Chapter 4 - Enigmatic Encounter

*Rama's Reflection*

By the riverbank, I clutched a bundle of wild herbs, a sense of urgency urging me on. The jungle's harsh environment demanded that I tend to our wounds promptly to avoid infection. My loyal companion, Chetak, stood nearby, his eyes reflecting trust and patience.

Reflecting on our miraculous survival from the fall, I couldn't help but feel a moment of relief seeing Chetak by my side as I regained consciousness. Embracing him, if only briefly, made me forget our hardships. But the stark reality of our circumstances returned swiftly.

"Old friend, we've faced worse, haven't we?" I whispered to Chetak, filled with gratitude and reassurance. In response, he offered a soft, comforting neigh, conveying understanding and solace.

With newfound determination, I began to grind the wild herbs into a paste, using a nearby stone. Gently, I applied the herbal remedy to Chetak's wound first, tending to the deep gash on his neck. He remained still, allowing me to complete the care.

"There is no finer steed than you, my friend," I expressed, deeply thankful for his unwavering companionship as I kissed his head.

Once Chetak's wound had received the care it needed, I turned my attention to my own injuries. The pain shot through me as I applied the paste to my wounds, but I welcomed it as a reminder of our resilience.

As our wounds received the care we could provide, a sense of relief and purpose washed over me. Continuing our journey along the river was imperative; it was our lifeline in this unfamiliar terrain, leading us away from Keralaputram and closer to the hope of finding a village.

As we followed the river's meandering path, I couldn't help but ponder our surroundings. The jungle loomed around us, its secrets concealed behind dense foliage. The chirping of birds and the distant rustle of leaves filled the air, serving as a constant reminder of the untamed wilderness enveloping us.

Then, guided by destiny or chance, we stumbled upon a hut nestled among the trees. It was a peculiar sight, deeply embedded within this untouched wilderness. The hut appeared modest, constructed from reeds and leaves, and an iron axe lay nearby with an unusually long handle.

Driven by curiosity, I called out, "Is anyone there?" Silence greeted my inquiry, and a sense of unease settled in my gut. Cautiously, I approached, peering inside the hut's entrance. My gaze fell upon a simple reed bed and the iron axe, which intrigued me with its unique design.

Just as I contemplated leaving, a voice from behind startled me. "That's my hut, who are you?" The man emerged from the forest, dressed in a tiger skin around his muscular torso and a dhoti. Matted locks framed a face radiating wisdom and strength.

Our eyes locked, and I could feel his penetrating scrutiny. "I am Rama Varma Kulasekhara," I introduced myself cautiously.

"A Kshatriya dares to venture here?" he mused aloud, his gaze fixed on my chest. With a gesture defying belief, he summoned his axe into his hand, and it flew to him as if guided by some unseen force.

Before I could react, he charged toward me with inhuman speed, intent on attacking. Astonishingly, he halted abruptly, his hand clutching my clothing around my chest, where the Samantak Mani pendant lay concealed.

He released his grip and began to walk away without a word, his axe by his side. Then, pausing without facing me, he said, "You are welcome to stay until your wounds heal," before vanishing into the forest.

*Parshuram's Vigil*

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the forest in hues of orange and purple, I emerged from the dense thicket. My senses had alerted me to intruders in my territory, and with my bow drawn, I advanced cautiously.

Through the trees, I spotted a man, peering into my hut. He appeared weary and injured, accompanied by a magnificent horse. My piercing gaze was drawn to the area around the man's chest, where an undeniable power emanated. I knew I had to tread carefully.

Just as he was about to withdraw, I stepped out from the forest and asked, "That's my hut, who are you?"

As our eyes met, I sensed his intense scrutiny. "I am Rama Varma Kulasekhara," he introduced himself cautiously.

"A Kshatriya dares to venture here?" I mused, my gaze still fixed on his chest. I could not allow such power to remain in the hands of those known to misuse it. Summoning my axe into my hand, I sent it flying as if guided by some unseen force.

I charged at the man with a speed that defied human comprehension.

The man stood his ground, and the power emanating from his chest became unmistakable. I realized the source of this extraordinary energy—Samantak Mani. I halted my axe just as it was about to strike him. I grabbed the pendant under his garments, confirming what I already knew.

Our conversation turned into a silent exchange as the truth became apparent to me. The man possessed the Samantak Mani, though he appeared unaware of its true nature. But if destiny had bestowed the Samantak Mani upon him, then who was I to interfere with the divine rule of law?

With this understanding, I released my grip and walked away, retreating into the forest with a sense of purpose.