WITH three days passed, the trail of screams and shouts had lessened to that of gurgle from the demon’s mouth. His voice had broke but nonetheless did he seem to be in pain. His eyes had rolled to the back of his head, and were it not for his mouth noises the others would have surely thought him perished.
The animals had avoided their presence, afraid of Nakthaḥm. It looked as if even the trees were keeping their distance as the path gradually became wider. The path without their noticing had over the days morphed from dirt to stone and with that change there seemed to be some upkeep in maintenance. With the trees having spread farther, there was also a greater degree of sunshine from above, but also at times a downpour from the monsoons that they had mostly forgotten about since entering the forest.
Tūmbṃār dragged Nakthaḥm behind. He along with the rest of the group could not get a night’s rest. But now they seemed a little glad the shouts had softened even though the gurgle was itself quite irritating. The boy however cared little for rest, for even with the shouting he kept to meditating within his mind, affixing his concentration upon Lūshhaḥ. There was a mantra his teacher had given him some time ago, but he did not think it would come to much use, at least till now. Whether it would yield any results in the short period they had, only time would tell.
The walls upon their sides undulated for some time, yet steadily rising until they came once more level with the ground. As they prodded deeper into the path, the roots of the trees began to stick out and interlock with one another to create a fence-like fixture beside the stones. Atop them grew a great host of varied flowers bloomed: jasmine, marigold, lilies, and even tree-flowers like jarul and red vanda.
The glowing mushrooms had also disappeared but with the flowers taking their place and the darkness of the forest already dissipated, they had little worry in following the path.
They were led down a steep slope onto a winding road that led into a large clearing where rested a meadow of the flowers that had guided them with their accompanying trees. Yet they could see that the way the flowers and trees were arranged, made it impossible for it to have occurred naturally. And as they expected, when they had come to the center of the clearing they could see a grove of seven trees surrounding a small banyan tree that was planted within a wide circular plot. It stood not higher than the trees surrounding it but in time it would grow to be as large as any of the other trees of the forest. The meadow cut off a few furlongs from that central point and in its place were leaves affixed to the scarce undergrowth, facing toward the grove.
They were indeed getting close to the domain of the Mrigūhvha, having found what must have been a sacred site of theirs.
The girl approached the leaves and tried to poke them, before Aiṛth caught hold of her hand. The girl cocked her head at the priestess who sighed.
“You should not touch those,” said Aiṛth; “it is a sacred place for whoever made this site, you would not want the spirits to get mad at you again, would you?”
She quickly shook her head and ran out from the spot. A strong breeze then blew in from the west, scattering petals and leaves, except the ones that lay upon the undergrowth. Rain clouds could be seen coming quickly from that direction, and without a moment’s waste they quickly made past the meadow, hoping to seek shelter under the forest roof.
----------------------------------------
Night had come, and as they feared the gurgling sound still made it difficult for them to sleep. They had found a space not far off the path that had a branching trail connected to the main road, as if placed their for their convenience. The rain had let up not long ago, and above stood the shining Moon and her countless sisters twinkling all about unobstructed by the forest roof.
But what to do about Nakthaḥm? They still could not approach him, lest he tear off their limbs. He had become like a rabid dog and at times his mouth would even in foam. They could now also hear his stomach growl loud and bellow itself in rhythm with the sounds of the creatures.
Sanyhaḥmān and Aiṛth had both tried to feed him, the former who tried to chuck food into his mouth, but every time they did so, Nakthaḥm would chomp at it and then quickly regurgitate what he had swallowed and vomit it out with great degree of blood. This frightened the priestess. So much so, that she prayed very fervently for hours upon end, with no gap or break in her recitations. The group did notice something peculiar from this. That if her voice had ever synchronized with the demon’s gurgles he would shut his mouth, close his eyes, and remain silent as if listening to her words.
Yet seldom did this occur and that too for only tens of seconds before he would go back as he was before, either wailing or now, gurgling.
