Bidding farewell to the newlywed couple, Prince Surya and his small party set forth on their journey North as the first light hit the red terrain. Royals and aristocrats traveling on the same road banned together for their journey back home. Close behind Surya’s party was the entourage of Northern Guild Tantrics, led by Tantric Vidyut, his challenger from the day before. The two parties would take the same road North, till Rakhtaprastha, for a ten-day journey. Beyond that, the sorcerers of the Tantric Guild would continue North to Samrashtra for another ten days. Few noblemen and smaller lords joined them too to make a spirited travel party, bustling with early morning gusto, despite the late activities of the night before.
Soon, the hours passed, and groups parted ways. The excitement began to wear off for both the humans and the beasts they mounted. The horse that Surya rode was a gift from his Uncle, Abhiram, on his twelfth birth anniversary. He had fondly named it Pavan, for wind. That was six years ago, and he had never since parted with his horse, always keeping him by his side for every short or long journey. However, Pavan had never been on an expedition this long and arduous. Surya was a touch worried about the steed's welfare, restricting the horse only to a slow trot, halting for brief rests in between. A carriage followed him, lurching back and forth and sideways, as its wheels rolled over the gravel path covered with red dust. His Uncle and Knight Commander, Abhiram, and Knight Officer Rana rounded off the royal convoy, driving their horses down the path charted by the carriage.
As the group marched ahead, scattered greeneries of the southern Kingdom became rarer and rarer. After few more hours of chugging along the empty road, the travelers only saw barren and flat wasteland as far as their eyes went, with an occasional mound of boulders. The lazy pace of the journey slowed them down, delaying them further.
"There is a well nearby. We will make a rest stop there," Uncle Abhiram alerted the party as he pointed in the direction of the well. He was stocky in built, short in height, and even shorter on temper. His authority towered over any other figure in the Kingdom of Rakhtaprastha, aside from the King. His balding forehead had shone in the frontlines of many battles that he had fought alongside his brother. Now, it shone in the blazing midday sun.
Surya halted his horse and looked back. The driver was sweating through his tunic and was looking sourly at the road ahead.
Guru Briharshi peeked out of the carriage. "We are running behind. If we make pit-stops for every trifle, we will not reach Kurnool by nightfall. We cannot stop unless it is a matter of grave importance."
" It is a matter of grave importance." The Knight Commander, Abhiram, countered. "I see a tree nearby. Let us rest, fill up our water vessels, and feed the horses." The Knight Commander decided for the entire party.
The young Knight Officer, Rana, was amused by the two elderlies bickering and tried his best to hide his snigger. He was a lanky young lad of sixteen but had a natural knack for befriending people, especially young ladies of the court. No one would suspect that it was the first time he had accompanied Surya on an expedition.
Surya jerked the reins of his horse and turned towards the two older men. "If both Uncle and Guruji permit, then let us rest under the tree, but no longer than one sun mark."
Hence decided, the royal entourage made a slight diversion from the path and arrived soon at the spot. The breeze was cooler here and the thick leaves and branches of the tree formed a small canopy, perfect to rest under. Knight Officer Rana dismounted his horse and walked over to the well. It was an old stepwell but had a wheel with a rope tied to a bucket. He immediately went to work.
Surya descended from his horse, Pavan, and once secured, he sauntered over to the hand-dug well. His master remained inside the carriage.
“This well must be centuries old. Do you think it is safe to drink from this?” Surya wondered aloud.
“We are men of Rakhtaprastha, my boy! Waters do not make us sick.” The Knight Commander declared proudly as he moved over to the two youths by the well.
The Prince gave an uncertain smile and, despite all his doubt, collected the water in his repousséd brass vessel. He turned only to find that the party of around half a dozen Tantrics had followed them to the spot. Surya moved past the group on his way to the carriage to seek his master. He flashed a warm smile to Tantric Vidyut, which went unreciprocated.
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“Here is some water, Guruji.” Once inside the carriage, the disciple sheepishly offered his guru the shiny yellow enclosed vessel he was holding. “Though, I know you will consider this a travesty.”
