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The Eighth God is Man

For what is war if not the bond between brothers? For what is war if not the conflict between heroes? Our Young Grass whose name is Kush is out to find out the answer. He meant to find his brother in Little Prince Vajradandaka. He shared nothing in common with the prince but the same type of nickname. Kush is Grass, Vajra is Catus. Grass and Cactus bond with an inherent fluency. Their love is spontaneous and direct. Grass and Catus fight. They are bound to. Just as desert and fertile plains fight. They are bound to. Visit this dichotomy of war and peace between two loving young friends who never did turn enemies. They were simply bound by their individual paths to meet in conflict. PS: EGIM is a novel full of Indian myths and spiritual elements. It is a different world with alternate history, martial powers and new ideals. Please check out and read to the full. ---- Author's comment: I would love to hear your reviews and comments. Don't forget to vote if you like the story!

sneha · War
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121 Chs

Adoption ( Part 5 )

He felt himself becoming silly, so he went to the only place he believed he could calm himself a little. He went to the lake. Unfortunately, the terrain he needed to climb to get there was rough and he slipped many times in his restlessness and fury. They say that the Manas Sarovar can only be reached by those pure of mind and tranquil of heart for this exact reason. The great general Kush of the Maruts who razed cities and subdued even the terrifying Asuras was actually unable to climb a little mountain to get to a lake on the other side.

Helpless, he fell on his knees on a piece of stone and screamed into the mist covered valley. "I don't care about who wants me teacher! I only want to be your child, don't you get it!!"

Tears coated his eyelashes. Unfamiliar with the feeling, Kush rose and turned his back to the Manas Sarovar. He ran, throwing one last statement towards his back where he believed where his teacher was, "And what about the promise you made to Bhargava, huh? You think he didn't tell me? You promised to adopt me with him. Was it all just a lie?"

Afraid that he would break down, Kush left the place quickly, feeling that every touch of the breeze, the sound of gravel and even the mist that was shrouding his teacher was his teacher. He felt disturbed, thinking he expected too much. After coming in contact with the Asuras, he understood a master disciple relationship more deeply. It was supposed to be a pure channel of wisdom from teacher to student with no other emotions involved. Unknowingly, however, Kush had long compared Ashangi to his own mother and accepted her as her replacement. When she took him he was just a child who felt tormented by his mother's desire to sell him away. Ashangi was no epitome of matronly behaviour either. She was silent and cold and she left him alone in the jungle for hours and even days sometimes. Though it appeared that she was always around, who really knows in the end? Still, she didn't sell him away, so in the end she was able to take over Kush's mother's position in his heart. Maybe if Ashangi explained earlier on what a master-disciple relationship was, he wouldn't have had these thoughts.

Or maybe she did and he just forgot…

Unknowingly, Kush roamed for an entire day without result. He even went back to his room a few times. He saw food waiting for him there, but never touched a morsel. He wanted to run away from the temple, but he couldn't. He was overcome by all the sights of blood and gore in his memories. All the desperate times when he brought his men to protect the caravans bringing the women and children, only to realise they were a step late. Only to hear the helpless wails of his comrades and their red eyes filled with the thirst for vengeance. Only to rally the armies again and go on another round of conquests. Wandering, fighting, getting injured, healing and then getting injured again. Without a single safe place to rest his head at in this xenophobic Aryan world.

Kush wanted to run, he couldn't accept being adopted by anyone else other than his teacher. But every time he took a step towards one of his escape routes, he couldn't take a single step forward. He couldn't be selfish. For his men, he couldn't leave this refuge.

The temple is a refuge…yes. He never came here to conquer. The priests say it all the time. Manas cannot be conquered. Manas can only be sought refuge in.

So why should I rule when I simply came to hide?!

Tears streaming his face, Kush crisscrossed across the various pathways and came to one of the ancient segments of the temple. This place was lately not in use because its significance in the temple's lore was different than what they were currently following. As to how it was different, Kush neither knew nor cared.

Running into the shrine, Kush found the deepest room where the god statues were usually placed. It was behind the room with the altar where devotees offer prayers. This room was dark and damp. The main statues of gods were usually kept in such places and devotees were usually not allowed all the way in there. It was called a garbha griha or womb, symbolizing the formless state of gods that live there. Kush quickly ducked behind the statues of the god and goddess who looked no different than the married couple next door. Hiding behind the two, he lay restlessly, tossing this way and that with indecisive thoughts.

Another reason Kush didn't run was Vajra's statement that he was now more powerful than him. Kush didn't find it that hard to believe. Just like Vajra said, he actually did not have an easy time winning against him in their duel in the Damayanti pass. He was not very strong, not even when Kush didn't use internal power. But he had a knack to observe and modulate his moves. He could preserve himself for a long time before he made his move and just when he did, Kush would instinctually make the wrong move. That fight was actually where Kush realised that his instincts can sometimes work against him in a fight with a smarter opponent. His strategy against the Asuras was also conceived through this knowledge. Though the barbarians weren't as educated as the Asuras, they knew aspects of their instincts that the Asuras didn't. In that one respect, they were smarter. Since that fight, Kush also grew stronger and smarter. Vajra might not win against him even with divine power. But he knew it was only a matter of time before he closed the gap. That's what the boy really meant by that statement in the letter. If he cannot win against Vajra physically, Kush would then need his state to be more powerful. Manas was a good start. Kush couldn't deny that.

He tossed and turned because of all these reasons. He didn't want to think about them, he didn't want to convince himself to get adopted. The converse was actually true. But all his thoughts ran towards the reasons for it and there were none that were against it. Only his emotions were against it. The internal upheaval consumed him till night as he beat the stone statues, grunted and groaned, but still couldn't release himself from the pain of indecisiveness. Eventually, his body gave out and Kush slipped into a restless sleep.

At midnight, Kush was woken by unexpected noises. He realised there were people in the temple, quite a lot of them. By their footsteps, he identified about sixty to seventy sets. They were arranging items, some of which were heavy while some of which were light. Yet, they did it in a quick and practiced manner. Within moments, Kush heard an altar being set up and a sacrificial fire being started in the shrine's hall. Kush sucked his breath in surprise. He was not expected to use this old shrine. He was even more worried about their reasons for choosing this place. Did they find out I was here?

He wanted the brahmins to get busy with their prayers so that he could slowly slip out. Soon enough, they began their chanting and the chorus reverberating within the womb house where he was. Kush was lulled into inaction for a moment by that uniform and ancient sound. Just when he wondered if he lost his chance to escape, he heard a very familiar voice. He gasped and ran out.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!

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