*******************
“Don’t just blame the father, for he has a demon for a mother too. When he was sick and even on the brink of death, she refused to care for him. Saying that he is the son of the devil; it was the old kaki who nursed him back to health.” With one hour to go until sunrise, Yuvan woke up from his dream to the occasional sobs from the man sitting next to him. The man noticed the boy looking at the unmanly sight and started telling his story. “I’m returning back to my village after fourteen years of jail time. Over a tussle—for a piece of land—I accidentally killed my elder brother. Over these years, nobody has come to visit or even tried to contact me. I know I’m nothing but a curse that brought shame and suffering to my family. But it has been fourteen long years, and I believe, I have paid my dues. I have nowhere to go in this dark sombre world, which I can hardly recognize now.”
Over the years in prison, missionaries came to the jail to convert us, but unlike others, I remained steadfast in my faith. But I liked listening to the stories they used to tell, especially the one about the forgiveness tree. Before my release, I requested that one of the literate jailmates write a letter to my family on my behalf. For my good behaviour, my life imprisonment has been commuted, and I’m getting released soon. I will arrive by today’s train, and if they have forgiven me, tie a white cloth around the olive tree standing next to the station. If they don’t, I won’t disturb them and will move on with the train and with my life. Now the destination is drawing near, and I'm so overwhelmed by my emotions that I am completely out of my mind.
The man's gaze shifted to Yuvan, his voice quivering as he spoke, "Could...," a momentary pause hung in the air, "Could you do me a favour?" He hesitated once more, his eyes searching for any hint of a response from Yuvan, "Would you look for the sign? I am too terrified to even lay my eyes upon it."
Yuvan nodded in understanding and inquired, "But how can you be certain the tree is still standing after fourteen years?"
“It’s a hundred-year-old tree, and it’s still going to be there. Don’t ask any more questions, just look and tell me; I’m fully occupied up here.” The man replied, pointing to his head, and began chanting his prayers.
*******************
A few days earlier.
In the vicinity of the eastern courtyard, on the balcony of the second floor, two senior members were engaged in an informal conversation about the clan leader's choice regarding the handling of the young master.
Oh, had I only conceived of this remedy, I could have elevated my status in the eyes of the leader, thus setting the course for me to attain the esteemed position of a grand elder.
Undoubtedly, esteemed elder, your assumption holds true. The leader might have even appointed you as his deputy, considering you would have eliminated the most substantial barrier standing between our Lord and his goals. ‘Ah, you a pitiable excuse for a man. Cease entertaining such nonsensical thoughts that drain what little intellect you possess, only to regurgitate them into my ears. Your mere presence feels stifling, and I suspect it's tarnishing my own intelligence – perhaps your idiocy is contagious. Were it not for your familial connections, you, who lack the qualifications for even a basic administrative role, wouldn't occupy this position. Consequently, I wouldn't need to degrade myself by grovelling at your feet.’
Well expressed, elder. One should be more appreciative when someone has resolved their most pressing issue.
Absolutely, future esteemed elder.
"Elder, your wisdom is admirable; I hold an affinity for individuals of your calibre. My faction requires more intelligent and devoted individuals like yourself." He conveyed this with a grin on his face.
I'm grateful, my Lord; serving you would be an honour. ‘Dedicated? Do you even know how to spell it?’
He clutched the elder's shoulder, saying, "Come along, let's indulge in some amusement. Your actions have uplifted my spirits, and I'm in high spirits now." And they departed together.
Unknown to them, eyes were watching, ears listening to them keenly. Even if they had noticed, they would have ignored this slave working near them, especially when it was only a child.
Yuvan found himself presented with the opportunity he had been waiting for, one he couldn't afford to overlook. With the information he had gathered, he began laying the groundwork for his long-imagined escape plan from the prison that seemed destined for him. His first priority was to gather more details and devise a way to slip away unnoticed. As the day of the ceremony drew nearer, everyone was expected to put in extra effort. However, in the current situation, if Yuvan were to neglect his duties, it would raise suspicions. To address this challenge, he needed someone to cover for him. With limited options, he resorted to convincing children with the promise of treats from the upcoming feast, the most practical solution he could think of. Using persuasive words, he approached naive children, appealing to their greed and making an offer that was hard to refuse.
