Swords hung at their waists.
Vigilance burned in their eyes.
For a moment, Chaturika tried to fight.
But without magical strength, she possessed neither sorcery nor skill with the sword.
Only Chaturaka’s arrogance remained.
The female guards bound her.
They did not use iron shackles.
They used protective bonds purified by the mantra of Garuda and given to them by Sharabhanga.
The moment those bonds encircled her wrists, even the remnants of hidden magic within her could no longer move.
“Confine her in the southern chamber of the temple,” Sharabhanga commanded. “He cannot cross the circle there.
“She cannot cross it.”
Chaturika tried to laugh.
But it was no longer the terrible laughter of darkness.
It was only the broken sound left behind by a defeated disguise.
“Sulochana is still Sulochana,” she said venomously. “The force of my spirit had already begun to work upon her. The serpent is dead. My power is gone. But the bond has not fully dissolved.
“Wait for the final day.”
Sulochana stepped forward.
Kumudvati tried to stop her, but Sulochana stood calmly.
“Chaturaka,” she said, “you used the form of a woman as a weapon to bind me. I will transform that same form into the witness of my vow and free myself.
“You halted my body.
“I will sustain my will.”
For a moment, Chaturika could not speak.
The female guards led her away.
The door of the southern chamber closed.
---
That night, the air began to move once more through the temple.
Sharabhanga absorbed the enchanted Garuda back into his gesture.
Weariness was visible upon his face.
Thirty-nine days of worship of the great Garuda, protection of Sulochana’s vow, and watchfulness over Chaturaka’s movements had burdened even the body of the sage.
Yet the light in his eyes had not diminished.
Kumudvati asked softly,
“Revered master, has the danger passed completely?”
“No,” Sharabhanga replied. “Chaturaka’s power has been separated from him. His attempt to enter has failed. But there is half a truth in what he said.
“The force of spirit he placed upon Sulochana earlier still remains.
“That is why the fortieth day is the most important.”
Sulochana stood in silence.
“I am still Sulochana,” she said.
Sharabhanga turned towards her.
“Yes. Because the vow is not yet complete.
“Thirty-nine days have loosened the links of the chain.
“On the fortieth day, the knot itself must be undone.”
Kumudvati took Sulochana’s hand.
“We will undo it.”
Sharabhanga looked at them both.
“Tomorrow is the final day.
“From morning onward, you will observe silence.
“At midday, you will take the medicine.
“In the evening, you will unite your breathing upon the moonstone platform.
“At night, before the sanctum, you will perform the secret vow of marriage.
“At that very moment, Chaturaka’s bond will lose its direction.”
For a moment, fear appeared in Sulochana’s eyes.
“Revered master… what if I do not return?”
Kumudvati tightened her hold.
“You will return. But in whatever form you return, I will remain beside you.”
Sulochana looked at her.
There was no fear in those words.
No compulsion.
Only acceptance.
It was a power unknown to Chaturaka’s magic.
Sharabhanga said softly,
“See—this is the heart of the vow.
“Magic understands force.
“But it does not understand acceptance.
“That is why the two of you must remain together.”
---
Grandmother stopped the story there.
We stared at the cloth in her hands as though we had forgotten to breathe.
Golden wings of a great Garuda had now been embroidered upon it.
Beneath them lay a black serpent.
Beside them were two small flowers.
Farther away appeared something like a shadow imprisoned between walls.
“Grandmother,” my younger sister asked, “has Chaturika now truly become a woman?”
Grandmother slowly pulled the needle through the cloth.
“When power departs, only the disguise remains, child. But even a disguise can become a punishment for one who wore it in betrayal.”
My eldest sister asked,
“When will the Alchemy-Perfected Warriors arrive?”
Grandmother smiled.
“When clouds gather in the distance, it means rain is drawing near. Even if the warriors cannot yet be seen, the earth is preparing itself for their footsteps.”
I asked softly,
“Then will Sulochana become Sulochanudu tomorrow?”
With white thread, Grandmother began a new line upon the moonstone platform.
“Tomorrow is not merely the day when a form changes.
“Tomorrow, love, sacred vow, and war will all be tied into a single knot.”
End of Part Five (To Be Continued)
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