Chapter twenty - part one

In the heart of the heart

*"Oh mother craw,

why are you so sad?

Will you tell me why you cry?

Far away up on the mountains,

All my babies wait for me...

They're so sweet, they're so sweet,

And I really miss them so

They're so sweet, they're so sweet

Back to them I go..."

The sunlight, pouring in a thick stream of fresh warmth woke him up. There was a pleasant smell of spring in the air. It was the song that struck him, accompanied by a melody produced with a wooden flute. Those words were unfamiliar to elvish folks, even the outlaws. He heard them during his time in human realms.  According to Sanskar there was only one person who could have taught the Bhava children a human nursery rhyme and that person was avoiding him like plague these days.

The thought pulled out a string of memories after it. He recalled waking up to the ruby red first light illuminated Marutha caves, following the night he spent in feverish hallucinations. For a fraction of a moment he felt disoriented. His eyes took in the smooth cave walls, the intense sunlight they reflected and tried to focus his thoughts into orienting his location. The last he remembered was talking to the woman that led the group of their captors. Even that memory was blurred with pain and he could not plainly recall anything afterwards. That moment, the woman had been interrogating about Swara. Swara! He sat up with a jolt, what happened to her? Did the woman work out who she was, if so what would she plan to do with her.

Almost on the edge of jumping to some impulsive action, he barely noticed the weight of someone's head on his palm, or the sensation of warm fingers swathed around his wrist. Glancing down, at his right hand that remained resting on the mattress, Sanskar caught the sight of Swara's head. She must have been watching over him during the night,  sitting by his side. The exhaustion seemed to have caught up with her as she fall asleep in the end. Her cheek rested on the palm of his hand she was still holding onto as she slept on, dishevelled hair hiding her face from his view.

She stirred and blinked her eyes few times, still too sleepy to form coherent thoughts. The intense sunlight turning ash pink from ruby red was obstructing her view. With few more blinks her pupils finally adjusted to the excess of pouring light and she caught a sight of his emerald eyes, wide awake and glaring at her.

Noting she was awake, Sanskar pulled his hand off her grasp with a jerk, and crossed his arms still glaring at her.

" Who told you to reach out to the herz?" His voice was raspy, almost seething in anger.

Swara sat up, her fingers pulling her messy hair off her face into a hasty knot and her golden eyes burning.

" Well, good morning to you too." She spoke then,  her tone skeptical. " I should have known there was no way a Vajra would thank someone for saving their life. My bad," She stood up to leave rustling her skirts as she smoothed them off, matching his glare with one of her own.

He gripped her wrist, before she managed to flee his presence.

" Do you realise what you have done?"

" Yes well. I saved your life and now I'm starting to regret it. Will you let me go now?"

" No, " Sanskar replied briskly. " I have no such plans."

" Ha ha! Very funny." Swara rolled her eyes for further effort.  

Sanskar's emerald orbs narrowed.  

" Think this is a joke huh?" His grip loosened as he released her. Swara rubbed her wrist scowling at him and stepped away towards the exit.

 Watching her leave, he spoke again, this time in a different tongue. Those words reminded her of the whispering woods in the Vajrateerta borders. And she shivered Involuntarily recalling the time Mohan had escaped with her through those strange lands. She shook her head and took another step to leave.

That command, never reached her feet as they remained rooted on the spot. It took a only a moment to conclude her situation. Something or rather someone was holding her there, with an unfathomable charm.

The next time she spoke, a moment later, the initial playfulness had vanished from her tone. It was replaced by a steely edge, a sense of coldness.

" Release me this instant!"

Sanskar rose to his feet, a little grudgingly but steady enough.  His eyes were cold hazel then, lips pressed into a thin line as he approached her.

"Last night you made a pact with the herz," He said calmly, in a dismissive tone. " It binds you to the lands of herz, my lands. Everything that belongs to my lands abide by my rules," he finished, stopping in front of her, his arms crossed and lips pulled sideways into a sarcastic smirk. " Did Mohan forget that tiny bit of information?"

The golden eyes blinked up to meet his, an extra sheen polishing them up. Up close he could count the trillions of tiny specks of warm brown swimming in her irises.

" I thought even the prince of Vajras won't be shallow enough to betray someone that saved their life."

He laughed at her, watching the tears pooling in her eyes.

"Do you know why you entertain such thoughts?" he asked then in the same mocking tone. "It is because you are under my spell."

"No!" She shook her head vigorously, her eyes widening at his words.

"Yes." He countered mildly. " Have you ever wondered how many times you over rid Mohan's instructions? Have you ever thought twice about trusting me?"

"I...I," Her voice stuttered, her courage failing.

" You used to walk around with a double edged dagger right? Where is it now?" Unconsciously her hand went to her waistband where she used to keep her concealed weapon and truly, it was there no more. Sanskar chuckled. "Mohan gave you something to keep in contact hmm? Where is it?"