On the day before their departure, he casually boarded the carriage under the pretence of tending to cleaning duties. The guards, preoccupied by the bustling activity around them, didn't detect anything out of the ordinary. The commotion of people coming and going with their tasks shielded the fact that Yuvan never exited the carriage.
The carriage was surprisingly spacious, much larger than the humble hut he had been residing in since his arrival. Inside, it was tastefully furnished with tables, chairs, and a chiffonier, resembling a chamber suitable for a young lord. Neatly arranged at the back corner, a collection of coffers awaited, intended to store the young lord's possessions. Among them, one coffer cleverly contained a hidden compartment beneath its empty surface. Yuvan managed to persuade one of the labourers to include an extra coffer of his choice. He discreetly climbed into this particular coffer, finding ample room to lie down comfortably and hide. With patience, he waited.
This was a gamble. Yuvan of the past is not one to take chances, nor is the present one. But in his current situation, there is no other alternative. Either live a life of slavery or take this gamble and undo the shackles of fate or at least die trying. Whatever the outcome, he will accept without any regret.
The "to be or not to be" dilemma wasn't Yuvan's philosophy. He wasn't a tragic hero lamenting the unfairness of his fate. His previous existence was about pushing himself to the limits, confronting insurmountable challenges, and persisting until he was mere steps away from his objective. Failures along the journey didn't matter as long as he had given his all.
In a realm replete with boundless magical potential, where absolute freedom was attainable, languishing as a slave was an affront for Yuvan. Excuses like talent, luck, resources, and connections were feeble justifications for failure. What truly counted was an unwavering determination and an extraordinary mindset, ready to do whatever was necessary to achieve success. Consequences and results held little significance; his new aspiration was to ascend to godhood.
Failure might be inevitable, but choosing to combat it was his resolve. If he faltered, that would mark the end, but not without a fight.
Day 6
The carriage continued its journey well beyond the borders of civilization, venturing toward a destination where destiny held sway. Unaware of the events unfolding beyond, Ethan found himself with little to occupy his time. He shifted the curtains aside and peered outside.
As the trees rolled by, he caught a glimpse of the mountain standing out against the backdrop of the rising sun.
Noticing Ethan's gaze fixed on the outside world, one of the escorts, his face pale, drew closer. "Please rest assured, young master. We will have passed the mountain within two days. It's a safe area without wild creatures, and you can spend the night peacefully near the creek."
Ethan's irritation flared at the mention of resting near the creek. "What do you mean, rest by the creek? What about the inn reserved for me? And how many times must I remind you to address me as Lord? Do you assume I'm leaving for the academy indefinitely, that I won't return?"
The escort instantly regretted his attempt to placate the ill-mannered youth. "My apologies, Lord. I meant no disrespect. I assumed you were informed; this region is uninhabited, with no nearby inns. Hadn't the great elder apprised you?" Seeking to divert the blame, he mentioned Geoffrey's name.
"Geoffrey! I'll teach that common-born a lesson. 'I've arranged everything for your comfort,' he had claimed." Annoyed, Ethan drew the curtains shut and retreated.
Six days had passed in constant travel, nights spent in modest lodgings. Left with little else to do, he honed his meditation skills and reviewed techniques passed down from his father throughout the journey. He endeavoured to familiarize himself with the magical artefacts inherited from his family, aiming to make a favourable impression at the academy's opening ceremony. He also attempted to work with the scroll, yet found it futile until certain conditions were met. ‘It's akin to being stranded on a deserted island with an invaluable treasure.’ The journey's challenges grew more daunting with each passing day, and confinement within the carriage exacerbated the difficulty. He rose, opening the curtains again, only to find that none of the escorts stepped forward. ‘We'll only respond if he calls for us,’ they silently agreed.
Uninterrupted, Ethan directed his gaze at the expanse of deep blue sky, lost in thought. ‘This whole journey has an unsettling aura, like a foreboding of impending disaster. It feels as if some sinister presence is constantly watching over me.’
