The Last Rudra

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The colour of the dove and their meanings

Black colour:  False

White colour: closer to the truth 

Colourless (like glass) : True

Note: Only new hypotheses need validation.

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"I think; it means that my answer was valid, right? Ishit's voice broke the pin-drop silence. 

"Ah! Yes yes. Young lord won this round, " The middle-aged man replied, closing his agape mouth. "If master Viswa is ready we can proceed to the second round. "  He looked at the ashen-faced master smith and sighed.

In his fifty years long life, Karni had attended three debates, one with his father in the mason guild of Vaishali, one in Hampi's apothecary, and the last one in Ambra. He had guided the two out of the three. However, he had never seen a 13 -year old boy challenging a sixty-year-old veteran. What was more absurd, the lad had got the better of the master smith. The white dove was confirmation that the boy's approach was more accurate than the orthodox theory.

Once the news made its way to Atlantia,  the spiritualists of the royal society would be rushing here.

Karni felt fortunate for being part of the historical event. 

However, Nitya didn't share the keeper's sentiments. A deep frown appeared on his forehead. He called one of his apprentices and whispered into his ear.

"Tell Lord Oman, he should hurry over here and stop this debate or Young lord will bring a calamity on himself."The young man left immediately with a grim face. 

  Nitya didn't know whether he should praise the lad or rebuke him. This incident would stir the nest of ravens ( members of royal society wore black cloaks when they were in Atlantia), and Aslan would soon send an invitation to Minaak. 

Though every smith yearned for such an invitation, it was not a good thing for a scion of Ankha, more so who would inherit the throne. 

If the lad wouldn't show off more, they could always say it was just a fluke. 

As for stopping the jalpa, if Viswa agreed to tie with the lad, the eye would disappear. Seeing how his colleague was faring, he shouldn't have any problem with it. 

The gong rang again, bringing the crowd out of their stupor. However, no one spoke and jeered anymore, only the chirping of the dove could be heard in the symposium. 

They were staring at Ishit as if he were an unknown spirit beast. It was not their fault though, for  Ishit had shaken the well-established theory, giving birth to another hypothesis that would redefine the spirit and Yantras. Though it was not completely true, it was a great achievement for both Ishit and humanity and enough to win him the royal society membership. 

The debate, which had seemed nothing but a joke, hooked the crowd. They waited for the second round as if it were the final song of Suka, the bard. 

  As per the codes of Natya-shastra, Viswa, as a defeated opponent, would be given the chance to ask a question. 

The sullen-faced master gave Ishit a scrutinizing look. Though the judgement of the All-Knowing-Eye had made it clear the boy had equal footing with him, he still had some suspicion before. They too had gone away now. 

However, Viswa couldn't wrap his mind around how the lad had acquired such a deep insight into smithing.

Was he a Mitra?  There were many unbelievable tales about the mysterious folks of the moving village.  According to such a tale, they were believed to be undying people. It is said when Mitra's body became too old to carry their prana (soul), he left his body and entered another womb to be born again. As the soul-herder breath didn't corrupt their souls, they were born with past life memories. 

But then again, no Mitra would be bored enough to challenge a master smith. They had more important matters than taking an interest in mortal life. Moreover,  the boy's theory was not completely true, so the possibility of him being a white-robed was not very high. 

Viswa shook his head to prevent his thoughts from running wild. There was no knowing. 

All the crowd was staring at him, he had to come up with a question. With his four decades of experience, Viswa had no shortage of riddles. However, If he wanted to win the debate, Viswa had to ask a question that his opponent couldn't answer. 

Viswa took a deep breath, looked into the fearless eyes of his opponent. 

"As you may know, the soul is immune to all attacks," Viswa said, " However, how was  Ankha's sword, Kaal-Ghosa, able to destroy it? " 

It was another riddle to the smiths of Varta. The legendary sword perished with the savior of the realm in his last battle. And as for Rishabh, the smith that forged the Diya Astra, he had disappeared the very night or it was what Sutas or chroniclers said, leaving nothing behind but a cold forge. 