Now Tūmbṃār had gone into the nearby woods, to forage for food and other things, but to also find a space where he could in silence meditate. He put his legs in the lotus position, with his back erect, and silently chanted the mantra within his head as he did with all the ones given to him by the sage his teacher.
It seemed to be of no use.
The sounds of crickets, the murmurs of the trees, the scampering of the animals, the touch of the light breeze, the smell of the flowers, the taste of the cool air, and even the blackness covering his closed eyes seemed all a distraction from which he could not divert his attention. Even the worries of the oath, and having to confront this before his master weighed heavy upon his mind. His concentration would break in no less than a few minutes, and he would gasp for air, having not realized that he almost stopped breathing, something that was not essentially bad in its own right, but could nonetheless be dangerous if not attended to with care.
“Why had Lūshhaḥ come all those times before, unwarranted and even frighteningly so?” he said to himself.
But now when Tūmbṃār, called upon him, the Light would not show, not even give a sign of his presence. What happened to the Light’s words that said he would rest within Tūmbṃār’s heart, ever beside him, even when he should not know it? That awe Tūmbṃār felt, when he rendered supplications within the cave, was very much real and he knew it. The others indeed had seen him do so as well. Yet the presence he had felt before was now so far away, as to have seemingly never been there since the beginning.
The higher beings seemed to him to be very fickle.
As he mulled over this, he heard a rustle from the bushes. He went to inspect it but found no one there. He did however see some jewellery, wrought out of gold, and dimly shining gems. The sight and luster of it, enamored him and while he would not usually care for such things, this was unlike anything he had ever seen before. His hand reached for it and just as he was about to touch it, he heard a voice from behind. Be careful with your desires, said the voice and he immediately turned behind to see if it was who he thought.
But he saw no one there.
Then he turned his head back to the jewels and oddly the luster of what was there seemed to have faded, looking no more than just fine ornaments. He could very well tell someone was hiding and watching him. With jewellery like this, they could not have been ordinary individuals.
He took them in hand, foraged for some wood and food, and walked back to the others. The girl had already gone asleep on Aiṛth’s lap while Sanyhaḥmān slept by a tree. Iḷēhaḥ and Feyūnhaḥ were still awake, who were at the time eating, and he dumped the items he carried by the fire; they were very surprised at the ornaments he brought back. They however did not say anything (not that they could), and went about their business as usual.
The boy sat by Vrihkhaḥ and looked over to the demon who was still in his catatonic state, gurgling and now foaming. The boy’s eyes started to become heavy from lack of sleep. It was no use; he would not be able to meditate anymore for that night. And he dozed into a slumber, falling onto the soft orange-white coat of the wolf.
For that night, Aiṛth strung her veena and played a gentle melody on it. Her prayers seemed to do little, but perhaps her song would soothe Nakthaḥm and maybe the others as well.
> It was a land far away,
> Where the wind blew in sway;
> There beyond its scenic burrows,
>
> Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
>
> And golden-lighted furrows:
> Rested a man of resolute temper,
> Yet weak endeavor.
> All wished to see him conquer,
> As was befit for one in power,
> But he cared not for such things,
> For hardly did he revel in glory.
> His heart was covered in myriad strings,
> Unable to be consumed even when hoary.
> Peace of the kind that all wished in truth,
> But few had ever obtained in all their mirth.
> The days passed as the man grew older,
> And he had not a heir to secure his domain,
> So his ministers fearing the doom come closer,
> Sought many lands and neighbors for a suitor.
> Precious gifts and many envoys were sent hither and tither,
> But not a single one would give their King a chance,
> And they grew dismayed very soon after.
> To grace them with his presence: even just a glance,
> Was all that they yearned and desired,
> For solace for them could not be obtained any other way.
> The man came know of what all had transpired,
> And he at last relented to all that they had to say.
> Many princesses did he thereafter meet,
> But they cast him aside for he was little of deed;
> On and on did it continue for long after,
> And the peace the man held in his mind quickly did shatter.
> One should then question if he had resilience at all,
> For his constitution to be affected so greatly,
> Now utterly left with no resolve.