*******************
The station came into view, and the man's anxiety soared to new heights. He lay flat, looking at the sky, “Did you see it?” he asked Yuvan.
"No," came Yuvan's straightforward response. The disappointment on the man's face momentarily shifted, as a glimmer of hope emerged, prompted by the recollection of a tale involving a tree adorned with white ribbons.
“What do you see?” the man asked again.
"I see a tree near the station," Yuvan began, "it's recently charred and still emitting smoke."
The answer caught the man off guard, leaving him motionless. His eyes darted back and forth as he processed the unexpected information. "It can't be true!" he exclaimed, rising to his feet. A curse escaped his lips as he directed it at Yuvan. “I shouldn’t have allowed you to sit next to me; I knew you were an achhut.” With the train nearing a halt, the man approached the platform's edge, a whirlwind of emotions crossing his countenance. “You don’t want to see me, huh? If I hadn’t killed that baseborn, he would have ended me. Would you be happy then? Ah! You won’t see? I'll ensure you will hear about me, for one last time." Uttering these words, the man leapt head-first onto the platform.
“Oh, Teri!”, "The poor man just slipped!" The crowd's collective cry echoed through the air, prompting the swift response of the coolies who rushed forward, guided by the station master's instructions. Such accidents were not uncommon for those who weren't cautious enough, especially among the top riders. The body was carefully removed from the platform, a sombre ritual that seemed almost routine. Conversation about the incident lingered among the crowd for a while, a temporary disruption before life resumed its well-worn path. In the midst of it all, Yuvan found himself contemplating, “Is this the worth of a man’s life?”
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Despite the early hour, the station remained abuzz with activity. Passengers disembarked, and new travellers stepped onto the platform. With the flourish of a green flag, the train bid farewell to the station, its wheels carrying it away. Among the newcomers, questions about the recent death circulated, met with responses of genuine sympathy from fellow passengers. Engaged in these exchanges, they seamlessly melded into the bustling crowd. Yuvan took the opportunity to inquire about the burnt tree, and he was informed that it was attributed to the lightning god—a being known to strike down those who dared to stand out, especially during the late hours of the night.
*******************
Inside the clan castle, the bureaucrat’s office.
"Chief, you're well aware of the protocol. We're obligated to report this to the higher-ups. However, taking into account the commendable efforts of your people for the upcoming ceremony and the current disposition of the great elder, we'll show some leniency toward your unfortunate circumstances," one of the clerks remarked while nonchalantly fiddling with a pouch of coins.
Your village will receive only half of the usual provisions for the next week. You're dismissed, and make sure this doesn't happen again.
"Lord, we express our profound gratitude for your understanding and mercy. Your kindness will always be remembered," the village chief responded with a bow before exiting the office.
"Hmm, easy money indeed. Here's your share." Extracting several mana stones, he tossed the pouch to his companion.
"By the way, what happened to the fellow, you know... the butler?" his partner inquired as he counted the contents.
He'll survive, though he'll lose an eye. He'll take his leave and retreat to the countryside, settling down with the hush money we provided. Apparently, there was a mana crystal attached to that gold chain.
Impressive! So, we won't have to worry about any incident reports?
Correct.
Why did he pay him off? Even without the money, who would dare to file a complaint against the great elder?
The great elder’s mother was of low-birth, concubine to one of the elders of the clan. That might be the reason why he has a soft spot for the baseborns.
So he wasn't of pure blood, that clarifies things. I always wondered how he could bow down to a 13-year-old, even if the child was the young master.
From a humble birth to the esteemed position of great elder, and now he's surpassed everyone in the clan in wealth. He's even wealthier than the Lord.
How did you find out?
He's been amassing his fortune since yesterday. It's staggering; no one knows why.
Perhaps he's planning a significant purchase. When I'm upset, I tend to indulge in expensive items to console myself.
Oh, really? Let me see.
What's with these figures?! With this amount, you could practically buy the entire clan.
Beyond the shadowed expanse of the Dark Mountain,
The convoy had arrived at the creek, establishing their camp and arranging for dinner.
