The Sacrificial Flame

“There is such a thing as evil in this world. A wolf may kill a sheep to stave its hunger but that doesn’t make it evil. That is nature. Nature is not evil. Harsh and unforgiving perhaps, but not evil.

There are monsters and Rakshasas who, of course, possess the capacity for evil. But we cannot blame them for they have been cursed by the Gods. Had you been born with their roll of the dice, you would not be much different.

However, there is a creature that is nothing but pure malevolence. They find mirth when they pillage and destroy culture and prosperity. They do not know things such as mercy or love. They laugh in the faces of our Gods and forsake divinity for they were cast away from it. These unholy fiends are known as dragons.”

His grandmother’s words rang in Nikhil’s ears as he tore through the undergrowth. The sun was beginning to set and the shadows of the trees began to grow longer and colder. Panting like a dog, he followed the tracks like a hound. The prints got further apart. Nikhil quickened his pace in anticipation. But then, they stopped. No more footprints. It was as if they had disappeared in the clearing. But Nikhil knew what had happened.

He saw two colossal claw prints, bigger than any Nikhil had ever seen. They were right next to where the footprints had stopped: a massive dragon had taken his son.

By the time Nikhil had made it back to the village, it was night. The only light was the dull glow of the moon. It was almost full, just two more days. The stars were out but they seemed dull today. Yet, they were bright enough to guide Nikhil home and he didn’t feel like using the flame. The flame required willpower and he was fresh out of that. A dull fear had been spreading through his chest and it seemed to tighten when he saw the glow of the torches.

He set down his bow and knife outside his hut, breathing heavily. Sakshi must have heard him. She would be awake. Why wouldn’t she? Her eyes were wide when the cloth door swung open. They darted around Nikhil, perhaps she hoped Adish was hiding behind him. When she focused on Nikhil’s face in the candlelight, she finally realized he was not there.

Nikhil held his wife tightly on the bed. Her beautiful face was contorted into a sickening form of sadness. Nikhil thought her wails would wake up the whole village. They did. Come morning, there were some gifts outside: a bunch of bananas, some fresh well water, and some turmeric potion. He would have felt thankful for the support of his community, but he didn’t. He drank the water to quench his parched throat and then set out for the Banyan Tree.

The Banyan Tree was where the elders of the village held court. They would sit under its long-reaching arms and forge the destiny of the village. Nikhil’s wise father had been part of the council and his father too before him. In a couple of decades, perhaps Nikhil too would sit amongst the elders.

They watched him approach, unsure of what news Nikhil would bring. The thick-bearded Maruti sat at the head of the council with his back straight and shoulders broad. Half a dozen other elders crowded his either side. Only Pranay, Nikhil’s wispy bearded wizened uncle-in-law, stood apart from the group. Nikhil would need Pranay’s help here.

“O Elders, I have come to you now in a time of great need. My son has been taken from my arms. As you know, he was lost from his mother’s protection in the great forest on an excursion.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Nikhil noticed other villagers stopping to listen. A crowd had gathered behind him. His words seemed to falter and stumble more often than they did normally. He looked to Pranay who gave him a slow nod. A simple gesture but it focused Nikhil’s thoughts and blew away the clouds that dulled his mind.

“He is only a boy of three years. His wits and hunting skills have not found him yet. I tracked him and saw he wandered deep into the forest.”

Nikhil braced himself.

“He was taken by a Dragon”

There were gasps. Dragons? This far south? They wouldn’t dare upset the Tree Gods by trespassing in the forest. Or would they?

“From the size of the claw prints, I am sure it is Naagnir.”

The name itself stirred fear. It made sense. Only a Dragon as old as Naagnir would come into the old forest if he pleased and suffer no consequences. A cold breeze sent a chill into the crowd. The elders started whispering and bickering amongst themselves. Only Maruti and Pranay remained silent, though Pranay’s face had hardened to steel. Nikhil raised his voice over the din.

“I ask for your aid. I must return him to his mother.”

