The secret tunnel carved into the cliffside beneath the ancient monastery was a narrow, winding passage. As the monks stepped through the doorway led by Vrishaketu, they felt the temperature drop noticeably. The air grew still and musty, filled with the scent of damp stone and decay.
“We have been given a divine chance to relive this life,” said Vrishaketu.
“Glory to the divine,” the monks spoke in unison. Most of them were relieved with the unexpected turn of events especially when they were all prepared to give up their life to fight against the darkness that had encroached them.
While they were admist chanting and reinforcing the spiritual array, Vrishaketu had awoken them and asked them to follow him. They silently obeyed their master.
The monks walked carefully behind the head monk. Only Aparajita remained behind to stand guard against the hidden doorway. Vrishaketu had left a spiritual orb that erected a temporary array protecting the doorway. Aparajita volunteered to aid the orb with his spiritual energy for a while.
The other monks had started their downward journey. The tunnel sloped gently downwards, following the natural contours of the cliff's interior. Its floor was uneven, with patches of moss and slick algae clinging to the stones. In some places, the walls had crumbled slightly, leaving small piles of gravel and loose rocks scattered on the ground.
Every few meters, narrow, round holes punctuated the stone walls. These openings, just large enough for a hand to pass through, allowed thin beams of light to filter into the tunnel, which would cast faint, eerie patterns on the ground. Presently, the openings were dark, reflecting the darkness outside. Vrishaketu gestured with his hand and spiritual arrays formed on the openings preventing any of the darkness that was spreading outside from seeping in.
The openings also provided ventilation, letting in occasional gusts of fresh air from the outside. Despite this, the air within the tunnel remained thick with moisture, and a persistent musty smell lingered, a mix of wet stone, earth, and the faint, sweet odour of mold.
“The monastery would be destroyed by the demon army, Venerable One,” said one of the monks.
The monks had used their spiritual energy to create small glowing orbs that lit their way. These translucent balls of light floated in the air beside them as they walked slowly behind the head monk.
“The monastery is where the monks are,” said Vrishaketu simply.
Here and there, small patches of green algae grew on the walls, thriving in the damp, dark environment. The algae glistened in the dim light, like tiny emeralds embedded in the rock, hinting at the moisture that seeped through the stone.
“Why are we escaping, Venerable One?” asked another monk.
"I was enlightened by a gracious soul," said Vrishaketu. "I had only thought of fighting against the evil that is set upon us. I didn't realise we could do more to avert this crisis by staying alive and seeking support outside of the monastery."
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
"Thank you my brothers," continued Vrishaketu. "You have shown courage in a very trying time. My brothers who have returned to aid us, remember that it is partly due to you all that we now survive."
"Did the gods come to help us?" asked a monk cautiously.
"Whoever is helping us in such a situation," commented another, "I would consider them a god."
Vrishaketu smiled.
"But why is the demon lord Raktabija attacking us, Venerable One?" asked another monk.
"Yes, Venerable One," chimed in a few more. "We would like to know too."
The tunnel wound its way down, narrowing in some places where the ceiling lowered, forcing the monks passing through to duck their heads. So, the monks stopped talking for sometime.
Vrishaketu was silent for a while. His eyes seemed to still and moving at the same time as if he was reliving the memories passed down to him by his predecessors.
“Raktabija was born into an minor demon clan,” said Vrishaketu. “When he was young he was mostly abused for being weak and frail. He often used to escape to Bhu-loka. And sometimes he helped out humans in need."
"This continued for enough time that the local populace started a small shrine for him thinking he is a god," said Vrishaketu. "As the news of this new god spread, the gods grew curious and the demon clans grew restless. Both perceived the new god as a threat."
Some monks nodded.
"Then what happened, Venerable One?" asked a monk getting impatient to know further.
"Raktabija however was clueless about the antagonism he had created. One day the local populace had arranged a festival in his honour. The gods descended to discredit him. The demons had come to wreck havoc against the mortals worshipping him "
Some monks now held their breath.
"Then what happened, Venerable One?" asked a monk who was fully immersed into the tale.
"In front of his worshippers, Raktabija was revealed to be a demon. The worshippers felt cheated and lost faith in him. The gods mocked him for being an imposter. The demons reviled him for forsaking his identity."
"What did he do then, Venerable One?" some monk asked.
"He made a terrible vow," said Vrishaketu. "To become invincible against the gods who mocked him, the demons who looked down on him and the humans who had lost faith. A terrible vow that made him penance so severe that even the gods never dared to perform it."
"What was this penance, Venerable One?" asked a monk.
"It's a penance where you are constantly exposed to fire from all four sides and the sun scorches you constantly from the top. The Penitence of the Five Fires," said Vrishaketu.
"Raktabija willing withstood such harsh conditions for a thousand years," continued Vrishaketu. "His skin has burnt up by the end, the demon skin that's usually thick and sturdy. He was in a pitiable state, reduced to a pile of bones with barely any flesh but he did not give up."
"And then, Venerable One?" another monk asked.
"He gained the boon that made him invincible," said the head monk, "and he unleashed his rage against the worlds, he subdued the demons and become the commander of the demon army, he constantly wrecked havoc on Bhu-loka and fought against the gods, driving them into a constant state of panic with his powers."
"This monastery was one of the last strongholds left for him to conquer," said Vrishaketu. "It was also the place where centuries back his shrine was erected by the people."
"When he attacked the monastery the last time, the gods sought the help of the Cardinal Relic to banish him to the underworld," continued Vrishaketu. "Now, he has gained the power of darkness and has come twice as powerful to complete his vengeance."
The monks feel silent for a while thinking about the tale they just heard.
Aparajita heard the tale as well using his spiritual powers while struggling to channel his spiritual energy into the orb. The orb left behind from l by Vrishaketu started to dim and flicker. This was his cue to leave. He stopped pouring his spiritual energy and took a moment to steady himself. The spiritual orb disappeared.
Aparajita started walking down the tunnel. He turned back one last time before he lost sight of the hidden entrance. His eyes widened. The entrance was protected by a cosmic astral projection. It was in the form of a divine sword hovering in the air, with a golden hilt and a radiant and resplendent aura.