“From now on, the royal physician will examine these medicines first.”
For a moment, a shadow crossed Chaturika’s face.
At once, softness returned.
“As the princess commands.”
Sulochana looked at Kumudvati and gave the slightest nod.
Within that nod was a warning:
Be careful.
---
It happened the following night.
The inner palace lay silent.
A dim lamp burned in Sulochana’s chamber.
Kumudvati lay awake in her own room, unable to sleep. For some reason, her mind remained restless.
Only Chaturika was present in Sulochana’s chamber.
“Shall I extinguish the lamp, my lady?” Chaturika asked.
“Not yet,” Sulochana replied.
She stood near the window, looking towards the north.
In the distance, the wind was moving strangely. Her body warned her that danger was approaching.
But that body no longer obeyed her as swiftly as before.
Chaturika slowly came closer.
“My lady…”
Sulochana turned.
At that moment, Chaturika seized her hand tightly.
There was no servant’s humility in that touch.
No trembling of a victim.
There was hunger.
Authority.
A lustful violence that sought possession.
Sulochana tried to free her hand.
But the grip tightened.
Chaturika’s eyes changed at once. The mask of gentleness cracked apart. Sorcerous fire gleamed within them.
“Prince Sulochana of Trigangeya,” she whispered.
Sulochana’s body jolted.
Chaturika laughed.
“No, no… Princess Sulochana.”
“Who are you?” Sulochana’s voice hardened, though its old strength did not fully return.
Chaturika burst into terrible laughter.
It sounded like a lesser echo of the dark laughter once heard in the royal court.
A blaze of unnatural light suddenly filled the chamber.
Chaturika’s form twisted.
Her braid unravelled like smoke.
Her eyelashes opened into black flames.
Her soft shoulders lengthened.
Her voice became harsh and rasping.
Chaturika vanished.
In her place stood Chaturaka, the sorcerer of Trigarta.
In his hand was a black staff, its tip crowned with blue flame.
There was no mercy in his eyes.
Only the arrogance of one who believed victory had already been won.
“You used the Art of Shapeshifting as a discipline, Sulochana,” he said. “I have turned it into your destiny.”
Sulochana stepped backwards.
Her lips moved as she attempted to utter a mantra.
But Chaturaka had already raised his staff.
“Be still!”
Blue light struck the centre of Sulochana’s forehead.
For a moment, fire flashed in her eyes.
Then her body went limp.
Consciousness slipped away.
Before she could fall, Chaturaka caught her.
“The time has come for you to learn to whom you now belong,” he said.
He lifted Sulochana onto his shoulder.
Darkness began to spin around the chamber. The ceiling seemed to open like smoke as Chaturaka prepared to escape through the sky.
At that moment, the air in the chamber became still.
Against the darkness, a saffron radiance appeared.
“Chaturaka,” said a solemn voice, “I believed that although you had abandoned discipleship, you had not abandoned the laws of the teacher’s house. I was mistaken.”
Chaturaka stopped.
In the centre of the chamber, Sage Sharabhanga appeared.
There was no weapon in his hand.
But the silence surrounding him stood like a circle of protection.
There was no anger in his eyes.
Yet within them burned the fire of righteousness that rises before betrayal.
Chaturaka laughed.
“Sharabhanga! You are too late. I have bound the form of your disciple. Now I will take his future as well.”
“You may bind a form,” Sharabhanga said. “Not the will.”
“Do you believe you can defeat me?”
Sharabhanga looked at him in silence.
“We were both disciples of the same teacher. I know the strength of your magic. You know mine. Victory is not the purpose here. Restraint is.”
Chaturaka’s face hardened.
“Then witness this!”
Serpents of blue fire leapt from his staff.
Sharabhanga raised his right hand.
A circle of golden syllables appeared in the air.
The instant the serpents touched it, they dissolved into flower pollen.
Chaturaka chanted again.
The walls of the chamber moved like waves of darkness.
Shadows rose from the floor like swords.
Sharabhanga closed his eyes.
From his breath, a mantra spread like the sacred resonance of Sage Agastya.