Nihil’s throat had tightened at the end. He fought back tears. He would not show weakness. Not here. He quickly took a breath and met the gaze of the council. They were talking amongst themselves rapidly. Nikhil saw Pranay shake his head angrily at something another counselor said. Finally, Maruti held up his hand and there was silence.

“This is a true tragedy. My deepest condolences. Adish was truly the flame of our little village,” said Maruti.

Nikhil frowned. “Was?”

“We can bless your journey but no aid can be spared. We are spread thin as it is.”

“Surely we can spare a hunter or two? Adish is likely a flame caster like his father,” said Pranay loudly. Nikhil looked to him for hope. There was an uproar from the other elders. Nikhil’s jaw stiffened as he watched them bicker.

“These are troubled times. How many will die if hunters leave on this fool's errand? Nikhil alone leaving is too much I say.” said the spineless wretch Debojeeth.

“I agree,” said Sahil, another coward, “Even if the infant is a flame caster, it is not worth the risk. This is no hatchling whelp, this is Naagnir, the Godkiller. This quest is folly. We mustn't let Nikhil go, he is one of our last few flame casters.”

Nikhil’s blood was slowly heating up. He could feel the sweat on his palms evaporating. Fear had turned to rage. Heat seeped from his hands and smoke began to rise from the tips of the grass near his knees. The flame had been awoken.

“Cowards! You would forsake my boy? I will go without your blessing,” He yelled at them, sparks flying from his eyes.

“Mind yourself Nikhil! You’d dare awaken your flame in front of the Old Tree?” Maruti’s deep voice silenced Nikhil. Nikhil clenched his fist and dissipated the fire. The older elders sputtered and flailed but Maruti quickly continued as if nothing had happened. “There is nothing to be done. We cannot spare any hunters. I’m sorry, dear boy, but if it is indeed Naagnir, the boy is not likely to be still alive. I beg you not to go. You will not survive.”

The words stung Nikhil. His anger had turned to disbelief. Even Pranay was silent, though there was a pained look on his face.

“I understand why you must go. But I must ask you not to.” Pranay had said. When Nikhil refused, Pranay didn’t press further but instead began to instruct Nikhil on how the journey would unfold. Although Nikhil was going to leave immediately, Pranay made him see reason.

“It is a perilous journey. You don’t want to walk into a Dragon’s territory with your buttocks exposed. Not to mention, the swamps. Listen to me, you stupid boy. You must eat too. Gather your strength. I still have some salted meat from the last boar hunt. ”

They were at the edge of the village. Pranay was playing Kho Kho with some kids. He bounced around, dodging the little hands. He was surprisingly nimble for his age. Probably because he was one of the best hunters of his day decades ago. Nikhil sharpened his knife carefully. It was the length of his forearm and wickedly sharp. It was an ancestral blade that had been forged by one of his forefathers many years ago. His father told him that it took weeks to make as the smith folded the steel over and over again till it found perfection. Nikhil wondered if it was sharp enough to pierce Naagnir’s scales.

It took Nikhil half a day to prepare. The journey wouldn’t be easy. Nikhil couldn’t just set off in the middle of the day. He would have to leave at first light, trekking north as fast as he could. By afternoon, he should have left the sacred forests and the protection of the Banyan trees. He needed to cross through the swampy marshes before nightfall or he’d have to deal with rakshasas, sand golems, and all manners of vile creatures. Once he made it to the craggy rocks of the dragons. After that, well, it would be in Shiva’s hands.

“Shiva is kind. His eye will light your way. A quest of a man to save his son, what would please him more? Keep your eyes straight ahead and let your feet guide you,” said Pranay as darkness settled and the children ran home.

It was still dark when Nikhil slung his bow over his shoulder. As he strapped his knife to his arm, he saw Sakshi was awake. It was as if Sakshi’s tears had dried up. She wouldn’t eat. She wouldn’t sleep. She wouldn’t work. Watching her made Nikhil feel weak deep in his bones.

