The Last Rudra

"You can do it! Yes, a little more...oh no.." loud voices of encouragement and then disappointment were resounding in the drill ground.

A twelve-year boy, doubled over with his hands on knees, was puffing and sweating heavily. His clothes were smeared in the dust as if he had taken a dust bath. 

A hooded man was standing a few feet away, watching him emotionlessly. The castle guards, with their commander, had huddled together around the dua and were enjoying the rare show. 

Their young lord, who miraculously had learned every primary spirit path in his dream, was training with them today. Of course, they didn't buy the story, for they were not unaware of the boy's enthusiasm about learning the wielder's ways and his earlier attempts to coax them to divulge the secrets.

The boy must have gotten his hand on a scroll and memorized all the diagrams before trying one, thus bringing the calamity on himself. 

Anyway, they were happy for their young lord. It wasn't a minor achievement. Memorizing the diagrams needed a sharp memory and concentration power, even more so if you hadn't awakened your nadis. 

"Stand up, lad. Your enemy won't wait till you catch your breath." said the hooded figure. "take your ground, I'm attacking." with that, a blue spirit ball materialized into his hand.

Guards sighed; the Fowler really was merciless. For the past an hour, he was threshing the poor lad, who had just embarked on the spirit path. 

There was no need to be so strict. For a novice like him, he was doing great. On their first day, many of them couldn't form a spirit rod, let alone a blade. As for a shield, it took them a whole fortnight to condense one, sturdy enough to withstand a middle-level attack. 

Painting, the boy looked at the Fowler, grimacing with the pain. Surprisingly his gleaming eyes didn't seem tired or afraid. He steadied himself, and formed a shining silver shield, and beckoned the Fowler to go ahead. 

"Is he mad for facing an attack with a mirror shield?" one of the castle guards said. Nobody answered him, but their faces showed they all agreed with him. 

By the look of the glowing threads in the ball, they could easily recognize the Fowler's move. An apprentice-level attack, enough to kill or at least seriously injure an elementary student.

And as for the mirror shield,  it was used to reflect the assaulter's attack. A good tactic but only useful if your opponent was on the same level as you or you caught him unaware. 

"Are you ready, lad?" Bhadra asked, seemingly puzzled by his action. It was Fowler who had advised Oman to feed the lad a memory pill. Though the pill had severe side effects, they could do nothing to the lad who had survived Osric's tears. 

And he was right. The boy really had been forged anew. The boy's tenacity, agility, and his sensitivity to sense the danger were all on another level. 

Now Bhadra only needed to make sure the boy had a good grasp on every path. 

Knowing the spirit path was one thing to use them another. 

Take the example of the silver shield, the boy apparently had no idea how strong it was, or he wouldn't have faced his attack using it. Bhadra smiled faintly, imagining what was about to come. He was not going to point it out for the lad. The young lord would have to learn it by himself. 

  With a nod from Ishit, the glowing ball shot out of the Fowler's hand.  The guards watched silently, holding their breath. The attack turned into a blazing fist as it crashed into the silver shield. Some of the guards closed their eyes, for they knew what would follow next. The attack would again send the lad flying into the air. 

However, they soon realized how wrong they were about his young master. 

***

Ishit's every pore was aching with the beating, disguised in training,  he received from Bhadra. No matter how strong the shield he formed, it shattered like a looking mirror. All the shields he learned in Illium were unable to protect him from the Fowler's assaults. What was more frustrating, the hooded man was only using middle-level or apprentice-level attacks so far.

He was thinking of giving in and calling it a day. It was then a thought clicked in his mind, or to speak precisely, it was his sixth fall of disgrace that gave him this idea. 

Using the time while he was panting, doubled over with his hands on his knees, he visualized a new shield with three layers of different thickness and strengths. 

Ishit watched as the blazing fist smashed into his modified mirror shield. As expected, the shield shattered as soon as it touched the strike. Ishit felt pressure around him, but he didn't move from his place. Instead, he strengthened his second layer of defense. He had condensed it taking inspiration from the mattress. 

Ishit saw,  as soon as the fist hit it, the shield caved in, but it didn't shatter. The fine spirit net tensed up as the air around ishit compressed as if trying to squeeze him. The blazing fist dimmed as it pierced the mysterious shield. The last shield was again a mirror shield combined with a defensive shield. 

The fist, which had lost its fierceness by now, bounced and vanished before it could even touch Ishit.

Shouting loudly, Ishit leaped up into the air with excitement;  it was his first win. He could see the surprise on the face of the castle guards. Even Bhadra looked a little impressed, for he told him to accept his attack again. The next attack was a bit more violent than before. It made Ishit face flushed red with its great squeezing force. 

However, Ishit's new shield blocked it as well. Reinvigorated by his success, Ishit continued experimenting with his shields. Bhadra attacks were getting more and more violent. 

