The Charioteer's Bow
Copyright© 2016 by BharatMytho0404
Chapter 1
12 AD Eastern India
He was running through the woods.
Fear, which would normally paralyze grown, able-bodied men, spurred him to run faster. His amber eyes, a silent testament to the nightmare he witnessed, are wide with terror. And rightly so, for he has encountered something so dark, so evil, that his juvenile mind shut down completely. He just ran.
He has heard of stories of monsters, and brave heroes who have slain them time and again. He brushed them off, for he beileved them to be just that: stories, fables created by men to guide future generations towards spiritual enlightenment. Only, this was no story, and he was definitely no hero.
As abnormal as his eyes were, it is nothing compared to that horror, that ... creature born of humankind's deepest nightmare, which is following him this very moment. That very though spurred him on.
If his mind wasn't seared with the images he witnessed and his ears filled with the sound of thundering blood, he would have noticed that the forest has gone completely silent. Gone are the sound of crickets, the hooting of owls or the rustling of the leaf canopy. The only sound being heard are his panicked breaths and footsteps filled with sheer panic.
As much as he wishes to turn around, he is afraid. Afraid that if he sees it, his legs will compeletely fail him. He has to outrun this nightmare at all cost. This nightmare, which can possibly destroy his world.
'No, that cannot happen. I have to get to Guruji' he thought. He had to get to him, to warn him of the impending danger beyond Nalanda Vihara. If only his Guruji knew that the horrors written in those scrolls are as real as the thundering in his ears.
Except that this monster was not born. It was made
Guruji awoke with a start. The bodhi tree, under which he usually sleeps, is quiet. Unsually so. Even the pleasant breeze which accompanies the perfect view of the stars, is absent tonight. It was as if the leaves were terrified of rustling. It was the silence of the dead, or, even worse, a portent of death.
He was worried for Charukesa, his favorite pupil. As a guru, he was forbidden to show favoritism to any single student, and today it was Charukesa's turn to get herbs from the Brahmyoni hills.