> For a time he had heard naught lately,
> Yet it would so happen that a call was made;
> That a princess in a far land sought this man now grayed.
> The chariots were cast and he made to his appointment,
> But little did he suspect that tests were laid for enjoinment!
> To collect swell jewels from the corners of the land,
> Given in ages past to descendants by Gods grand.
> Many had tried and perished in the trials,
> And so they last called the man who was far from ideal.
> To prove his zeal to the princess and her family,
> He strode forth into harsh conditions much gaily.
> He sought each of the corners and fought terrible monsters,
> Wrought from the lust garnered by the jewels’ luster.
> Once they were like Men who ruled with great accord,
> But now so lowly a state they were to be rent with a sword.
> Each trial brought him closer to doom,
> As his body was torn with much gloom.
> Assailed from arm to leg to head to toe,
> He bled from his cuts and waned in his soul.
> Having felled the last beast and collected all the jewels,
> He had little strength left to bring them to his faithful.
> Yet he held to them nonetheless and climbed atop his horse,
> And with a great gallop it strode to the kingdom in remorse.
> After many days and many nights still sorely afflicted,
> He arrived to their domain with the jewels collected.
> He fell at their presence unable to bear any more,
> Releasing them from his hand having well endured.
> The princess wept beside the fallen,
> For a worthy king he was that now was certain.
> Hope was not lost however,
> For the princess in time would show her valor:
> To bring back her betrothed who fell to perpetual sleep,
> In a story to be told of her great hardships.
“What song is this?” asked Iḷēhaḥ. “’Tis quite different from your prayer-like songs, not that I mind. It was pleasant and it seems even Nakthaḥm thinks—or thought so.”
“It was a portion from a tale I heard as a child,” said Aiṛth. “I cannot say whether it was a true story, but it is one I hold dearly to myself—one which the high priest had given to me.”
And her tone turned somber.
“You needn’t speak of it Aiṛth if it ails you,” said Feyūnhaḥ. “Whatever the case maybe, you’ll eventually find out his intentions. So don’t worry yourself over it. We, after all, have to care for Nakthaḥm,” and the demon went back to gurgling. “Hah! Perhaps there’s sense in him left!”
The priestess laughed. “Aye! I have faith in Tūmbṃār,” she said as she looked to the sleeping boy. “I did not trust him once, but I shall trust him now. I hope the Light of That One answers his prayer.”
----------------------------------------
The following day, after what was a lackluster night of sleep for most, they continued back on the path. The air was now a lot more humid. Grass crept into the trail, poking out between the slivers of stone. Some flowers were also intermixed in between them, but were all trampled over, if not by the group then certainly by the board the demon rested upon.
This time Tūmbṃār had let Vrihkhaḥ drag him, while he stayed atop, meditating again. And yet while one would expect him to be in deep concentration, as like many days before, he could barely keep his mind still. He felt it much easier when he did this under the presence of his teacher, for those were times where there were few worries.
It was still quite dark, as the sun slowly rose. The trees had taken back to their original spots, and the path had once more become narrow. The animals as well came their way, and they did not seem all that afraid of them or the demon for that matter. They walked beside the group and even rubbed their heads against them, including the wolf, who could at that time only think of eating them.
After many hours of walking, the path became narrow such that they had to walk in a line. Yet the trees were not ominous and in fact almost seemed to be aggrandizing the company as their trunks were held straight and the branches above curved into arches with many small vines and thinner branches hanging down from them. The leaves circled around the bark and adorned the branches, and the light that leaked through the canopy made them shine with a yellow haze.
The stone upon the ground became more ordered and the farther they went the more they could perceive the fine cuts between them. Several streams then came into view and they were rather wide.
Those that held the powers jumped to other side with relative ease with Aiṛth and the girl being carried over by Feyūnhaḥ. Vrihkhaḥ held onto the board on the side of Nakthaḥm’s legs with his mouth, and with a great swing tossed him onto the other side. Nakthaḥm along with the board, were sent spinning in the air and thereafter tossed upon the ground until they crashed into a trunk. Tūmbṃār meanwhile still sat still upon the wolf, his concentration remarkably seeming to not have broken. And this continued for seven times but the demon did not so much as flinch with his face still held in the same expression as before—gurgling.
