ZVARAÑT shook his head and stood up. He walked toward Tūmbṃār with a great menace and it seemed that he grew in size as he approached. The bear-king’s body began to expand and his teeth began to grow. His snout curled inward, his eyes became as black dots upon his face and his teeth grew in size. Then he gave a great roar and the air was blown like a gust from his mouth. Tūmbṃār stood his ground holding the short sword in front and cutting the air in two.

“You foolish child! Do not think I shall show you mercy. I will rip you to shreds if you should stand between me and the assailer of the Ṃārhaḥn! I, who was created by Ishvhaḥṃār themselves, who stand as the gold scepter of my kingdom, and who puts the greatest of the Celestials to shame in combat. I who it was that aided Sītṛa in the siege against Gazhruṇā’s city to the far north, and I who it was that slaughtered hundreds of thousands on the battlefield in that war of those foolish brothers: none save Lūshhaḥ himself should stop me here in my decision to take the life of this detestable ranger! And if you should continue to stand in my way, I shall unleash my powers and utterly annihilate you! What say you, child of the Ṃārhaḥn? Would you still face me!”

And Tūmbṃār, unafraid and determined, cried, “Yes!” and ran toward the bear-king!

He in like ran toward Tūmbṃār with his hands open and his claws having grown in size. Then the sword clashed with the claws and sparks issued from the point of contact.

Zvarañt at that moment could see the glowing crystal inset into the hilt of the sword and his eyes opened in surprise, knowing what it was. But he did not speak and continued in his vicious assault.

He grabbed onto the sword with one of his palms and quickly began swiping at Tūmbṃār who dodged on all sides while still holding onto the hilt. When the sword was lifted, Tūmbṃār coursed his powers into the blade and issued a stream of fire that erupted into a towering blaze that covered the bear. And he thought at that moment that he had won. But he had underestimated the might of one endowed with Celestial might. Zvarañt issued a fierce roar that dispelled the flames and brought a great gust of wind that once more shook the trees. A hand swiftly grabbed onto the boy’s face and slammed him into the dirt.

Tūmbṃār had saved himself with a layer of earth covering his backside and in haste extended the covering over himself. The onslaught was not let up, and the bear swung his claws in successive fashion trying to peel away the earth that covered his foe. Thrust away bit after bit, the hardened crust was slowly losing its hold.

Tūmbṃār gripped his blade tight and spun himself, issuing a stream of fire and lightning. With a tap of his feet against the bear’s arms, he launched himself high. When he had ascended toward the canopy, he rebounded the air and descended with great speed, as quick as a hawk.

Grasping the hilt with both his hands, he held to his chest and plunged into the bear’s shoulder.

There was no scream or wail or flinching. Zvarañt grabbed onto the boy’s arms and squeezed them. Tūmbṃār wailed and released his hold over the blade. And the bear-king flung him like a stone.

The boy crashed through a line of trees, destroying their base and causing them to fall on either end. The leaves and falling branches littered the floor and golden rays cut through the open roof of the forest. His flight was broken upon hitting a trunk. He could taste the dirt in his mouth and see his arms quiver.

Yet not out of pain but excitement. The thrill of battle had once more entered him, just as it had done when he faced Nakthaḥm.

His eyes glanced over in front, seeing the bear charge toward him. Thirty-two trees had been felled and the situation did not appear good for Tūmbṃār. But it did not matter to him. He brushed himself and took a deep breath. And in likewise fashion raced toward Zvarañt.

The bear-king then stopped. He held his hands forward and surged his powers into a single white light. “This has gone on far too long! I shall not humor you anymore—fall by my hands, child!”

Zvarañt released a surge of light and Tūmbṃār was shocked to see what came his way. The higher elements were invoked. In greater manner than even he used. The light bent the space around it.

Tūmbṃār now frantic, held his arms forward and released the aether. He could feel the pain in his heart resurge once more; not from using the aether but for seeing what had given the pain in the first place. It seemed the pain resonated with the light and things began to slow around him: The darkness clashing with the light as the falling leaves cascaded into a warped spiral dancing about the two beams; the world about him seeming to be sucked into the point of contact; and the hysteria his friends were in as they tried to rush toward Zvarañt.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

The situation had turned dire.

To let go of the beam would be to let himself die. But to continue the standoff would mean to destroy the entirety of the forest—or at least a good part of it.

Now he thoroughly regretted having ever made that oath. He had neglected his training, not that it would have served him much good, but perhaps enough to not have put himself in this situation.

Yet everything about him seemed more alive: the sight of the rays, the smells of the forest and the leaves, the touch of the air, the taste of the dirt and blood that lingered in his mouth. None of it felt bad to him. Indeed it was the exact opposite. His mind was focused and he was determined and yet all the while feeling free and unbounded. The mantra came once more into his mind, and he called to Lūshhaḥ again. His hands dropped and the aether vanished. Then the light came his way and he stood still in happiness, ready, as it were, to die.

