Continued from last week. If you have not read Part I, Click here
When I came to, I felt so embarrassed! There had been a battle. Even the half-drunk fighters had mustered enough of their powers to keep the enemies at bay, but all I had done was swoon, not to get up till everything was over. And when I did, I felt as if I had fought a war! I felt so weak and helpless.
I was still in the dining room, waiting for the others to return. My hand trembled as I tried to sip a glass of water. The weary fighters returned one by one. Some were injured. Luckily no one was dead. I quietly slipped away before anyone noticed me and went back to bed. The exhaustion and shame made me take cover. Hopefully, I could pretend I did not know about the fight. I am sure my parents will not give me away. As I wallowed in self-pity, I thought of my maternal grandmother and started understanding a little about why she would be so quiet when tales of fights were exchanged. She would go off to the kitchen and cook up large meals on such occasions.
As time slipped by, I wondered if my parents were fine. They hadn't even peeped in to check out on me, which was not like them at all! Whatever their disappointment, it was not like them to neglect me. I had given them enough reasons to disapprove of me in the past, but they had always been kind and understanding.
When I came down, the house was silent and empty. I went looking for my parents and paused outside the small library my father had indulged in. The most silent place at all times, today I could hear loud voices. I first thought my parents were arguing about me, but realised that there was a third, deeper and more authoritative voice also joining in. I blushed deeply as my hand paused over the door handle. I couldn't help listening in.
"You do not understand anything," the voice erupted.
My mother, for once, was silenced. No one spoke to her like that, no one! Just one glance and they would feel the heat. But this man seemed to have got away with it and how! My mother nearly whimpered. "What is there to understand?"
The man seemed to soften up. "Not everything is clear before it's time." They seemed to have sunk into discussing philosophy. I was disappointed as the voice said, "And not everybody understands everything... You stick to your role."
"I am no child," my mother said with spirit.
"No..."
"And that's my child!" My interest perked up.
There was a pause before the man replied in a grave voice, "You know it well that you cannot hold on... She has to be sent for training."
"For what? Is that light her thing? What training does she need for that?" I heard the bitterness in my mother's voice. My father called out soothingly but she ignored him, "Unless it is to cook or nurse the soldiers."
"You think that's a worthless task?" the man asked in a challenging tone. A knife twisted in my heart.
"No," my mother replied hastily. "But it doesn't bring glory," she added in a hard voice.
The man laughed. "Is that what you are after? Glory?"
"No!" My mother replied hurriedly. "But we belong to a family that has stood at the forefront of all battles! To have my daughter swoon!"
"Swoon!" the man exclaimed."Is that what she did?" I could have buried myself somewhere! How could my mother do this to me! "Then I think it is imperative that we train her! You may come in now," he said and the door opened suddenly. I gaped at him in consternation, but he pulled me in and closed the door. My mother glared at me, but my father stretched an arm and I ran to him.
"Train in what?" my mom asked through gritted teeth. "And were you listening at the door?" she turned her anger on me.
"Why? To be useful when a fight is happening, just like your mother!" the man said smoothly. I blushed and glared at him and a flash of lightning erupted in my mind.
He turned to look at me fully, meeting my blazing eyes with an amused glance. "Careful what you think, young lady," he said, throwing me off balance.
I appraised him more closely. He was about my father's age, tall and broad-shouldered, black hair and black beard, powerful-looking arms and build. His deep voice went well with his persona. There was an aura around him, a blue light that glowed. It was strangely reassuring.
This was the first time I had seen anything like this, so I turned to look at my parents. I could detect a faint amber around my mother, mixed with grey, which was probably caused by her mood. My father's was translucent, an undefined colour, but definitely there. I became aware of some power he seemed to be withholding and sensed the throbbing in his hand that held me. I looked at his face and saw that he too seemed angry, but with whom, I could not make out.
All this took less than a minute, you understand? Not as if time stood still while I looked around or that everybody was waiting for me to say or do something. The sensations crowded around me in a rush. So my parents barely noticed anything. And the man was talking again (oh, how he loved to hear his own voice!). "You can't lose anything in any case, can you, Jwala?" he asked my mother, addressing her by her element name. She had been named Arunima as a child, but once she discovered her element, she was called by that name. So in a theatre of 500 capacity, there could easily be a 10 Jwala or Prajjwal for men who used fire as their weapon. My father, named Uday, became Pawan, while a woman would be called Nirupa. Oh yes, children were given names related to the sun because that was our centre of power.