They walked for a little while longer, yet felt something amiss. As if they were being watched from high above. Every so often the leaves would shuffle and a few would fall nearby. If it was someone on the lookout, the group had little idea of who could be following them. The pursuer had done a good job of concealing themselves, and with Nakthaḥm still in the state he was, they would have to rely on themselves to figure out the pursuer’s identity. They were not off to good start, with Sanyhaḥmān being unable to get information from the nearby animals.
“These woods go on for far too long!” said Iḷēhaḥ now thoroughly tired. “The rains strike us in such inopportune times, Nakthaḥm is still unconscious, the woods while now docile seem to be fickle in their behavior, and now we have someone following us! When shall reprieve be given to us?”
“I recall you having traveled in the Cedar Forest for a month, before meeting me,” said Feyūnhaḥ. “I didn’t see you having much of a problem with that.”
“But indeed I did,” said Iḷēhaḥ, wiping the sweat from her face. The air had become humid and the leaves dampened. “Worst of all, I could scarce take a bath, and now it has been many weeks since last I could take one.” She then slightly nudged her head down toward her shoulders. “And I am once again beginning to smell. Ah! ’Tis one of the worst things I tell you, to have bodies like these. I wonder if the Laukṣhramās smell like this, even though I was given the form of the Mānuzhhaḥ.”
“Well, while these woods maybe long,” said Feyūnhaḥ, ignoring her other remarks, “you should take your chance to revel in their sight, for they shall in no less time disappear from Ārhmanhaḥ.”
“What? You think these woods will just walk away?” said Iḷēhaḥ. “I doubt that the Mānuzhhaḥ will cut them all down or even dare to inhabit these remote locations, being as rugged and inhospitable as they are.”
“This forest in particular might indeed just walk away,” said Feyūnhaḥ. “After all, it follows wherever Vūragam moves, but as for the other forests, I heard from my brother and even the Servants of Siḍhrehḷūr that as the powers recede so to does the power of the land. When that should happen, the forests would be almost dead; the way they interact with us now, even in silence, will forever be gone and it will come at great cost to them. The Mānuzhhaḥ will multiply in the coming age and move into these spaces until every speck of green is cut away. I can’t say with any certainty that will actually be the case, but I trust their words.”
“And I too have heard tell of such prophecies from my forefathers,” said Iḷēhaḥ. “But seeing as how lively this world still is, I am beginning to doubt their words. The trees here are not helping in that matter,” and muttering to herself; “neither is the behavior of the Servants.”
They had still not told Aiṛth of all that occurred in the lake town and Feyūnhaḥ became afraid that she overheard what Iḷēhaḥ had just said. But the priestess did not seem to have caught it, instead relating tales and things about the world to the still silent girl who simply nodded her head in earnest to all the things that was mentioned.
“What of you, Sanyhaḥmān?” said Iḷēhaḥ, as she turned her head toward him. “What do you think of this forest?”
He was whistling a few paces away from them with his hands on the back of his head and his tail swishing around excitedly.
“I don’t have much to say on it,” said Sanyhaḥmān. “It’s a nice forest to me, when it isn’t trying to consume us of which I don’t think will be a problem after having met Vūragam and the demon’s wails. If you look closely, whenever Nakthaḥm passes by, you can see them moving ever so slightly away.”
The princess and maiden looked behind them toward Nakthaḥm and sure enough that was indeed the case. The roots were pulling back in the smallest of ways and the trees shifted themselves to the sides seamlessly, but not seamless enough for the two of them to not notice.
“Well I should hope it stays like that,” said Iḷēhaḥ. And then turning her head to the canopy, she shouted, “And give us cover when the rain falls!”
A shaking occurred within the trees and the leaves rustled and fell to the floor. This did not look like the work of the pursuer and Iḷēhaḥ smiled and nodded, thinking her demand was now assented.