A knock echoed.
"Lord, dinner is ready. Would you prefer to dine outside or within the carriage?"
"Leave me be! I have my own provisions. Do not disturb me again."
A little further away from the camp, Amidst the veil of valley darkness,
"How many?" emerged the question from the shadows, followed by a burly figure carrying two formidable axes on his back. His stance was vigilant, every muscle coiled like a predator ready to pounce.
"Seven in total. Two are inside the carriage, and five are positioned outside," a response came from the treetops. She was clad in black leather armour, rendering him nearly invisible to the untrained eye.
There levels?
Five outside, mere mortal guards, and on the inside, there's one mortal and another in their early stages.
They entrust the safeguarding of their young master to low-ranking mortals. At times, it becomes a challenge to discern which side upholds righteousness and which harbours a demonic faction. Regardless, this job promises to be lucrative for us.
Notify the others to assume their positions and await my signal. We shall strike at midnight when most are asleep, catching them off-guard.
"Huh!" He glanced toward the rustling leaves.
What is it, sir?
"Nothing of significance." He replied with a hint of nonchalance.
"Very well, instruct everyone to be prepared and vigilant." As she departed, he pondered, "Did I catch a glimpse of movement?"
A few miles behind them,
A shadow glided through the forest, arriving before a group of stalwart warriors bearing the emblem of Celestial Hawk upon their chests. Agustin Verne, the commander of this assembly, stepped forth and enquired, "Gwen, have you spotted our targets?"
Yes, Commander. Seven individuals, not from the Naga clan. Likely mercenaries of the demonic faction. Six possess power at the beginning of the second chakra, while the seventh, seemingly their leader, eludes my detection.
He must be formidable. Did he discern your presence?
Negative, Commander. I'm among our clan's most adept trackers. My clan's concealed techniques cannot be perceived unless specifically sought.
I am aware, yet we must not underestimate our adversaries, especially when they bear a demonic nature. Their methods are unknown. This task shall be arduous; we confront an elite mercenary team. As soon as they act, we shall strike without delay. We cannot wait for the child's demise. Pursuing them after the deed is done would prove difficult.
Commander, were we not instructed to await the child's fate?
Given the circumstances, this approach is not tenable. Our primary objective is to apprehend the Nagas or expose their involvement. Satisfying a minor clan leader is not our priority.
Understood, Commander.
Inform the others. Upon their attack, we move forward. Eliminate those you encounter, striving to capture a couple alive when their numbers thin. I shall engage their leader personally.
At the Creek Side Camp,
With their dinner concluded, the guards settled down for a brief period of rest, leaving only two to keep watchful eyes.
"If we hurry back, do you think we might still get a taste of the ceremonial delicacies? I wish I had been there yesterday."
Sigh “me too."
Swoosh!!
Suddenly, a bone-chilling sound pierced the air. "Ugh!" An arrow materialized from the shadows, finding its mark in an escort's eye, its impact igniting a fierce blue fire.
"PROTECT THE LORD!"
"WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!"
"DEFEND YOURSELVES!"
Screams resounded throughout the valley.
The mercenary captain signalled for one of his companions to target the carriage.
"Hmm, just as I suspected. The shadow wasn't a mere illusion. A group of formidable cultivators is rapidly closing in from the east. They'll be upon us in moments."
"Ah, the predator becomes the prey."
"The enemy is upon us! kill the brat quickly and retreat! I'll stand against the oncoming attackers." Jack turned to confront the encroaching foes from the east, leaving his back exposed.
"Oh no! It's the Celestial Hawk! Their numbers outweigh ours!" one of the mercenaries exclaimed.
The captain contemplated privately, ‘hmm! Did I bite more than I can chew? It’s not worth the money. If I stay, I would have to sacrifice at least my right hand.’ “Apologies, comrades, but it's not a gamble I'm willing to take.”
“Their captain is running away, and here I thought he was a valiant soul ready to face the storm alone.” Darryl jeered.