Many smiths tried or claimed to forge the replica of the legendary blade, but they were all bluffs, and nothing more. 

So when the smiths heard the question of Viswa that couldn't help but give the smith a surprising look. 

One should know that if Viswa wanted to win the debate he had to ask a question that he himself could answer. 

Or if both debaters couldn't answer the question, It would cancel Viswa's two chances to ask questions in a row, thus giving his opponent an edge over him.

Though Ishit didn't have deep knowledge about Vartian smithing, the inability of forgoing the legendary sword of the current smiths was not unknown to him. 

So when he heard Viswa's question, he couldn't help but wonder what the master smithing was getting at. Did he not want to win the Jalpa? Or 

Did he figure out the secret of Kaal-Ghosa? 

The possibility of the later was nil. 

Then he must have some conjectures. Ishit pondered.

Ishit didn't know the answer.  Of course, he had some hypothesis of himself that he had conjectured, during his stay in Lamia, learning the healing art from Dhrita. 

However, they were just hypotheses and nothing else;  how valid they were there was no knowing. 

The crowd was looking at him expectantly. They wanted to know whether the young man could answer the riddle that had puzzled them for centuries. 

Ishit took a deep breath, and  decided to bet on his untested conjectures, 

"To say that Kaal-Ghosa could destroy a soul will be wrong. As the soul is indestructible; There is nothing beyond it. "  Ishit looked at the surprised crowd, and continued, 

"However, destruction is not the only way to kill someone.  There is another one, maybe some of you know it already. 

We are nothing but an accumulation of memories. So if someone wipes out your memories you will be nothing but blank paper.  Of course, you can always gather new memories, but you won't be like your previous self. 

And if someone somehow destroys even your capacity to remember, then what? You will be a new person after each moment. 

In my opinion, Kaal-Ghosh didn't destroy the soul, as it is not possible, it wiped out their memories, along with the capacity to remember. So minions of Mora are  still somewhere, foolishly asking themselves over and over again, who they are."

Though Ishit's answer again was a rebuttal to the well-established opinion, none in the audience jeered this time. They pondered his statement and waited for Viswa to reply. 

Ishit's reply was a solace to Viswa. Though the boy's hypothesis was not completely wrong, especially the part regarding another method to kill someone. 

However, to think the soul was indivisible was ridiculous. The history of Mazia was filled with incidents where even the soul of a warrior had perished in the ground-shattering battle.

As for Mora's minions were destroyed by Kaal-Ghosa, it was reported by a Nimohi, one of the few survivors of the samvartaka fire. It was said the Nimohi of that era could sense and even see the white-wives- coming. 

However, no white wives came to take their souls that day. 

What did it prove?  There was nothing left for the death fairies. 

Viswa took a breath of relief and voiced the result of his years-long research. He refused to believe his hypothesis would not win him a white dove from the All-Knowing-Eye. 

"I would not refute the young man's theory, for it is the eye's job. But I have my own thoughts on this matter. And I hope you will find them worthy to ponder over. 

According to my years-long study of this matter, I have drawn the conclusion that the soul is made of two kinds of energy. 

One is called - Kira and the other is called Kaya. of course the two names are given by me, and I have my reasons. As they are off-topic, so I will not go through them here. 

The two energies determined the sex of a being. 

If you're a male, the quantity of Kira is more than that of Kya in your soul, and vice-versa. 

So if somehow a smith can find a method to separate these two energies, the soul can be destroyed. 

In my opinion, the Kaal-Ghosa must have this ability, and thus it was able to destroy the unkillable evildoers. 

  " Viswa finished the answer in a single breath and beckoned Karni to fold the two leaves. 

The keeper, who had already finished with the first one, tucked the second one dextrously and charmed the two paper-birds. 

The two doves flew off to the mirror. The raging flames licked the two birds to ashes. No one in the crowd dares to stir. 

Holding their breath, they waited for the answer, that would redefine the definition of a soul. 

However, before Mitra's eye could announce its judgement, a commotion disturbed the pin-drop silence of the symposium.