“I promise I won’t return without him,” Nikhil said. “I promise I’ll bring him back.” Sakshi didn't respond. She just stared into nothingness with those big beautiful brown eyes that made Nikhil’s heart hurt. Adish had the same eyes. He knelt before her and closed his own eyes.

“Bless me before I leave, my love, so I may bring our son back,” he whispered, not expecting a response. But then he felt a soft, cool kiss on his forehead. It spread a lightness across his body. Sakshi muttered a blessing and Nikhil felt his forehead sting and then the muscles of his entire body tensed up. He let out a muffled grunt as the blessing fused with his intention. He was ready.

The sunlight was beginning to creep over the mountain as Nikhil swiftly darted through the trees. The fresh scent of marigolds and champak cleared Nikhil’s nostrils and filled his lungs with strength. Nikhil kept his quick running pace through the morning. As the sun grew higher, he felt its heat start to make him sweat. However, the light also infused his inner flame with strength. He could feel his body emanating heat as he ran. His muscles pulsed and pumped with power. The trees too seemed to emanate a deep hum that carried him even faster. Nikhil almost smiled in spite of himself. It felt good to have the Gods show favor for your mission.

He was making good time. The sun wasn’t even at its highest when Nikhil made it to the swamps. The stench of the swamps found his nose before his eyes saw it. He stuffed some mint into his nostrils to stifle it but it pervaded. It seemed to weigh him down. The trees began to thin and the ground turned soft and slick. The hum of the trees seemed to fade and dull. The singing of birds turned into the vulgar croak of toads.

Nikhil felt for his knife, just to make sure it was still there. It was still daylight, but that didn’t mean he was completely safe. He slowed his pace so that he wouldn’t slip in the mud and kept his eyes moving. Anything could jump out at him at any time. That rock could be a sleeping golem. That root, a marsh snake waiting for its prey. Nikhil shook his head. He would not let paranoia take him. Yet, despite Nikhil’s mental resolve, it was hard to not let fear creep in. He had never ventured outside the forest without his hunter brothers watching his back.

But now he was alone.

Every small movement sent a flutter through Nikhil’s heart. The sun, soon directly overhead, seemed to beat down on him relentlessly. There were no tall trees to shade him anymore, only dense reeds and massive bushes that offered no shelter. Sweat flowed freely down his face and onto his neck. He quenched his thirst with his animal skin but stopped himself when he realized he was halfway through the skin already. He quickly put it away and plodded on.

It happened so subtly. So quickly that Nikhil didn’t have the time to react, to remember his training. One second he was walking steady, the next, he was ankle deep in mud. As he tried to pull his leg out of the mud, it seemed to swallow it faster. His knees had already been submerged.

His heart pounding, Nikhil struggled out of panic but only found himself sinking lower. He yanked his bow off his back and hooked it around a low hanging bush branch and held it tight. He put all his weight on the bow and slowed his descent. Breathing heavily, he tried to focus his mind. What was one supposed to do in this situation?

He thought back as far as he could. Pranay did mention something about sinking sand a while ago. Nikhil remembered that the sand contained a hungry golem deep below that had an enormous mouth that sucked visitors from the outside. The more you struggled, the more you told the predator that you were prey worth eating.

The mud was up well past his thighs now, but Nikhil knew what to do now. He slowly leaned backward till his back was touching the sand. The hot wet mud embraced his head and it began to sink. As his ears touched the mud, cold fear began to rise again in Nikhil’s heart and he started to struggle, only making him sink faster.

Focus. Breathe.

He snuffed the panic out and went limp. The weight pulling down on his legs had been released. Nikhil took a deep breath at last. He needed to think. It was impossible though in this heat. The sun’s glare was blinding. Nikhil had to jam his eyes shut. Not to mention, there was a giant monster underneath him waiting to eat him. Nikhil needed to remain still. Absolutely still. That was the only thing keeping him from suffocation and death.

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours as Nikhil tried to think of a way to kill the beast. There was no way Nikhil could do it. His bow and knife were near useless. To use them, he would have to move, and if he moved, he would be swallowed. It was quite the conundrum.