"Such is the way of the demonic faction—always prioritizing self-preservation, no matter the cost. He analysed the situation and swiftly made a choice in his favour," Heather concurred.
"Shall we pursue him?" a question arose.
"No!" the commander's order rang out. "He's likely harbouring a trick or two up his sleeve. Concentrate on the others. Our escort team has been nearly eradicated."
Captain!!
Nooo!!
Don’t leave us!
Now, it was the mercenaries' screams that echoed throughout.
"I'm sorry, friends, but the odds are stacked against us. Worry not; I'll avenge each one of you. The individual who hired us won't elude my vengeance…"
"Hmm!" Jack glanced over his shoulder, sensing a sudden surge of energy emerging from the opposite direction.
Kaboom!
With a thunderous explosion, flames engulfed the carriage, their roaring tumult drowning out all other sounds.
Far removed from the clan headquarters,
Within the confines of his concealed sanctuary, Geoffrey anxiously awaited news that held the potential to reshape his entire existence. His very existence hinged upon the impending revelation.
Having meticulously gathered all available resources within a single day, he secretively departed from the clan early that morning.
Tsk! I should have known better; as long as there is a human factor is involved, there is bound to flaws. It was my mistake to be careless. I hope that my blunder doesn't impede our grand design. Should they delve into my past endeavours, the repercussions could prove dire.
Hmm! It’s past midnight; the brat should have encountered their assault by now.
"Arrgh!" Geoffrey clutched his chest, a searing agony engulfing him, its intensity escalating exponentially.
What sorcery is this? What is happening to me?
Arrrr! Arrgh! This excruciating pain, a forbidden curse has been cast upon me!
I must contain it… “Arrgh!” He took out a knife and stabbed his thigh; the pain had caused him to regain some of his composure. He got into a meditative position and channelled his inner Qi around the heart, containing the curse.
Hah!... gaaahh!
It’s..It’s over for now, but it will strike me again when I lose control. I need to remove the curse soon; trouble keeps finding me one after the other.
The brat must have expended the last vestiges of his life force to bestow this curse upon me. But who taught him in this forbidden art? And why target me? His ire should have been directed at the clan lord. There's no conceivable way he could have learned of my involvement. Moreover, I played a peripheral role in orchestrating the tragic fate he suffered. Could his enmity towards me be so potent? No, no, no; the scenario defies reason. Unless, in his dying moments, someone deliberately pronounced my name, implicating me.
Regardless, I'll await the news to circulate first. I'm curious about the reactions from the involved clans before I decide on my next steps. In the meantime, I'll concentrate on resisting this curse, ensuring I endure until my main body returns. Losing my attainments would be a setback I can't afford.
Within the sanctum of Silver Fang, the chamber of life,
"Lord, the flame has extinguished," Edmund transmitted the message.
Very well. Await my further directives. And, as a precaution, employ your jalavidya (illusionary-tantra) to veil our situation temporarily.
"As you wish, my lord," Edmund complied, moving toward the row of lanterns on the wall. He positioned himself under the sole unlit lantern labelled 'Ethan' and readied his tantra technique. However, he detected an oddity—a faint remnant of a more advanced tantra, evidently performed on the wall at some point. His familiarity with a similar technique allowed him to sense its presence. Deciding not to delve into this anomaly, he recalled the rumours surrounding the former clan lord's demise due to his master's actions. Wary of potential risks, he chose not to probe further. Executing his own tantra, he created the illusion of a lit lantern and stood prepared for any forthcoming instructions.
*******************
At approximately six in the morning, the train pulled into Lahore station. Much like Yuvan, a majority of the disembarking passengers were present for the young revolutionary slated for execution that day. Despite the grim circumstances, a prevailing belief in their esteemed leader's ability to intervene and spare the young man from the gallows persisted among the crowd.