However, despite getting squeezed five times and being forced to eat the soil thrice, Ishit didn't accept defeat. He knew if he racked his brain hard, he could forge an impregnable shield. 

The training continued till the sun was up and glaring at them. Ishit shield was now so complicated and bizarre that they amazed even the Fowler. Bhadra scrutinized the fine spirit net of the flashing before the boy. He had never seen such an odd shield, seemingly so weak yet so tenacious. 

He could see the boy's spirit and strength had been drained out. His faltering steps couldn't be more obvious, now was the time for the thing that had been waiting for long millennia. 

"Lad, I think we have had enough of the shields forging. Now, you have to come with me to the tower. I have a surprise waiting for you." Bhadra said with an evil smile tugging on his lips. 

Ishit felt a shudder running through his body. What could make the Fowler so happy? 

And what did he say? He had to go with him into the cursed tower. Ishit face lost color. The frightening tales he heard about the place came rushing to him.  He hurriedly said, 

"Bhadra, I'm starving. Can I have a meal first..." 

"No, it couldn't wait anymore. Let's go." and before Ishit could oppose him, he walked off. 

Nothing could be done, for his father's instructions were clear; he had to obey Fowler without any complaint. So he dragged his feet as he followed the hooded figure. 

The maids giggled, watching him all smeared in dust, tattered clothes. Ishit glared at them, but his threat seemed to make them more disobedient. 

Frustrated, he paced up to catch up to the Fowler, wondering what Fowler had planned for him next. 

As always, trees seemed to be watching him, staring at him as if he was an oddity. Once or twice he and Guha had sneaked into here, but they never dared to venture further. 

The eroswood trees, with their knotty grey trunk,  stood surrounding the dark tower with a serpent door, which nobody hadn't been able to open before the Fowler. 

"Bhadra , are you really taking me inside your tower? I mean you never let me in before." Ishit said, trying hard not to sound like he was scared.  The scary stories, circulated in the servants and maids of the castle, were surfacing up in his mind one by one. 

"Is it so? As far as I could recall, you never asked me," Bhadra said. Ishit could sense the hidden mirth in his voice. The fowler knew very well no one in the castle wanted to be anywhere near this evil tower. Ishit was not an exception. 

Maybe that was why he was bringing him in the dark building, as his punishment. 

Anyway, It wouldn't devour him alive. Ishit told his quivering heart. 

The metal serpent wriggled as they came alive, hissing loudly. Bhadra walked in.  Ishit followed him closely, not daring to face the dangling snakes alone.

Uncannily, the tower seemed familiar to him as if he had been here before. 

"Boy, you must be thinking that I'm going very hard on you. But life is like this. You have no idea how many eyes staring at you, waiting to devour you. Your enemies don't care whether you've taken breakfast or a rest. They just want you to be weak and careless." Bhadra spoke as they took a dingy corridor. Ishit wonder why he hadn't placed any moonstones here. As for what the Fowler was blabbering, he cared nothing.  He occupied himself with watching the figurines carved on the stone walls. So vivid as if once alive, men and women got frozen into stones. 

Ishit noticed there were many chambers along the corridor with intricate doors. Here and there, oil torches were burning, making the already stuffy air more unbearable. 

After trudging a winding corridor and taking three flights of worn-out stone stairs, Bhadra finally halted before a black door with two figurines of dwarfs carved on it. 

"As I said just now, opportunity doesn't wait for a man, So one has to be ready to grasp it. This chamber has something you will need if you want to win the championship in Inna's feast. As you must have guessed, you are way far behind your peers. Even a simple guard can easily beat you into pulp, not to speak. They won't even get permission to enrol in the contest. 

You need time to practice the skills and familiarize yourself with the spirit, but it's time we lack the most. So your father wants you to take this trial. It will give you a chance to experience a real-life battle, and if you somehow pass it, you'll be rewarded with something that you lacked the most right now. But remember, don't  mention anything about it to anyone, not even your chatterbox friend or sister " 

Bhadra said in his solemn voice. Ishit knew he was right. Despite all the miracles, he was still very far away from competing with the contestants, coming to participate in Inna's feast. His father had told him about the event and what was at stake if he didn't secure a place in a prestigious academy. 

So despite not knowing what sort of trial was waiting for him in the dingy chamber, he asked Bhadra to open the door and let him in. 

"Good, then," Bhadra said. "However, before you go in, let me warn you about something. Don't trust anyone inside. Not even your thoughts. And take this" Bhadra took out an emblem, and handed it to Ishit, "Whenever you feel that you can't go on and want to end the trial.  Just drop one drop of your blood, and you will be thrown out, but remember you'll never be able to enter again."

With that Bhadra turned to the intricate door. He said something in some archaic tongue unknown to Ishit..  The door creaked open, revealing a flight of dusty stairs going down.