Would this be the end? Would he lay here till he starved? Would he be swallowed by the stupid beast underneath the ground? Nikhil tried to swallow but his throat was as dry as sandpaper. The sun had set which was a relief on Nikhil’s sweaty body but an agitation on his mind. He needed to get out quickly before…

He heard it before he saw it. Voices. Not human voices, but the guttural and grotesque voices of the Rakshasas.

They came with torches and wicked looking axes. As the two rakshasas scuttled over, Nikhil’s heart started pounding again. They stood over him and he saw how ugly they were. Their faces and bodies were covered in thick matted brown fur and reptilian scales. Their teeth were long and sharp. But the worst was their eyes. Their pupils were long vertical slits, just like a viper’s.

“Mmmm. I knew I smelled a human,” grunted the fat one. “Told you!”

“You’re always smelling humans, you idiot. Are you sure he’s alone?” hissed the thinner one.

“Yes, he’s the only scent I had and he’s covered in mud. Why is he covered in mud? He won’t taste too good with all that mud all over him,” the fat one said. He spoke slowly as if each word took effort to find in his mind.

“We’ll burn it off him when we cook him.”

“Please,” Nikhil sputtered. “I have a son.”

“Shut up.” The thin one punched him in the nose. He lassoed a rope around Nikhil’s arm and started yanking it. As Nikhil was drawn out of the mud and closer to the Rakshasa, he reached for his knife and tried to slash at him but found himself moving too slowly. He realized his muscles were exhausted from being tensed up all day.

“No, you don’t.” He was punched again, harder. His knife was deftly taken from his hand. This time he felt warm blood running down his mouth and chin. They tied him up with strong rope that stung his skin. He was then hoisted over the fat one’s shoulder. He bounced up and down, smashing his chin again and again as the fat one began to walk. Nikhil was looking behind at the other Rakshasa. Even though he seemed thinner than the other one, Nikhil realized that he was not thin at all. Beneath the fur and scales was corded muscle. He was tall too, well over seven feet even though he was hunched over in his posture. His movements in the treacherous swamp were precise and natural, like an animal’s. Nikhil’s bow, knife, and arrows dangled like child’s playthings on the Rakshasa’s shoulder.

Rakshasas were no easy fight. Even a seasoned hunter, in a fair fight, would barely stand a chance. Nikhil was tied up, bleeding, and sore all over beyond belief, and there were two Rakshasas. But then again, Nikhil hadn’t played his trump card. He closed his eyes and meditated, sending a prayer to Lord Shiva. He summoned strength and found his forehead throbbing. It was slowly sending power to his limbs.

They soon reached a clearing full of sand where it seemed the Rakshasas wanted to cook Nikhil. When they set him down, Nikhil was ready. However, the key to a good tactic was knowing the right time to strike so he pretended to still be weak and flopped down uselessly. The thin one sent the fat one away to gather dry sticks and kindling, leaving Nikhil alone with him.

Nikhil sat up and faced the Rakshasa and began to rub his palms together. It was hard with the ropes tied behind his back but also better that way since they were hidden from view. He soon felt a warmth that started to spread throughout his body.

“What’s your name human?” said the Rakshasa.

“Nikhil, after my father. And yours?”

“Shakuri,” he said with a toothy grin. He seemed to like the sound of his own name. “What are you doing all the way out here outside the safety of your tree Gods?”

The sparks in Nikhil’s hands had begun to eat through the ropes. Just a little more.

“I am looking for my son.”

Shakuri’s ears piqued. “Ahh. Young human meat. The tastiest they say. I never tried it myself but if the legends are true…” he licked his lips with a long forked tongue. “Where is your son lost exactly?”

“Naagnir took him.”

It was a powerful name. Just saying it seemed to put a flicker of doubt in Shakuri’s eyes but then he threw back his head and laughed.

“You were trying to go take him back from Naagnir? You humans are all fools. Your child is his now.”

Nikhil stared at him with a burning hatred. Shakuri seemed to enjoy this stare.

