THEY continued to walk for sometime, and the number of trees slightly lessened, enough to see beyond their towering figures. There were still more trees yonder, yet also much vegetation, flowers, and animals frolicking and grazing. The path then veered off to the side and began to descend gently. And not long after, they came into a clearing, the largest that they had seen yet.
The sun was beginning to set in the northwest.
All around were many giant stones, and the ground itself while matted with grass was rocky beneath. The stone path continued toward a large hill surrounded by small shrubs and flowering trees. They continued on that path scaling the hillside until they reached a large flat top, where was set a fire pit, and long curved stones circling it. They seemed to have been unused for a long while, as vines, weeds, and grass had completely covered them.
Tūmbṃār went over to the other edge, and looking out, he could see that the edge of the clearing sharply descended into a cliff. And past it, were trees whose roofs touched very close to the height of the cliff and even farther past they rose higher into forest mountains covered in mist. Then all of a sudden, he began to feel cold and rubbed his hands together.
“We are already quite high, but you most likely did not notice it on the way through,” said the prince, coming from behind.
“How high?” asked Tūmbṃār who ignited a small flames in his hands and blew on it.
“I would say we are a few miles above the sea now.”
“That high!” shouted Tūmbṃār. “It didn’t feel like we rose at all, and didn’t feel cold until now.”
“This forest works in its own manner, so I am not surprised you did not notice. It is said that the forest floor lifts and falls of its own accord, yet in such a way that you would not be able to notice it. The banyans here unlike in the rest of Ārhmanhaḥ seem to act as a shield or a great house; the air that passes through is always pure and the light that becomes golden always provides warmth. One should think there would be snow, and at times it will form, but not in the interior of the forest.” He then turned up and saw white dots begin to fall from a sky that was slowly beginning to cloud. “Ah! It looks like the snow returns once more. Come! let us gather branches and kindle for the fire.”
Bahṛigfar, Tūmbṃār, Zvarañt, Sanyhaḥmān, and five Ṛkṣhaḥn went to scavenge the forests. The prince showed Tūmbṃār what all fruits and plants could be gathered for eating of which there was quite the variety and tasted very sweet even though much of it was leaves, stems, and roots.
Sanyhaḥmān slowly picked up branches while taking glances and keeping near Zvarañt and the other Ṛkṣhaḥn. They had gone hunting and with their claws felled some thirty deer. Sanyhaḥmān was quite amused at the spectacle, for at least for that moment, the bear-people were more animal than human. Stalking their prey on all fours, they would come in close range, hiding behind the tress and shrubs. And then suddenly pounce, gash the helpless prey, and when needed, break their necks to ensure a swift kill.
When all was accounted for they returned to the hill and alighted a large flame in the pit. The snow was beginning to fall a little harder and the air became even much cooler than it had before. They were sorely lacking in winter wear having only obtained a few coats from the monks at the temple but they made do with what they had.
Sanyhaḥmān offered his to Aiṛth seeing no need for it if the snowfall was light and they gave the extra to the girl. Sanyhaḥmān and the bears then skinned the dears, gutted them, cooked the meat, while Tūmbṃār signaled Feyūnhaḥ—by chucking stones—to help him train.
She readily accepted and they began to spar bare-handed. Iḷēhaḥ took glances their way, wanting to join them, but she held off on it seeing it inappropriate to interrupt now (though even she knew she had to hone her skills at some point with her powers slowly waning).
Aiṛth tended to Nakthaḥm with the girl by her side. His eyelids had fallen and his breathing became faint. It looked as if he were in a deep sleep. His mouth had closed completely onto the branch and paying close attention to him she could hear a sound like a low rumble passing from his stomach up to his throat which twitched at the larynx and then released as a dull sound from his mouth.
The ground slowly became blanketed in white and the priestess wondered if Nakthaḥm would become cold. He was still very much in the form of a human, and taking no chances, she dragged his board close to the fire and then sitting on the other side, she began to gently tap the roots and sing a song softly as if he were a babe. The girl listened to her and as if cast by a spell, her eyes became heavy and she fell to a sleep on the priestess’ lap.
“What is that child’s name?” asked Zvarañt sitting by her.
“I do not know,” said Aiṛth. “We were hoping that she would tell us when she could yet speak, but whatever trouble she has gone through has for now silenced her.”
