Monday, April 18, 2011

Epilogue - II

Blood flowed out of the open wound on his forehead, the bright red ichor staining the light brown skin of his cheeks. Undeterred he battled on, his two blades Suraarihantŕ and Dazamaarikaa singing to the tune of his movements. Clasping the twin blades tightly in his hands at shoulder width from each other and pointing outward he began a hypnotic dance through the sea of ashen skinned enemies, cutting and slashing at them. Many panicked and fell back to the blade-dance, blood flowing from wounds on various parts of their bodies. By now the warrior had reached deep into the ranks of the enemy, but was surprised to find his enemies forming a wide ring around him, beginning to chant loudly in unison.

"Janyavrtti! Janyavrtti!"

A giant mace came crashing down on his side, cracking the earth stained with the blood of him and his enemies. He glanced to the side to confront red eyes burning with rage and hatred. In front of him stood a large warrior maiden, her body clad in ceremonial armour made of bronze and decorated with gold filigree. She towered over him almost double in height, her sharp teeth locked in a furious grimace. The gigantic female lifted up her implement of war for another strike, her muscles rippling with effort. Anticipating the attack he lifted Suraarihantŕ to deflect and Dazamaarikaa to prepare a counter-attack. The dusky maiden swung her mace at his torso intending to break his spine, her dark matted hair blowing in the dry breeze. Using Suraarihantŕ he deftly directed her strike towards the ground again and readied Dazamaarikaa for the inevitable stab as the maiden staggered furious her attack had not connected.

"Muulabandha!" boomed a voice behind the maiden.

Roots burst forth from the ground, first enclosing and constricting around his feet and started moving up his legs towards his chest. Desperately he hacked and slashed using Suraarihantŕ at the thorny bramble suppressing his instinct to cry out in pain, the hand holding Dazamaarikaa already clasped by the ever-growing vines. The maiden, now recovered was advancing, her mace raised in the air her mouth foaming with anger.

With a flick of his wrist the warrior sliced through the vines restraining Dazamaarikaa. Just then the maiden's mace came smashing down on him. He quickly strafed left causing the mace to bludgeon through the rest of the roots and freeing himself to return to balance. The mystic who had rooted him came into view, his lips pursed and intensely concentrated gaze rested on him. The yaksha's skin was ashen and the intricate colourful paint that covered his hard features did little to hide the excessive number of ornaments pierced into his skin. As he began chanting silently, he laid a hand on the maiden's shoulder. Her stature and muscles began to grow in power and she let out a piercing roar. The mystic slumped to the ground, his body needing recuperation from the energy siphon of the incantation.

Surrounded by enemies and watching the magically invigorated elite maiden charging to finish him off, the warrior braced himself intent on taking out as many enemies before he himself would be overwhelmed. The female swung her mace downward towards the warrior's head intending to crush his skull. The warrior held his blades above him hoping that would halt the downward movement of the sledge. Suddenly there was a bright flash of light and the warrior and rest of his army disappeared from the battlefield, leaving no trace save their shed blood. The maiden's mace came crashing down sending shockwaves in all directions, yet that did not compare to the astonishment on the faces of the hardened yaksha army.

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1) In sanskrit Suraarihantŕ means demon-killer; *demon was a racial qualifier in Indian society and bears no similarity to the semitic term
2) In sanskrit Dazamaarikaa means the killer of 10
3) In sanskrit Muulabandha means deep-rooted

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