It would not be the case for lo! the light vanished from sight!

All became once more normal. Zvarañt was bewildered as if he saw a person dispel his attack, but whomever it was, they too had vanished.

Before he could recover himself, having let down his guard in the rush of battle, Iḷēhaḥ, Sanyhaḥmān, Feyūnhaḥ, and Vrihkhaḥ pierced the bear-king with their weapons. The staves, daggers, teeth pressed deep into the bear-king’s body.

Then Vrihkhaḥ ripped off the mail, and the maiden and princess coursed their powers into their weapons, and ignited their foe with a blaze so potent that the wall of fire erupted toward the canopy, blowing a hole straight through its center. The incinerated ashes of the branches and leaves fell about them like snow, covered in a golden mist from the ray’s of the glorious sun.

The bear’s fur was charred and he knelt on the ground with the weapons still sticking in his back. His body steamed and traces of ember still burnt away upon him.

They at last felt they were safe and dreaded that they had killed an emissary of the Gods.

“You don’t suppose he’s dead, do you?” asked Sanyhaḥmān. “I’m sure we didn’t mean to kill him. O! I hope the Gods will forgive us!”

“Quiet!” Iḷēhaḥ hushed at him. “He is very much alive.” She slowly made her way in front of him and folding her hands, she said, “I know you to be still alive, but would you still fight us in this condition? I know that mail you bore was what protected you against the elements, but ’tis now rendered useless. Put aside your rage toward the Yavhaḥṃār and end this unrighteous duel.”

A glint of gold flashed in the corner of her eyes, and she was thrust away with a great strike. The bear was on his legs again, panting with a golden mace, reddened by the blood of the maiden. Tūmbṃār on the far end could see all that occurred and tried to call out to Iḷēhaḥ, but his voice was silenced.

Then Zvarañt with his vigor heightened, rushed toward Tūmbṃār with his mace in hand. “That foolish goddess wishes to stop me! You and she have defiled Khāryaḥ in not only protecting this Ranger of the Night, but also stabbing me in the back against the prescribed injunctions of war! These Demons who have long killed and defiled this sacred Mother, who have devoured their brothers and sisters and ruined themselves from succumbing to their curse. Fie upon all who should protect them and forsake Khāryaḥ! Let the Justice of Daryurhaḥ carry you away to the deepest rungs of the Hells!”

With each step Zvarañt took, his form grew and grew in size, till he seemed as tall as the trees themselves. And when he had come close to Tūmbṃār, he lifted his mace high above him, reaching past the roof.

With a sudden motion, he swung it down toward the thirty-third banyan, splitting it in two and shooting the fractured wood and splinters into the air. Tūmbṃār unable to evade kept his hands up, bracing himself for the impact.

Suddenly the motion of the mace stopped, and in front of him stood a boy with his hands raised. Horns like that of a bull and antlers of that of a stag stuck out from the top of his head and he bore a green fhorlia laced with gold. A yellow string lined his body from his right shoulder down to the left side of his waist. His eyes were a deep brown and smooth black hair swept back descended upon his back.

“Stop this madness, Zvarañt, King of the Ṛkṣhaḥn!” cried the horned boy. “Did you not come to speak with my mother and father? Does the bear-king have no shame in trying to fell a child of tender years, who looks no older than I? Where is Khāryaḥ to be upheld in such unrighteous behavior and action? Would you fell this boy in my presence and incur sin for such a thing? Nay, you would not, so drop your weapon, and let us be on our way with your retinue and his friends.”

The mace lifted and the bear as he pulled it toward him, with great reluctance, saw a light shine behind the boy. And he beholding the deathly figure with his arms wrapped around Tūmbṃār and his face close beside with a smile spread upon it, he immediately put the mace back on his side, reduced his size, and prostrated to Tūmbṃār and the horned boy.

They assumed he did as such as apology for his actions, unable as they were to see the figure about Tūmbṃār. But Tūmbṃār did feel a bit strange, yet strangely light and peaceful. Then he heard a whisper in his ear:

I have heard your call child. Soon, I will relate what it is you must do to save Nakthaḥm. Wait until then.

Tūmbṃār flicked his head behind him, but as he expected the source of the voice vanished. Lūshhaḥ had appeared after so long and he was greatly delighted! But then he remembered that Iḷēhaḥ was hurt and he ran from there toward the others who were tending to the unconscious maiden.

The horned boy looked on in silence and felt something amiss. He found it strange that Zvarañt, being as prideful as he was, would accede to his wrong so easily. There was a strange glow about Tūmbṃār that he had noticed but he could not ascertain the source. Something both beautiful and terrible, one being more powerful than the other based upon who saw it. Such a thing did it feel like to him.

A strange group had come with an even stranger encounter: the horned boy could not help but feel excited.