The Last Rudra

Guha made his way through the crowd. In his mind was only one thought.

His Niro was dead, no doubt. Then who was sitting on his shoulder.

A potoo or …. A shiver ran through his spine as the other frightening possibility hit him.

He had read about the mysterious potoo at Spirit Academy of Minaak as a part of his elementary education.

Many theories were revolving around the elusive creatures. Some claimed that they were just lingering consciousness of dead spirit birds, while some claimed them to be another kind of spirit bird capable of occupying any dead bird's body. Whichever was true but one thing that all theories had in common, Potoos were not something that a mere pass-out of spirit academy should carry around on his shoulder. If a potoo got angry, it could kill you in countless uncanny ways. Only a trained falconer, spiritualist, or yoddha could deal with them. And as for the second possibility, he didn't dare to even think of them any further.

He had to find his mom as soon as possible.

He didn't dare to chat with the parrot anymore, who was gawking at everything as if it was the bird's first time in Minaak. That didn't surprise him. The city was well protected. So there was no easy way, even for a potoo, to get past its check.

Guha's so frightened that he didn't dare to linger anywhere, not even to watch the fire-dancers who were performing in the market square. Or to listen to Suka the bard, whose songs were painting the glorious battles in the air. He crossed the city square and stepped into the alley that led to his home.

The alley was almost 30 feet wide, with houses lined on both sides. It was deserted. Guha hadn't even taken three steps before he sensed something was off. Though he was not a true falconer, his spiritual sense was not inferior to any apprentice.

Someone was watching him. Someone with no good intention. Guha didn't stop, nor did he try to look for the lurker. He knew well enough no one with a sane mind would try to attack him inside the city. Old codes, laid down by Aslan, the king himself. However, the spirit in the night breeze was tense. A sign, as his dad had taught him, that danger was at hand. He didn't doubt the spirit nor his father's teaching. He started to circulate spirit through his nadis. As he waited for the attack. His hearing heightened with the flow of spirit.

The rustling sound of leaves. Murmuring of the breeze as it sighed through the nearby trees. The distant noise of the market.

Suddenly, another sound entered his ear, faint but sharp enough to raise Guha's hair. The parrot was swifter than him. It flew before even Guha could react. However, Guha didn't have time for the bird; he swiftly formed the shield before him as a blue spear, wet with condensation, came thrusting towards his heart. Guha bent his body backward and thrust the spear skyward.

He had predicted this move of the attacker. With an odd twist, Guha rolled onto the cobblestones underfoot. His heart was thudding.

It was a close call. The attacker had not expected him to be so agile. Guha pushed the ground as he leaped to his feet. His eyes, glowing with spirit, were fixed at the hooded figure before him. He could sense spirit condensing around the attacker.

There was no way he was an ordinary assassin. Guha glanced at the faintly glowing blue blade in the assaulter's hand. An apprentice of the assassin guild. The faint blue coloured blade was their sign. He had heard tales about them. He never thought one day he would face the ruthless blade himself.

The attacker didn't linger around. He leaped into the air and vanished. But Guha knew it was just temporary camouflage achieved using spirit. The assassin was lurking somewhere around him, waiting for the chance to strike.

He had to do something. He raced his mind. All his training was about how to entice and form bonds with spirit birds. Only some basic understanding of combat was given to him. And without his guardian bird, that too was no good.

Guha formed a shield around him and looked for the attacker vigilantly. The street was empty. Guha looked towards his home and felt the spirit coming from its direction.

The path to his home was blocked. The assassin was waiting for him ahead. The faint distant noise had faded away.

A sonas bird was nearby. The assassin was not alone. A falconer or an apprentice falconer from the guild was assisting him. That didn't surprise him. He knew who the falconer was. Kruma had lost his patience at last.

He had to get out of here as soon as possible. His mother and they both were in danger.

Kruma, the most treacherous falconer, wouldn't have made a move If he hadn't been sure of his plan. Guha had no idea why Kruma was not afraid of Oman, the city lord, anymore.

He looked back. Another hooded figure was standing there with a small bird flapping its wings over his head. Ripples of spirit were spreading into the air, damping any noise.

Guha couldn't go back.

If only Niro was alive, he would send him to warn his mother. There was no doubt now that the parrot was dead, and its body had been occupied by someone else. Guha was sure his parrot would have never abandoned him.

He shook his head. There was no point in thinking of Niro now.

He scanned his surroundings. The closed houses and trees seemed to be hushed by the presence of the death bringer.

Even mortal birds in their nest were pretending to be asleep.

Crows, bats, owls…

A plan struck his racing mind. No, it was not a plan. It was insanity; even his father hadn't dared to try.

He dissolved his shield and took a deep breath. He knew he was reckless. But again, what choice he had. He had to do something before the assassin lost his patience and came for him again, face to face.

