The Village and the Liberation of the Vetala
Agni carried small buckets of water from the nearby wells and homes, pouring them gently over Neer's face and hands. Slowly, Neer's eyes flickered open. For a moment, he blinked, disoriented, as though awakening from a long, restless dream.
Agni crouched beside him, supporting him with strong yet tender arms, guiding him to sit upright. He poured a little more water into Neer's mouth, ensuring he drank it. Then, with a soft exhale, he pulled Neer close and hugged him, feeling the warmth of his friend's returning life.
Agni (softly, with concern):
"You're okay now, Neer. Truly… are you alright?"
Neer blinked a few times, taking in his surroundings, still weak but breathing steadily.
"Yes… I'm fine. What… what happened to me? And how did we end up here? That Brahmarakshas… is it truly gone?"
Agni nodded, his expression steady but carrying the weight of the past hours.
"Yes, Neer. It's over. The forest… the creature… it's finished."
Neer's brow furrowed, still trying to piece together the events.
"Did you… destroy it?"
Agni's eyes met his, calm but resolute.
"Yes. When you were saving me in the forest… pouring all your strength into protecting me… you collapsed. That's when Gurudev sent me a vision, a message… this was no ordinary demon. Its end could not come through mere sword or spell. Only the Narayan Kavach… only that recitation could free it."
Neer's lips parted slightly in awe.
"So… Gurudev guided you to defeat it?"
Agni smiled faintly, brushing a wet strand of Neer's hair from his forehead.
"Yes. But now… you must rest. You gave everything—your entire soul—protecting me. That's why you became unconscious. I… I couldn't leave you alone."
Neer's voice was soft, a mix of pride and disbelief.
"But… how did you know? I… I used all my energy. You were unconscious. How could you have sensed it?"
Agni placed a hand over Neer's, brushing his thumb over the back of it, subtle warmth radiating through the gesture.
"Gurudev told me. And even without him, I would have felt it, Neer… because I was by your side."
Neer's eyes softened, looking away briefly.
"No… Agni. I didn't do it for you alone. It wasn't to save you. It was to end the Brahmarakshas… to stop it from hurting anyone else. I… I used my energy for its destruction, not merely for you."
Agni let out a low hum of acknowledgment, his fingers lingering over Neer's hand. His eyes, dark and intense, softened as he smiled.
"I understand. Truly. Now rest. Don't speak so much, alright?"
Neer tried to hide a smile, shaking his head.
"Alright… though, honestly… how can I ever compete with you?"
Agni raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across his features.
"What was that?"
"Nothing," Neer muttered, glancing away.
"Good. Now rest. I'll fetch some food."
Agni stepped out into the quiet village, returning shortly with bread, lentils, and a few fruits. They ate slowly, the weight of exhaustion and relief settling over them like a comforting cloak. Days passed in the village as Neer recovered, and Agni never left his side. Each morning, he would ensure Neer drank water, his hands brushing Neer's shoulder or wrist subtly as he guided him to stand, or steadying him when a wave of dizziness passed through him.
Even in the simple act of sitting beside him under the shade of the village trees, Agni's gaze would flick to Neer constantly, subtle but unwavering. He would speak softly about mundane things—the wind, the patterns of the birds, the smell of wet earth—yet his eyes always measured Neer's condition, noting every slight falter in breath, every tension in his muscles. Neer, too, had started noticing the small gestures, the tiny attentions that spoke louder than words.
Despite their calm recovery, a peculiar tension lingered over the village. Something in the air felt… off. Shadows seemed to cling longer than they should, whispers curled in the wind, and villagers would glance toward the distant, older homes with unease, quickly averting their eyes when Agni or Neer looked their way. When asked, no one offered answers, leaving both outsiders and warriors unsettled.
One afternoon, as the sun dipped low and the village streets lay quiet, they wandered toward a broken, decrepit hut at the edge of the settlement. The hut seemed abandoned at first glance, but an old man, his face creased with lines deeper than age alone, emerged from the doorway.