Her hand went to her throat, recalling the cold chain that used to hang around it. He held out the same, from it dangled a cold ruby, in front of her eyes.

"Do you remember when I took this off?"

Swara clenched her eyes shut, her hands rising up to cover her ears.

" Stop! Stop it!" She  cried out.

"The truth is bitter, but it is true. You're so badly trapped in now."

He stepped closer, grasping her wrists pulled her hands off her ears. She looked up at him, with an expression of a deer caught in headlights. Her lips trembled as she formed words.

"But, you tried to send me to Mohan, you took a bullet to save me...I.."

"Are you certain I meant it? Perhaps I already knew you were entrapped enough that you won't leave even if I suggested? My vow is to take you to Vajrateerta alive, so shouldn't I be taking effort to safeguard your life?"

Swara took in a rattling breath. Then another and then another. He watched as tears poured from her lashes unceremoniously.

" Then do it, take me to your queen so that she can quench her thirst for revenge." She said then, her tone no longer shaking and her eyes burning once more. "You sure know what she has in store for me. Let her do it. But," she stopped for another breath. "Call the war off. There's no point of unnecessary blood bath now that you have what you wanted."

Her retaliation was too strong for him to handle and the shock broke his concentration. As the enchantment broke, Swara stepped away from him. "Then I too shall see how mistaken I truly was."

With that said, and an extremely loathing glare thrown at him, she fled the scene her skirts blowing after her.

The memory fainted bringing him back to his surroundings. It had been almost a week since and their dynamics with the Bhavas had been increasingly improving. The fact that Sujata or as she was known in present, Kalindi was still fiercely loyal to his mother had some hand in altering her followers' sentiments towards them too. The Bhavas were not staying at the Marutha caves any longer. They were mid rout to the mountains when Magha's patrolling group had captured them. Kalindi had promised to give them passage till the Indra crossing, at the river pass their paths would differ. The Bhavas would continue to the mountains where some more of their scattered communities were found and Sanskaar, Agni and Swara would be able to pass through the Akashanagara borders back to Vajrateerta. Since he had no idea why the borders did not let him enter before and what the situation was like within the walls of the city , Sanskar found the offer agreeable.  

The song ended to a cluster of ringing laughter. Sanskar wondered if she might be among the giggling children, teaching them more of those human melodies. Quickly enough, he admonished himself for the thought. If he was to go through with his plans there was no point in thinking about her.

Swara had already distanced herself, he had hardly seen her in the past days. She choose to stay with the common folk, travelling with the children; while he and Agni had things to discuss with Kalindi.

Crushing the intense longing the thought gave way to; Sanskar decided this was the best way to proceed.  Just the way he has been taught, to protect someone you have to distance them from yourself.

*

The Padmapeeta palace was basically constructed to resemble a lotus. It had many layers of buildings, towers, narrow bridges connecting them, lawns, gardens and glass chambers where orchids of exotic colour were grown hidden in the embrace of cold stones. To a bird the ground plan might seem like many circles, enveloping each other. Amidst all of them, in the dead center of the Padmapeeta was the notorious arena where the spring emulations were held. The towers that surrounded the arena had balconies facing it, offering seats for the nobles and the royals who watched the games. They were seated on different balconies, according to their ranks and also the champions they supported.  On the ground level around the arena sat commoners, the families and friends of men who were pushed into the battle as well as youth looking for a thrill and men deprived of war. 

Since the old king's death, and the battle with Vajrateerta ending with the Vajra's dismiss there had not been any unrest inside the Padmapeeta walls. Although Pratula was not a very kind or generous king; he had instilled fear within people which was enough to keep his reign without riots and bloodshed.

The emulations first begun as a result of one such riot many generations ago. The champions who were sent to fight were the punished leaders of the same coup. Pratula in his times has gone a few steps ahead. With him on the throne, the emulations were a method of unleashing the king's wrath on his presumed enemies. Those who suspected to be involved in plots against him were sent to fight in the deadly battles, those who were his political opponents, were forced to present their own champions.

The emulations were a battle of many fields.  While the champions fought on the obvious arena, the nobles who were responsible for each champion (to a certain level they actually owned the fighters.) locked horns outside the arena. It was not a simple show of sporty spirit, but mostly a battle of life and death to the fighters and a matter of wealth and title to their owners.  Once a champion is defeated, their sponsor too, lost all that they have. The king found it the easiest way to exile most of the strong opponents he had in the Anjani court.

In the mid April that year, when the sky turned the clear shade of  cornflowers and the trees burst in bloom, the Akashanagara poured into the Padmapeeta grounds. The emulations were commencing. Pratula the king of Anjanis, donned in his ceremonial robes of maroon and deep blood red, with black rims and gold work running the edges, stood in his balcony, high above all, the holy lotus torch that was lit to signify the start of that season in his right hand. With his stony hazel gaze he surveyed the crowd below, his eyes lingering on his enemies, sizing up their champions. But his mind was far away, in a time when he was nothing but a prince out casted by his own father.