My own name Tara would also be left behind and I would be called Deepika, like my grandmother. I felt my heart sink. I had always acted so superior with her! Oh, I loved the great spread she made every time we visited her, but she was nothing more than a cook for me. I would sulk and ignore her, but she seemed to have never minded it. Just smiled and made more of her tasty dishes.
"What you resist will persist," my father had always warned me. How true it was in my life! I had wanted something fancy, maybe fire and wind powers. And here I was, with light. Light!
The man's eyes were on me again. "And you have everything to gain," he said softly.
My mother didn't seem particularly convinced. "Stay for dinner," she said and swept out of the room.
The man waved to her receding back and then looked at me with a smile. "So you swooned?" he laughed.
My father got up angrily. "Enough, Manas! She is just a young girl! You don't have to make her feel ashamed of something she had no control over!" And my father stormed out too!
I was left alone with the stranger. Manas? Mind reader?
"Yes," he said. "Bhaskar," he extended his hand. I didn't want to take it, but I did as I battled with my thoughts, trying to keep them at bay. He laughed again, and though it was irritating to be laughed at so much, I couldn't help thinking that it was an attractive laugh.
"Thank you. No, I don't probe without permission, but yours are just spilling out all over, and since it's about me, it reaches me faster." He added in a gentler voice, "I am not laughing at you. Your parents don't understand your capabilities yet." He frowned and again preempted me by saying, "You don't either, do you? What happened during the battle?" he asked me softly.
I drew a deep breath in and said with gritted teeth. "I swooned." The fool!
He frowned. "Swoon?" he asked and then burst out laughing again. "You didn't sense or see anything?"
I shook my head slowly. "It was all black."
He straightened up and nodded thoughtfully. "I see, yes, I see you are telling the truth. Maybe that's for the best." He looked at me and smiled, "Never mind." He patted me on my back. "Don't worry, we will sort this out," he said reassuringly. "Pack your bag. Not much, just the essentials, and we will leave after dinner."
"Are we going to the training school by sea?" I asked eagerly. He shook his head, "We are going to meet your grandmother."
"But she is dead!" I said.
He winked, "She is, isn't she?" And he laughed again.
(To be continued)
When I came to, I felt so embarrassed! There had been a battle. Even the half-drunk fighters had mustered enough of their powers to keep the enemies at bay, but all I had done was swoon, not to get up till everything was over. And when I did, I felt as if I had fought a war! I felt so weak and helpless.
I was still in the dining room, waiting for the others to return. My hand trembled as I tried to sip a glass of water. The weary fighters returned one by one. Some were injured. Luckily no one was dead. I quietly slipped away before anyone noticed me and went back to bed. The exhaustion and shame made me take cover. Hopefully, I could pretend I did not know about the fight. I am sure my parents will not give me away. As I wallowed in self-pity, I thought of my maternal grandmother and started understanding a little about why she would be so quiet when tales of fights were exchanged. She would go off to the kitchen and cook up large meals on such occasions.
As time slipped by, I wondered if my parents were fine. They hadn't even peeped in to check out on me, which was not like them at all! Whatever their disappointment, it was not like them to neglect me. I had given them enough reasons to disapprove of me in the past, but they had always been kind and understanding.
When I came down, the house was silent and empty. I went looking for my parents and paused outside the small library my father had indulged in. The most silent place at all times, today I could hear loud voices. I first thought my parents were arguing about me, but realised that there was a third, deeper and more authoritative voice also joining in. I blushed deeply as my hand paused over the door handle. I couldn't help listening in.
"You do not understand anything," the voice erupted.
My mother, for once, was silenced. No one spoke to her like that, no one! Just one glance and they would feel the heat. But this man seemed to have got away with it and how! My mother nearly whimpered. "What is there to understand?"
The man seemed to soften up. "Not everything is clear before it's time." They seemed to have sunk into discussing philosophy. I was disappointed as the voice said, "And not everybody understands everything... You stick to your role."
"I am no child," my mother said with spirit.
"No..."
"And that's my child!" My interest perked up.
There was a pause before the man replied in a grave voice, "You know it well that you cannot hold on... She has to be sent for training."
"For what? Is that light her thing? What training does she need for that?" I heard the bitterness in my mother's voice. My father called out soothingly but she ignored him, "Unless it is to cook or nurse the soldiers."