Yuvan, along with others, reached the front gate, their scepticism lingering despite the grim news that had circulated. As they approached the jail where their revered hero was confined, the sight of a substantial gathering of protesters outside confirmed the distressing truth they had heard. The young revolutionary, a mere twenty-three years old, and his two comrades had already met their demise. The Imperial Government, seemingly to quell the potential for an uprising, had carried out their execution the previous night. The lifeless bodies had been subjected to a gruesome fate—disassembled and crammed into sacks, which were surreptitiously transported out of the jail precinct to the nearby riverbank. Two holy men awaited them there, expeditiously performing the final rituals before consigning the remains to the flames of a sombre funeral pyre, shrouded in the eerie stillness of the night. With dawn threatening to break out, they hurriedly put out the roaring blaze and hurled the charred remains into the river.
The streets erupted with public fury upon learning of the remarkably premature execution of the most celebrated figure in British India, a prominence even eclipsing that of the esteemed great leader of the time. This event reverberated globally, prompting voices from the farthest corners of the earth to denounce it as 'one of the most heinous acts ever committed by the British Labour Government'. The public's indignation spared no one, not even the revered great leader, who faced reproach for his perceived inaction and statements such as 'The government unquestionably possessed the authority to carry out the execution of these individuals'. It marked an unprecedented juncture for the great leader, as he encountered the watchful gaze and criticism of his own people, and the tarnish of dishonour clung to his reputation. In the heart of an impassioned young man, the ember of revenge began to smoulder.
*******************
Returning to the creek,
Kaboom!!
Startled, he turned to witness the flames billowing from the carriage.
The young brat must be gone for sure. Hehehe!
I'll make that lowborn pay tenfold for all my troubles and the lives of my comrades. If he dares ignore my demand, I'll expose him as the mastermind behind the attack.
"Commander?!" Darryl's voice brimmed with concern, his thoughts echoing the commander's own. "Fear not, our mission is an absolute success. With their captain's treachery, they'll spill like a fountain. That's exactly what we need."
"Surrender now! Your lives will be spared!" The commander's authoritative declaration echoed. "Eliminate any who resist!"
The mercenaries yielded, dropping their arms and kneeling with raised hands—a complete surrender.
Lord, the mission is a total success; we have zero causality and have completed every task. This is the perfect mission I have ever done, It's a flawless success, all thanks to the commander...
Hold your applause; the curtain hasn't fallen yet.
What?!
A door from the blazing carriage swung open unexpectedly.
Hmm, not quite every objective is achieved, it seems.
A charred figure stumbled out, bearing a face consumed by flames; his eyes remained untouched. Though hard to recognize, all knew who it was.
"Ugh, the stench of singed flesh and hair," Gwen muffled her nose.
Gwen, is that your description of a hot heartthrob?
"Seriously, Darryl? I mean really? At such a time.” She was furious.
"Oh, he's probably wearing a fire-resistant artefact. Privileges of being born with a silver spoon. And you are not Darryl, so don’t play with fire.” Heather quipped.
Then, how did he end up charred?
Probably a lower-grade artefact, providing only just enough protection from the explosion.
Though luck!
Or good luck?
"Ahem! Fear not, young master. We hail from the Celestial Hawk, sworn to protect you. We'll escort you to your clan safely. Our might ensures no assailant dares approach," Alan consoled the boy.
No!
No?
Advancing one step, the boy croaked, "The academy!"
"Huh!" The commander's raised brow mirrored his astonishment.
He tried to take one more step and collapsed.
"Commander! Should we finish him off?" Darryl questioned.
No! We don’t know who might be watching us.” Saying that, he looked towards the mountain peak, “Besides, killing a child is not my cup of tea.”
Tend to the child. Camp here tonight; we depart for the academy come morning.
Won't we return him to his clan, my lord?
No, as the boy desires—we will go to Rudrashila. I'm intrigued by his courage. Let's see if he survives.
Dispatch reports to the clan post-interrogation.
"Your wish, commander." Darryl bowed, heading to the captives, his thoughts whispering, "Enjoy your last night commanding. By morning, your title will be stripped for defiance. Even if you obeyed, the outcome would still remain the same—it’s all preplanned."
Far away, atop a mountain ash tree, a figure watched the whole scene with his arms crossed.
Did he sense me? He is already this strong.
"Hmm! I'm well aware, no need to remind me." A self-directed murmur preceded the figure's vanishing into thin air.