Shakuri continued, “I’m doing you a favor. We’ll eat you quickly. Naagnir won’t do the same. Maybe he’d keep you as a slave, eat you one limb at a time.”

The fat one came back into the clearing. Nikhil was surprised at how silently the lumbering creature moved. He set down a bundle of sticks and some clumps of dried grass. Shakuri tossed him some obsidian flint rocks and the fat one started smacking them together.

“It's too windy!” he complained as the sparks that the rocks didn’t spread. Nikhil felt a flutter in his gut and knew it was time. Now or never. He slowly wriggled to position himself, still holding his arms behind his back and focused on the two enemies. He curled his left hand into a fist around some sand.

“You want fire?” Nikhil said. He sprang up and spat an inferno the size of a horse straight at the fat Rakshasa. Then he ran towards Shakuri and flung sand into his wide eyes. Nikhil went straight for his weapon, grabbing his ancestral blade from next to the flailing Shakuri.

The fat one was on fire, screaming and rolling in the sand in pain. Nikhil swung his knife towards Shakuri’s calf, slicing deep and making him howl but then quickly turning to the fat Rakshasa. He went to work, stabbing and slicing his tendons and muscles. Each stab brought forth a louder bellow until finally, the great beast fell into the sand, smoldering and silent.

Nikhil turned to Shakuri who was just finishing rubbing the sand from his eyes. The gash on his leg flowed freely with black blood. Shakuri swung his axe around, foaming at the mouth, the cool demeanor from earlier all but forgotten. He got up and rushed at Nikhil though his speed was stunted due to his injured leg. Nikhil was ready for the charge, he had been feeding his flame with the smoldering fat Rakshasa behind him. He had one shot and one shot only. He didn’t stand a chance in a fair duel. He spat a fireball straight into Shakuri’s chest. It spread quickly and Nikhil moved in fast. He stabbed and cut viciously, black blood spurted out of the wounds and covered Nikhil. Soon Nikhil was done. The Rakshasas were dead. Nikhil collapsed on the ground, utterly exhausted.

He forced himself up and doused the fires with sand. Then he gathered his bow and arrows and limped out of the clearing. He needed to get away from the bodies before they attracted anything else. As the first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon, he pushed through the tall reeds only to find himself looking up at a craggy, rocky plain. He’d already arrived at the home of the dragons.

The air had begun to thin as Nikhil went higher and higher. The blood and mud on his face and body had dried, making it painful to walk. His skin felt like it stretched and hurt with every step. But he had his eyes on the destination: the tall lonely peak in the center of the ravines. That was the lair of Naagnir. Nikhil plodded towards it, grunting with every step.

There was no danger on the ground because the skies were where the dragons were. He saw an occasional dark wing in the clouds or heard the dull thumps of scaled wings. When he did, he would scramble for the shelter of a rock and wait till it was silent again. It was a pathetic way to travel. At first, Nikhil thought the scent of the Rakshasa’s blood would attract the dragons. But he soon realized that the bitter aroma would attract nothing but flies. They buzzed around his face, trying to get into his mouth. Nikhil spat them out when they did, disgusted. His eyes searched in vain for a stream or a pond where he could wash but he found nothing.

The day wore on and soon the sun began to set, Nikhil started to lose his footing in the dark. The stones were sharp and pierced through his worn sandals, sending sharp pains up through his feet. Nikhil was wandering aimlessly through the ravines. He could not even see the destination anymore since the walls of the ravines he was in were so tall. Though Nikhil was a man, full grown, he started to feel like a helpless little boy, stumbling around in the dark. He felt like sitting down and crying. He just wanted to rest. To be clean. To hold his wife and son and be happy.

It was an impossible quest after all. Naagnir would crush him in an instant. Nikhil had heard folk stories of dragons who had been slain. One had been slain by a black arrow that had pierced a bare patch on his belly. One had been killed by rakshasas who had swarmed it when it had crash landed in the swamps. One had been stabbed in the eye while it battled an army. But these legends are stories to be told around the fireside. They had only spoonfuls of truth in them. Nikhil wondered if Naagnir had any weak spots at all.