“Her clothes are peculiar,” said Zvarañt, noticing that they were were very ragged and torn. The group would have dressed her better had they had any extra on hand. “And I can see faint marks around her neck and her wrists. A long time has passed since I descended to Ārhmanhaḥ, but I had heard in that time, that the people of the south had brought about a detestable practice of enslaving those they had warred with and that such practices continue to this day. Might she be one of them? I know that no such practices have, as of yet, made their way to the other lands.”
She remained silent for sometime, only looking at the girl and tapping the roots.
And then she said, “I had hoped that was not the case. But I cannot deny that possibility. I can only wonder what it was that occurred so long ago there, for them to have effected such a system. For as much injustice the Servants had caused in the Era of Unification never had they allowed an institution like that to emerge. Antithetical as it is to the idea of the Ṃārhaḥn, and even more to the Mānuzhhaḥ. Should not a fellow man at the very least be treated better than animals?” She sighed and continued, “No matter now; if the people of that village were indeed slavers, may they pay their due in the Hells and come back as better folk. Now that she is an orphan, we shall have to find a place for her; and I would hope among some of our own people. It will not be good to have her continuing to travel with us. Our journey shall continue to become more dangerous.”
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“Yes, I had heard from the other Celestials of what occurred with King Rṭyāshphaḥ and his use of the Drasūvayeznd. But even without it, the Demons are slowly encroaching into Ārhmanhaḥ as we speak.” The slab of meat he held in a long skewer had become well-cooked and tender and he took a large bite from it.
“What!” said Aiṛth in a raised voice. She had caught Iḷēhaḥ’s attention not too far from her. “I thought they were not to come until—well now—less than twelve years.”
“And that is still the case,” said Zvarañt, “but that does not mean that a few cannot make their way here. After all Nakthaḥm himself must have traveled from the lower planetary worlds to arrive here. Do not mistake the Yavhaḥṃār’s iniquity and savagery to mean they are completely dull of mind. They have their own devices to allow them to travel. Yet fortunately only to the extent of perhaps a few hundred at a time with other caveats in place. While the Gods may not descend the Celestials still do, and they will at times dispense away with that hoard, but usually when it is in their interest. Do not count on them to eliminate them all, for even they have the larger hoard to face in the deeps of space.”
She shuddered in fear; not for herself but for Nakthaḥm. It must have pained him greatly to have to kill his own whether they were like Men or animals, even if it was to save their friends or uphold Khāryaḥ. Looking down at the girl, it now seemed all the more crucial to find a new home for her. And that perhaps to protect her and the others, Aiṛth thought to herself that she should also take to bearing arms. She could not allow Nakthaḥm or anyone else to handle more dangers on account of her.
Iḷēhaḥ then came by her side and said, “When time presents itself, would you like to train with me?” Aiṛth was surprised and before she could speak, the maiden interrupted her saying, “I can very well tell by the way you move your head and your mannerisms that you still bear guilt for what has happened to Nakthaḥm. Even under that mask and layers of robes you are not very good at hiding such things.”
The priestess sighed and then said, “Though I have little in the way of combat I should hope that you can drill such sense into me!”
“Allow me to spar with you two as well!” added Zvarañt.
“Well if you wish, then I suppose you can stand still and let us thrash you like a post!” said Iḷēhaḥ in a sour tone.
“And I would be glad for it!” he said laughing alongside Aiṛth which irritated the maiden.
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Tūmbṃār’s leg flew over her head, and Feyūnhaḥ lunging from her duck, caught hold of Tūmbṃār and pushed him into the ground. He then freed himself from her grasp and took a few paces back holding an upright stance.
The princess dusted herself and took position in a similar pose with her arms held out.
Tūmbṃār then ran to her and gave quick blows that she blocked with ease. Then he spun and landed a hard kick against her poised elbow. But unable to stop his motion he followed through, and Feyūnhaḥ grabbed his leg with her other arm and pushed him once more on the ground, only this time holding tight to it.
Tūmbṃār tapped his hand on the ground and she let go laughing.
“He has certainly become weaker,” she said to the Ṛkṣhaḥn, giggling. “Several months back he was able to put my brother on edge. But I suppose we’ll have to train him more.”
“I could’ve beaten her with my weapon,” he said panting, trying to convince the retinue who only shook their head. “It’s not as if I’ll have to fight without my powers or without my weapon.”
And then his mind went back to that incident with the Gazhigam aristocrats of which the others were still unaware.