Neer stepped forward respectfully.
"Greetings, Baba."
The old man squinted at them, voice rough like dry leaves.
"Who are you two? You do not seem of this village. What brings you here? And why seek me?"
Neer exchanged a glance with Agni before answering, his voice steady but wary.
"We have come from a distant Gurukul, Baba. We are on a mission… but this village… there is something strange here, something hidden. We sensed it."
The old man's eyes narrowed.
"There is nothing strange here, boy. Move along. You will find nothing for your quest here."
Neer, sensing both caution and fear, softened his tone.
"Baba, this is my companion, Agni. He is very weak and thirsty. Could you… perhaps give us some water?"
The old man hesitated, then sighed.
"Very well. Come inside."
They stepped into the hut, dimly lit by a single flickering lamp. The old man handed them water. As Neer tilted the cup to Agni's lips, a faint flicker of movement caught his eye—an embered piece of wood, dislodged from the rafters, falling straight toward the old man. Without a second thought, Neer lunged forward and hurled it outside.
The old man recoiled, voice trembling:
"Th… the time has come… no one survives him… leave this place now, or prepare for death!"
Agni's eyes narrowed, glancing at the man, voice steady yet cautious:
"Baba… who has come? What are you speaking of?"
The old man's hands shook violently.
"The Vetala…!"
Neer's brow furrowed, his pulse quickening.
"The Vetala?"
"Yes… the Vetala. Every new moon, it comes to this village. It demands a sacrifice… someone always falls victim."
Agni exchanged a quick, sharp glance with Neer.
"So… that explains the fear in the village. This is what has haunted them."
Neer leaned slightly forward, concern etched deep in his features, his hand brushing over Agni's briefly.
"How can we stop it, Baba? How do we protect the villagers? Who… or what… is it exactly?"
The old man's voice fell almost to a whisper, trembling with dread.
"It resides in the oldest Banyan tree in this village. Its skin is blue, eyes filled with blood, a crown upon its head, a necklace around its neck, and sharp fangs. It hangs from the tree. Anyone who approaches… never returns. It is the unfulfilled desire of a soul wronged betrayed in love, trust, or cursed… until it finds liberation or its wish is completed."
Neer's eyes hardened, a faint glow of determination in them. He shifted slightly, supporting Agni as he spoke, protective yet firm:
"Then we will find it. We will face it… and free it. Baba, tell us what must be done. Guide us."
The old man glanced at them, his gaze lingering longer on Agni, perhaps sensing the quiet bond, the subtle care, and the unspoken courage between the two. Yet he only shook his head slowly, his voice low and uneven:
"That… is not for me to tell. Some truths are revealed only when the time comes… some shadows cannot be lifted by mere mortal strength."
Agni tightened his hold on Neer gently, almost unconsciously pressing a reassuring hand to his shoulder. His voice was quiet, just for Neer, but steady:
"Whatever comes, we face it together. You've done enough for me already… now let me protect you for a change."
Neer's lips twitched into a faint, grateful smile, looking at Agni with something unspoken in his eyes. He nodded, allowing himself to lean slightly against Agni, still wary of the danger ahead but comforted by the warmth and subtle attention of his companion.
Outside, the sun dipped fully below the horizon. Shadows stretched long across the village, and the forest beyond the Banyan tree seemed to hum with unseen life. The old man's words hung in the air, and a chill ran down both their spines. Somewhere in the darkness, a dreadful presence awaited—patient, eternal, and ready to test their courage and bond.
Neer tightened his grip on his sword, glancing at Agni:
"Whatever it is… whatever it wants… we will not fail. Not this time."
Agni's eyes, calm yet sharp, met his.
"Then we wait, Neer… and prepare. The Vetala's shadow is long… and it will test us in ways we cannot yet imagine."
The forest whispered, the village lay silent, and the air grew heavy with an unspoken promise of darkness. The Vetala awaited.
(To be continued…)