"You think that's a worthless task?" the man asked in a challenging tone. A knife twisted in my heart.
"No," my mother replied hastily. "But it doesn't bring glory," she added in a hard voice.
The man laughed. "Is that what you are after? Glory?"
"No!" My mother replied hurriedly. "But we belong to a family that has stood at the forefront of all battles! To have my daughter swoon!"
"Swoon!" the man exclaimed."Is that what she did?" I could have buried myself somewhere! How could my mother do this to me! "Then I think it is imperative that we train her! You may come in now," he said and the door opened suddenly. I gaped at him in consternation, but he pulled me in and closed the door. My mother glared at me, but my father stretched an arm and I ran to him.
"Train in what?" my mom asked through gritted teeth. "And were you listening at the door?" she turned her anger on me.
"Why? To be useful when a fight is happening, just like your mother!" the man said smoothly. I blushed and glared at him and a flash of lightning erupted in my mind.
He turned to look at me fully, meeting my blazing eyes with an amused glance. "Careful what you think, young lady," he said, throwing me off balance.
I appraised him more closely. He was about my father's age, tall and broad-shouldered, black hair and black beard, powerful-looking arms and build. His deep voice went well with his persona. There was an aura around him, a blue light that glowed. It was strangely reassuring.
This was the first time I had seen anything like this, so I turned to look at my parents. I could detect a faint amber around my mother, mixed with grey, which was probably caused by her mood. My father's was translucent, an undefined colour, but definitely there. I became aware of some power he seemed to be withholding and sensed the throbbing in his hand that held me. I looked at his face and saw that he too seemed angry, but with whom, I could not make out.
All this took less than a minute, you understand? Not as if time stood still while I looked around or that everybody was waiting for me to say or do something. The sensations crowded around me in a rush. So my parents barely noticed anything. And the man was talking again (oh, how he loved to hear his own voice!). "You can't lose anything in any case, can you, Jwala?" he asked my mother, addressing her by her element name. She had been named Arunima as a child, but once she discovered her element, she was called by that name. So in a theatre of 500 capacity, there could easily be a 10 Jwala or Prajjwal for men who used fire as their weapon. My father, named Uday, became Pawan, while a woman would be called Nirupa. Oh yes, children were given names related to the sun because that was our centre of power.
My own name Tara would also be left behind and I would be called Deepika, like my grandmother. I felt my heart sink. I had always acted so superior with her! Oh, I loved the great spread she made every time we visited her, but she was nothing more than a cook for me. I would sulk and ignore her, but she seemed to have never minded it. Just smiled and made more of her tasty dishes.
"What you resist will persist," my father had always warned me. How true it was in my life! I had wanted something fancy, maybe fire and wind powers. And here I was, with light. Light!
The man's eyes were on me again. "And you have everything to gain," he said softly.
My mother didn't seem particularly convinced. "Stay for dinner," she said and swept out of the room.
The man waved to her receding back and then looked at me with a smile. "So you swooned?" he laughed.
My father got up angrily. "Enough, Manas! She is just a young girl! You don't have to make her feel ashamed of something she had no control over!" And my father stormed out too!
I was left alone with the stranger. Manas? Mind reader?
"Yes," he said. "Bhaskar," he extended his hand. I didn't want to take it, but I did as I battled with my thoughts, trying to keep them at bay. He laughed again, and though it was irritating to be laughed at so much, I couldn't help thinking that it was an attractive laugh.
"Thank you. No, I don't probe without permission, but yours are just spilling out all over, and since it's about me, it reaches me faster." He added in a gentler voice, "I am not laughing at you. Your parents don't understand your capabilities yet." He frowned and again preempted me by saying, "You don't either, do you? What happened during the battle?" he asked me softly.
I drew a deep breath in and said with gritted teeth. "I swooned." The fool!
He frowned. "Swoon?" he asked and then burst out laughing again. "You didn't sense or see anything?"
I shook my head slowly. "It was all black."
He straightened up and nodded thoughtfully. "I see, yes, I see you are telling the truth. Maybe that's for the best." He looked at me and smiled, "Never mind." He patted me on my back. "Don't worry, we will sort this out," he said reassuringly. "Pack your bag. Not much, just the essentials, and we will leave after dinner."
"Are we going to the training school by sea?" I asked eagerly. He shook his head, "We are going to meet your grandmother."
"But she is dead!" I said.
He winked, "She is, isn't she?" And he laughed again.
(To be continued)
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