“It wasn’t my choice to fight bare-handed,” she said looking to the prince, “but seeing this as a weakness, I won’t let him off it until he can best me. Given maybe a few weeks of constant training, he should be back to peak condition.”
Tūmbṃār groaned at that knowing he could not argue. He swung himself upright and looked to his side to see Bahṛigfar clapping.
“Tūmbṃār, if you still desire to spar, what say you do so against me?” he asked.
Tūmbṃār delighted readily assented.
They took their positions across from each other and held to their stances. Tūmbṃār exhaled with his arms suspended and his wrists loose. The air became colder, and his exhalation rose like steam.
Bahṛigfar meanwhile closed his eyes, standing upright with his hands cupped. Tūmbṃār recalled the stance that Athruyam held and Bahṛigfar’s matched it exactly.
Tūmbṃār’s eyes then trailed to the horns and antlers atop the prince’s head, down to the long brown locks resting on his shoulders. Then at the corner of his eyes a faint light and image of a man appeared, that stood toward the edge of the hill. While they were not far from it, Tūmbṃār could ever so slightly see him holding a gentle smile. But as soon as he shifted his head in his direction, he vanished.
He heard a clap resonate and the voice of the princess call to them. It was muffled to him as if his ears had been covered. The prince’s mouth moved and so did Tūmbṃār’s but he could not hear what he said.
Then another clap, and Bahṛigfar broke his pose and raced to Tūmbṃār. Yet the boy did not feel the rush of adrenaline, and his body remained calm. Hard strikes of the prince’s fists were blocked by Tūmbṃār’s elbows, but was quickly followed by a grapple, as like a deer fighting with its antlers. Tūmbṃār’s hold broke, and he was pushed back by Bahṛigfar. Both their arms held tight to the other’s shoulders and their fingers pressed hard into them. Still the strange sensation did not abate.
Tūmbṃār’s mind felt clear and he looked to Bahṛigfar with a paralleled calmness.
Then with a sudden movement, Tūmbṃār pushed himself free from the prince’s grasp and ducked under, evading the subsequent grab. And he lunged his fist forward and the ensuing strike landed in the prince’s abdomen and instantly pushed him back far. The prince’s feet slid against the dirt and like smoke the dust lifted and quickly dispersed.
Tūmbṃār gave no time for rest and raced to the prince. A flurry of strikes was given: several punches to the front and spinning kicks to the side. The prince managed to stop each of them and deal his own set of blows that were equally blocked. On and on did this continue, and their strikes against each other blew harder and harder and seemed to reverberate in the air.
Before they knew it, there was already a crowd looking at their match. And they had become rather rowdy. The smell of Svyamhaḥ effused the air and shouts and screeches either for Tūmbṃār or Bahṛigfar resounded loud.
Yet none of this distracted the two combatants who on and on fiercely traded their blows.
Tūmbṃār became even more aggressive than he had in Feyūnhaḥ’s match and spun himself countless number of times in the air in order to land strikes that could push the prince down. But the antlers sustained his strikes well, with the prince’s head holding resolute and firm against the impact. And Bahṛigfar while he was not defending, would strike with open palms, always in an attempt to grapple Tūmbṃār. He matched his aggressiveness and Tūmbṃār knew that if he got hold of him, the match would end.
Tūmbṃār was soon pushed on the defensive and he evaded the prince’s strikes unable to completely block them. The two went in a circle several times, kicking dust into the air with their movement. Then Tūmbṃār grabbed onto his palms and two were locked in a standstill, gritting their teeth.
Now it really did seem like two deer locked in a duel. Their arms quivered and struggled with subtle motion as each tried to overpower the other. Their eyes were open and locked to each other and not once did they blink.
“How long shall we keep this up, Tūmbṃār? Do you not feel tired?”
“I could say the same to you.”
And they taunted each other like this while grinning. The calmness Tūmbṃār held was replaced with excitement and a resolute determination to win; as much could be said in likeness for the prince. The rush of battle held sway over them and they could not help but thoroughly enjoy with all their heart this current struggle.
One they so deeply desired.
But all good things must come to an end, and they, nodding to each other ,let go of the other’s hand. And then suddenly recoiled their fists and struck the other’s cheek with a mighty blow that sent the two flying to either end. They tossed in the dirt and tumbled some ways until they landed on their back.
The crowd looked to them with disbelief. The two laughed loud, with bloody cheeks, into the cloudy night as the snow blanketed atop them.