Nikhil closed his eyes and knelt on the ground. The hard rocks pinched his knees. He sent a prayer to Lord Shiva again. He opened his eyes, expecting the God to be standing over him smiling with his trident. But of course, Gods don’t work in such obvious ways. Nikhil hung his head, defeated.

A cloud moved and moonlight lit up the world. Nikhil opened his eyes and brought his attention away from his thoughts and to his surroundings. The massive full moon loomed overhead. Thousands of little rocks were at his feet. And then, at the very edge of his perception, there was a gurgling sound. Water.

Nikhil rushed towards the sound, ignoring the pain in his feet from the sharp stones. He rounded a corner and saw a large pool of beautiful clear water. It glowed silver in the moonlight. He slowly got in and felt the cool of it relax his muscles. The stones at the bottom were smooth and round. They felt like cushions to Nikhil’s tired feet. The dried sticky mud and blood dissolved in the pool but it was so big, it didn’t seem to change color at all. Nikhil felt his heart swell with gratitude.

A few seconds passed before Nikhil fully took in his surroundings. Around him, obsidian stones gleamed in the moonlight. It dawned on him that the pool was not natural, it was a bath. He realized he was at the foot of the mountain where Naagnir made his lair.

The ancient Dragon himself had been watching Nikhil all this time, perched atop the mountain. He swooped down and landed in the pool with barely a slash. Nikhil knew the colossal dragon was underneath him. He felt himself rise out of the pool on top of the Dragon’s claw. Then Naagnir’s head emerged.

Nikhil had never seen a dragon this close before. The sheer scale of the beast was more than Nikhil could have ever imagined. Despite all the animal fear that overcame his body, Nikhil had to admit Naagnir was beautiful, terrifyingly so. His dark scales shone multicolored in the moonlight. They flashed dark shades of purple, indigo, and orange. Nikhil didn’t understand how that was even possible but he had bigger things to worry about.

Naagnir’s eyes stared down at Nikhil. They seemed to pierce his soul. The being in front of him was as old as my Gods, Nikhil thought to himself. He didn’t dare to speak.

“Who are you to taint my water with the blood of vermin?” Naagnir’s voice seemed to penetrate through Nikhil’s body and straight into his mind. It was louder than anything Nikhil had ever heard and deeper than the primal hum of the Tree Gods. It seemed to make the entire mountain shake.

“I am Nikhil. Father of Adish, the boy you took.” His voice sounded shrill in comparison, like a baby crying.

Naagnir was silent. Nikhil could not read his face because this face was nothing like a human face. It was beyond the comprehension of Nikhil’s mind.

“You must think me evil,” rumbled Naagnir. Nikhil breathed heavily. “If you are not evil then what are you?” he thought but did not dare speak. Naagnir continued, “Do you even understand the purpose for which I took him?”

“I don’t know but please, I must have him back,” Nikhil said. He felt like a little boy, stomping his feet at an old man for taking away his toy without understanding anything of the world.

Nikhil saw Adish. Adish the little baby, barely older than three, climbed over Naagnir's shoulder. He gasped. The child seemed oddly comfortable.

“He carries the power of the flame. To continue my life, I must consume him when he learns to wield it. I have lived a million of your lifetimes human. How important to the world is this child’s life compared to mine? Or yours?”

It was then that Nikhil understood. There was a decision to be made. It was something that he had felt deep in his heart from the moment he sent out a prayer to Lord Shiva and set out on his quest. No… it was deeper than that, older too. He had this same feeling when he named his son: Adish, the word for fire sacrifice.

“I understand,” Nikhil said, tears falling freely. He took out his ancestral knife and laid it on Naagnir’s mammoth claw. “I must ask you for a favor though.”

Sakshi awoke in the middle of the night to a loud massive rustling sound. She rushed outside her hut to see something massive far above her head disappear into the clouds. She looked down to see her son. Her beautiful baby boy on the ground. He clung tightly to a large knife. His little fingers were cut by the edge. It was his father’s blade.