Guru Briharshi glanced at the receptacle in Surya’s hand and scoffed. “We do not need to drink dirt water to prove our might.” He must not have missed the remark Uncle Abhi made earlier.
Surya politely nodded but proceeded to open the lid of the vessel for a sip of the liquid.
“Wait.” The guru interrupted him. “Add this to the water and wait for one sun mark.” He turned and brought out some clear white crystals from his sack. The prince took them in his palm and examined them before giving the guru a questioning look.
“These are crystals from volcanic ashes. They will remove the impurities from the water.”
The Prince seemed fascinated by the tiny white crystals and gazed at them again, before carefully pouring them down into the water.
“Do we have more? We can give some to the others, too.” He asked plainly.
“No.” His Master shot down his noble suggestion. “Use it sparingly. These are rare.”
Guru Briharshi, then, perched his right elbow up on the windowsill, and looked out of the carriage, his chin resting on his palm.
“I believe I know this stretch of the country,” he said, his alert eyes fixed into the distance. “I had heard of an account of a tree ghost, here, from years before.”
“A tree ghost?” The Prince was intrigued.
The Sage nodded slowly and then flashed him a quick enigmatic smile. “I will tell you the story, but are you sure it won’t give you nightmares, my child?”
The Prince chuckled at the unexpected jest. “I do not mind, guruji, so long as they remain inside the nightmare.”
“Very well.” Guru Briharshi began his tale, his eyes shifting with thoughts. “It happened many, many years ago. I had just become the Grand Master at Rakhtaprastha. A young boy fell from a tree in the woods and died in a village somewhere close. The following day, they found the elder sister's body, drowned in the lake. The mother passed away two months later from a broken heart. The father went mad. He started to blame everyone, cursing the villagers for his misery. And then he, too, vanished one day.
"The trees and plants near the village slowly began to perish. The lake dried up. The rains became scantier until it stopped altogether. Then, it was the people’s turn to suffer. The long droughts either killed them or caused them to leave. Soon, the village was deserted. Only the old mud huts remained, which too withered away with time.”
The Prince let out a deep sigh. His Master’s darting eyes gave him a quick glance before turning back to the arid land outside.
“The drought may have affected them further from the lack of resources. This region is far from the affluent cities,” the Prince observed. “But Master…”
“Yes?”
“Why is it called the Tree Ghost?”
“Oh, did I not tell you? It is said that the ghost lives on that tree, you see? Near the well.”
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Soon, it was time to gather their effects and continue on with their journey. Prince Surya appeared out of the carriage and began to walk towards his horse when he caught the eye of Tantric Vidyut, who was watering his horse. The Prince hesitantly approached the tantric.
“Tantric Vidyut. I owe you an apology....for how I acted at the event.” Surya felt guilty over using Mantra incantations at the tourney, although they did prove convenient at the time. He remembered the furious look the tantric gave him as he keeled over from the scream that Surya had conjured. He could have defeated Tantric Vidyut without the Mantra, but it just made the fight quicker. Besides, there was no real peril in using any chant or weapon at the contest. All contestants had obligatory incantations that protected them from grievous harm. Maybe if the youth didn't approach him with such ferocity.... What was the benefit of having so many skills in the inventory if he did not use them? The prince had reasoned with himself, but his heart remained uncertain of his actions. Decisions do not come easy when the heart is laced with guilt.
The tantric continued to feed his horse, not sparing the prince even a glance. Despite the silence, Surya continued, "I used a covert skill to startle you. It was not required, and I should have been more restrained." The prince spoke with an innate naivety, unhearing the boast in his words.
"You speak as if you were the victor." The tantric pointed out astutely, turning to face him at last but still averting his gaze. Standing beside him, Vidyut was even taller than Surya ever imagined, causing the need to look up when speaking to him. His dark curly hair was pulled back tightly into a single braid. He was squinting under the midday sun, the glare bronzing his face and neck.
Surya nodded but did not linger on the matter. He noticed that Vidyut was in no rush to depart.
"If you approve, we would be honored to have you accompany us for the rest of the journey."
Vidyut briefly narrowed his eyes in skepticism. Then, he straightened the saddle of his horse. "Then let us start before the Deccan bandits find us in this deserted road."
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