Guha's lips trembled slightly, and the spirit tensed up like a string. His consciousness rushed out, spreading in every direction like water from a broken dam. Guha felt as if life was draining out of him. The strange incantation from his father's diary, which was never be uttered before, worked. Guha's mind went blank for a moment, and then he saw feebly glowing dots in the nearby trees. Just in a glance, he knew what they were. His father was right; Mortal birds also had consciousness but feeble.

Guha knew he didn't have much time. So, he guided his spreading consciousness towards the feebly glowing lights. The faint ripples stirred the lights, and the birds chirped up all of a sudden. Guha felt his soul shaken, and splitting pain throbbed in his head. He swiftly widowed his consciousness back. His eyes were bleeding. However, he had succeeded.

The birds from a nearby peepal tree flew out madly, squawking loudly. They swooped down towards the assassin hidden in the air.

Attacking the dumbfounded apprentice crazily.

Guha's head was splitting with pain, his bleeding eyes blurring. But he didn't dare to waste the hard-earned opportunity. He flicked his hand and leaped into the air. The spirit gave him momentum as he glided into the air. His legs were trembling.

He saw the assassin cutting off the mad mortal birds swiftly. His heartfelt bleed seeing the birds dying. But he could do nothing. He took another leap and was out of the reach of the assassin.

He looked towards his house. A few more steps and he would be on the porch, but his legs were jelly, his mind was filled with the scratching of birds. He tried to leap one more time, but the spirit didn't respond to him. He mumbled something and collapsed on the street, unaware of the fact that his summoned birds were all butchered by the assassin.

*************************

Onish kept flying as fast as his wings could carry him. Passing over the buildings and towers. He looked for a place to hide and to get rid of the damn bluebird. His lungs were aching like hell. If not for the strange invisible, mysterious shields around the buildings, he would have been long killed. However, they, too, were behaving oddly. The shields would let him in first, but after some time, they would throw him out. He wondered what kind of people didn't let even a bird perch on their roof.

During his frantic flights, he passed over the trees, where many birds were sleeping in their nests peacefully. No crazy bluebird was chasing them. Why couldn't he have a peaceful bird life like them?

He thought of Guha, the chattering kid who had saved him in the woods once. Now, he was regretting abandoning the boy.

Onish tried to turn back and seek the lad's help, but the damn bird was just too fast. Moreover, the boy would have got home already.

He also thought of abandoning the body, but the memory of the black shadow made him shudder. Chased by a bird was way better than being chased by the evil shadow.

Onish looked back at the bird that was just a few feet behind him. It was time to enter another shield. Or the bird would soon catch up to him. He dived towards the castle over which he had passed at least a dozen times so far. Onish felt the ripples all over his body as he entered the invisible shield. He swooned down on a gargoyle's head. Gasping for breath. He saw the bluebird fluttering around the shield, waiting for him to be hauled out.

He ignored it. The game had been going on for the last three hours. He had only five or so mins to catch his breath before he had to flee again. His throat was parched and aching. His wings were getting heavier with each frantic flight. Onish knew his weak body wouldn't last much longer. Had Guha not fed him the green medicine or had he not absorbed the pranic energy from the blue pearl, he would have been long exhausted.

He closed his eyes. He didn't feel despair like before. However, the thought came up again. Why was he here, in this odd world? Why has Parmatan brought him here?

However, no answer came.

After some time, Onish opened his eyes and looked up at the starry sky. A slice of the moon was fighting with the enshrouding night. The night, which had long erased the visage of the mighty sun, was unable to erode the pale moon.

A struggle for survival. Something unfamiliar or long-forgotten memory stirred within Yogi. However, there was no time to check it, for the shield was gathering the strange energy to expel him. Onish took a deep breath, and he flew off again to join the game.

The bird seemed to be ready and swooned down on him as soon as Onish left the safety of the shield. Its metallic talons pulled some of the parrot's coloured feathers.

The parrot squawked and flipped in the air and narrowly avoided the bird's sharp talon. It swooped down like a meteor.

Below, the street was empty. Onish flew into the lonely street sweeping past the well-lit window. However, he soon felt something was wrong. The bird hadn't followed him down.

His soul screamed in horror. Onish looked around frantically. A hooded figure stood ahead of him, with his hands formed in strange mudra.

Onish tried to flip into the air, but he felt a sudden pull, and before he could do anything, he was trapped in a cage, its bars glowing yellow.

Onish violently flapped his wings and tried to break open the magical cage, but the bars singed his wings.

The struggle was futile.

"So, it was you. a damn parrot." the figure cursed as it took a closer look at the struggling bird.

Onish saw he was a middle-aged man with a stubble face. His eyes were hidden under his hood.

" Ah, just a mortal world! How it is possible. Shields should have attacked a mortal bird., " mumbled the man to himself. He examined the caged parrot with a little interest and then shook his head.

"It's none of my damn business, anyway. Mortal or not mortal, I have to just hand it over to Oman. Hope the odd parrot would mollify his rage.. " The figure muttered and walked away with the cage dangling beside him.