The blades of shadow were pinned back to the floor.
Sulochana still lay unconscious upon Chaturaka’s shoulder.
At the sight, pain flashed for a moment in Sharabhanga’s eyes.
“You have used sacred knowledge for betrayal, Chaturaka.”
“Only victors possess the right to write the laws of righteousness,” Chaturaka replied.
“That is your delusion.”
The forces of their magic collided.
The lamps in the room shattered into a thousand lights and then collapsed into a single darkness.
Braids and garments whipped in the storm.
The doors slammed shut.
The entire inner palace trembled.
Kumudvati ran out of her chamber.
“Sulochana!” she cried.
But an invisible barrier stopped her before the doorway.
Her hands struck the wall of air.
Lights flashed inside.
Voices resounded.
For a moment, she saw Sulochana’s unconscious form.
Then it vanished again.
“Gurudevi!” Kumudvati screamed.
The cry reached Sharabhanga.
With his left hand, he traced a circle of protection.
With his right, he cast a syllable of power.
Chaturaka was hurled backwards.
Sulochana slipped from his shoulder.
Before she could strike the floor, Sharabhanga’s circle of magic caught her gently and lowered her onto the white marble.
Chaturaka roared in fury.
“You have stopped me today. But the curse remains, Sharabhanga! He will never regain his true self. What began as Sulochana will end as Sulochana. And more than that—Trigarta needs her. Durjaya’s destiny is bound to hers.”
“Destiny is not written by your staff,” Sharabhanga said sternly.
Chaturaka laughed terribly.
“Then let time decide.”
Darkness closed around him.
In a single instant, he disappeared.
Light returned to the inner palace.
Sulochana lay unconscious in the centre of the chamber.
Her face was peaceful.
But her entire body had sunk into the silence of an enchantment.
The moment the invisible barrier vanished, Kumudvati rushed inside.
She knelt beside Sulochana and took her hand in both of hers.
“Sulochana…”
There was no response.
Sharabhanga approached.
For the first time, a heavy sorrow appeared upon his face.
Kumudvati looked at him.
“Revered master… what has happened to her?”
Sharabhanga did not answer at once.
He placed his right hand upon Sulochana’s forehead and closed his eyes.
After a long while, he spoke softly.
“The enchantment has begun.”
“Then break it, revered master!”
Sharabhanga opened his eyes.
“The knowledge Chaturaka learned sprang from the same source as mine. If I shatter his spell through force, Sulochana’s life itself will be harmed.”
Kumudvati’s voice trembled.
“Then what can be done?”
“Strength will not be enough. A sacred vow is required. Medicine is required. Time is required. And above all—Sulochana’s own will is required.”
Kumudvati tightened her hold upon Sulochana’s hand.
“I will protect that will.”
Sharabhanga looked at her.
In Kumudvati’s eyes, there was no longer only the devotion of a disciple.
There was the resolve of a protector.
The sage spoke gently.
“Then this secret must remain concealed a little longer, Kumudvati. If the truth is revealed now, the enemy will come too soon. Until Sulochana awakens, her true nature must be protected. Her bondage must not be exposed. Her battle has begun within.”
Kumudvati looked at Sulochana’s face.
“She will not be alone.”
Sharabhanga nodded.
“From this moment onward, your dance training will change. Your breath must guard her breath. Your discipline of mind must become a barrier against the enchantment binding her.”
Grandmother stopped the story there.
We all sat in silence.
Upon the cloth in her hands, there was now a flower, a bow, a black shadow, and a saffron line running between them.
“Grandmother,” my younger sister asked softly, “was Chaturika truly Chaturaka from the very beginning?”
Without stopping her needle, Grandmother continued stitching.
“In stories, some people wear disguises, children. But some use disguise itself as a weapon.”
I asked,
“Will Sulochana awaken again?”
Grandmother looked at me and smiled.
“Awakening does not happen only through the eyes. Sometimes, a person must remain awake within for a very long time while searching for their true form.”
She threaded another strand through the needle.
“The sacred vow has not yet begun.”
End of Part Three (To Be Continued)
Discussion (0)