familiar feminine scent welcomed him, but he couldn't recollect the bearer of the pleasant fragrance. He scanned the chamber, but no one was there except the stone-eyed, who strangely seemed to be able to avoid treading on the mandalas engraved on the floors.

"Let's know when you want to leave, Dwiza." Kumbha's, the gargoyles grunted as he shut the metal door behind them, leaving the boy and the old man alone in the chamber.

"Young lord, can sit anywhere he wants. This old man needs some time to invoke Mother." It was his first time to perform the long-forgotten rites of Old Ways before an outsider.

The idolatry had long since been banished from Varta by King Aslan, who believed in the ways of spiritualists, the bunch of fools who couldn't even see the calamity at thier threshold.

He wouldn't have dared to breach the false king's codes if he was not sure that the boy was the chosen Hara. The boy needed to know the truth before he was too beguiled by the ignorant idiots with their twisted logic.

Chalukya recalled the days when he was young, full of hope and curiosity. How the scrolls in Vihaan on the spirit seemed to him so logical and factual. He could challenge any spirit awakener and defeat them too. Not because he was knowledgeable. It was just that he was not even interested to see their logic and evidence.

His mind was so full of texts that he simply dismissed Jataka's warning at their first meeting in Vihaan. Jataka had cautioned him, "Young man, you should leave Vihaan within two days, or a calamity will befall you."

Chalukya had laughed at the old man," You've lost your bronze ducats, soothsayer, by uttering such ominous words."

But the calamity came. It came on its due time, struck him like lightning, and left him charred and lifeless.

He didn't want future Hara go through such misery to learn the truth.

So Chalukya had decided to show the ancient ways to the young lord, for which Ankha, his great ancestor, had died in the battle of Nagani.

Onish sat down on the immaculate floor, a few feet away from the altar, watching the stone-eyed curiously.

Invoking a deity was no new to him. As a Sanatani, he was well aware of such rituals, and he himself had invoked various gods to gain help on the earth.

The world that seems functioning on its own is just an illusion. Everything from wind to fire, from water to land, is controlled by the overseeing deities. These deities sometimes leave traces of their presence, but these prints are nothing but coincidences to ignorant humanity.

Chalukya untied his spatial bag from his waist and took out different things from it: a tulip flower, an ewer, and glowing spirit fruits, a few twigs with five leaves of some unknown plant.

He placed them carefully on the altar, one by one chanting spells. The stone-eyed could feel the air growing tense with each offering. His flickering thoughts were soothing. An indication that the omnipresent Mother was concentrating her attention on this place.

The ritual was passed down to him by Jataka, his mentor, with a warning not to leak it to an outsider. The simple ritual was a double-edged blade. If not being performed according to Old Ways, it could have serious consequences.

Long ago, when everyone used to follow Old Ways, Only awakeners or called dwizas, were tasked to perform the rites.

Even so, several mishappens had befallen. It was believed that the birth of the first spirit-defiler, Mora, was the result of such a misshapen.

So Chalukya didn't dare to mispronounce any syllable of spells, nor did he dare to misform any mudras.

The process didn't take long.

With the last offering of the water from the Nemariya sea, Chalukya formed the Gyan mudras to let Mother guide his mind.

The stone-eyed mind went blank as visions flashed into before his stone eyes. His eyes seemed to pop out of the sockets. And his forehead veins were bursting out. Blood trickled down from his nose, but stone-eyed didn't even flinch his wrinkled face.

Alarmed, Onish got up to his feet. Did something go wrong?

All of a sudden, Chalukyas body shuddered, and it rolled onto the floor like a cut-down tree trunk. Onish rushed to help the unconscious awakener. But as soon as he touched his body. He flinched back. The stone-eyed body was burning like a red hot pan.

The wrinkled face was growing red like a ripe tomato.

What was he supposed to do now? With the door closed, and the awakener like this, he couldn't even leave the chamber. He was sure the two gargoyles wouldn't respond to his call.

Onish glanced at the fainted awakener helplessly. He had to do something to awaken him. What an irony! It was the old man who was supposed to awaken his nadis.

As he couldn't touch the stone-eyed, so he walked over to the ewer to get some water. But as soon as he touched it, the blue fire in the eight bowls surged up, dazzling the room as if enraged. And before Onish could flinch back, a streak of light rushed out of the idol and entered into his body.

Horrified, Onish jumped back away from the vigrah, who was still smiling. But it was too late, as he could sense the warm sensation rushing through his nadis. Onish didn't waste a minute and sat down on the floor. He had to force out the strange thing before it could damage his spirit paths.

The yogi forcefully calmed down his thoughts and turned his awareness inward.

He saw the light streak was burning down his nadis, turning them wispy. Appalled, Onish guided his spiritual sense to block the evil lightning's path, but it passed through it like his awareness didn't even exist.

Onish couldn't do anything but watch like a man whose house was on fire, and he had no water to put it out.

The speed of the streak was like lightning, so it didn't take long to burn all the 72000 nadis.

Onish's heart sank; now his hope to be spirit wielder had entirely gone.

But maybe in despair, the yogi forgot the simple fact no one could live without nadis. And He was still alive. There was really something worng with the frightening light streak.

The lightning didn't leave his body after devouring the nadis, it streaked toward his heart chakra, but Onish couldn't care less. He watched as an ascetic watched his body degrade.

The streak entered into his soul with agonizing pain.

Despondent Onish's mind buzzed, and he heard a faint whisper,

"So you've come. Alas! But, too late." the whisperer seemed more disheartened than him.

"I had waited for you in the Village of Gopas for one thousands samsara cycles. But you didn't come. and..." the female voice stopped in the middle. Onish was dumbfounded; he had no idea what the mysterious intruder was talking about. What Gopas village? He had never heard of such place let alone promised someone to wait for him there.

"I can see. So, you have no memory of me." the voice said. "Let it be like this then. You won't have to suffer like me. I'm content to see you again." The pain and regret were evident in the plaintive whisper.

"The tale of us will end here. Let's part our ways, you, to live, me, to die." The whisper died away as if integrated into his soul. Leaving Onish downcasted more than he already was.

He didn't know why his heart was crying. The gloom and despair began to create havoc in his heart, and mind. He couldn't careless of a forgotten promise. His hard work of 8.4 millions briths had gone to the drains just like that. What would he do now?

The yogi might have decided to take samadi there had a new memory not surfaced up.

It was something strange but seemed familiar to him. Tt was a scene. A figure made of only nadis was sitting in the void. And golden light was gushing through his wispy nadis.

Onish's mind reeled up. Were his nadis not like them. He didn't waste time in pondering where the memory popped out.

What he did was to soothed his drowning heart and stilled his thoughts.

The yogi observed the ethereal figure guiding his awareness through the wispy sprit paths. Tracing out the invisible nadis in the void.

After watching carefully, Onish imitated the figure

. A cool sensation washed his wispy nadis. It was really soothing. He kept going on. Unaware of his body's condition.

As he was tracing the invisible paths, a few strange changes were going on in his body. But nobody was there to see them except the teary eyes of the idol.. The beautiful face who could enslaved countless warriors was dowsed with tears.