It had been during an emulation a long ago; he took the first steps towards the throne.  During the season of emulations was Padmapeeta at its weakest. Most of the soldiers are out in the Akashanagara scouting for possible champions to the king's banner and the spies planting themselves on the trails of the nobles who had champions part taking; the interest in national security is minimal. The king himself entered the arena for the last game of the last level, putting his own life in a vulnerable position.

It was during these times Pratula had staged his coup. He had entered the arena himself; flaming his father's insecurities regarding his increasing political power and forcing him to nominate his name. The king had made a mistake by taking the bait and putting his prince to the arena.  From there the journey had been smooth. The king did not realize the smoke rising around him until the flames sprung at his feet. It was this same arena where he killed his father.  

Pratula looked around. Since then, while he used the event to prune out threats from his political field, Pratula had been afraid of the same. Padmapeeta was the same castle of his father's. It still had the same weaknesses. It was not a miracle if someone else chooses his path. He wouldn't be surprised if death faced him someday in this same place. Pratula almost grinned at his next thought. His mother's ancestors would call it the circle of destiny.

*

She could feel the sword throbbing with power as her fingers gripped it's hilt. Suvanna stood straight on the prayer chamber, dressed in ivory rimmed with maroon for the day.  Her hair worked into heavy braids had been piled on the top of her head, fastened with pins topped with rubies and pearls.

She was supposed to pray for her champion's victory. Her lips curled into a sneer. As if the gods had any hand in shaping the events of her life! But yes. The opportunity was invaluable as it gave her a chance to talk with Lakshya right before the emulations.

Inhaling the air thickly perfumed with the smoke issuing from holy flames, her eyes teared from its intensity as they travelled back to the sword clutched in her hand.

She wondered how Lakshya might react to the news when he comes to know how she acquired this weapon. Her eyes widened a little at the thought. She had no plans of letting on that tiny bit of information.  It took her another minute to track where the unwanted through came from. It was the blade shimmering innocently in her hand; the weapon famed to play with the wielder's mind; the legendary elven blade call Aithne.

In the absence of the Crown prince of Vajras his brother wasn't the only thing Suvanna took from his cruise. Aithne had been one of the reasons that led her to the vessel in the first place. The blade, that had power of consuming powers, altering minds, that was the blade she needed for her task.

" will it change him?" a tiny voice questioned from somewhere deep within her mind. Ever since she had taken the control of her body, Ragini as a soul had resigned to the deepest of corners.  Perhaps her all scorching power had something to do with chasing her away. For the tiniest bit of moment Suvanna pitied the girl. Innocent enough to believe in colourful illusions, naive enough to be led on, without regrets. She could not even recall being someone like that herself. But then again, perhaps that blindness had given Ragini the power Suvanna did not possess. She had committed that last deed of darkness Suvanna was unable to accomplish; taking the life of an innocent.

It had blemished her soul beyond repair, taking her sister's life did. It ripped apart a vacuum at the center of her being, creating a cavity within her soul that one with power enough could penetrate in. Janki's death had turned Ragini into a changeling. A long before Annapurna had found her and send Lakshya after her, Suvanna had picked her out.

She sighed answering her own mind.

"Yes. It will change him."

"But I don't want him to change." The tiny voice of Ragini whispered back. "He is a good person."

" Good people can't survive here Ragu," Suvanna soothed her in an understanding tone.

 " Everyone has to change. His time has come."

The doors leading to the prayer room opened and Lakshya strode in, surrounded by the men Suvanna sent to bring him.  

" What is the meaning of this?" He demanded curtly.  

Suvanna said nothing as she lit a lamp to the elven goddess Medha, underneath her giant stone statue.

" I'm supposed to pray for your victory today." Her tone was calm as she replied. Lakshya snorted. Suvanna ignored him, pointing the tip of Aithne to the miniature flick of the lamp. Her eyes studied Lakshya's expression and noted with satisfaction that he did not seemed to recognise the blade. The blade of flames sprung to life as it touched the fire. Suvanna could feel it waking up, its thirst reigniting. The power it unleashed throbbed against her pulse, only blood would calm Aithne now.

In the arena outside Pratula pulled out the royal blade of Anjanis and held its edge against the lotus torch he ignited a moment before.  The atmosphere erupted into cheers.

The emulations begun.

A faint hum of the cheers reached the prayer room as Suvanna handed Lakshya the Aithne.

His eyes widened as he felt the pulse of power from the blade.  She watched it's effect in his eyes as the rhythm of Aithne's pulse matched that of the prince's. She watched the roots of Aithne's charm sink into his mind, coil around his heart and tint his soul anew.

Then she smiled, serenely, viciously and proudly.

" Vijaya bhava!"

*

Notes:

*This is the babytv version of the original Japanese rhyme called Nanatsu no Ko by Ujo Naguji.