The Maruti Yantra

The air in the meadow felt electric as Onish looked deep into the glowing eyes of the white ashva. It was as if the horse's very soul beckoned him into a silent communion, a quiet understanding shared between them. As Onish allowed his awareness to blend with the spirit of the horse, it wasn't just a ride—it was an ethereal fusion, a melding of his spirit with the beast's.

Bhadra's voice drifted into his consciousness like a gentle breeze, snapping him out of the momentary reverie. "Remember, boy, the Ashvas can sense your emotions. Your excitement will be theirs. So don't let it rule you."

The command in his mentor's voice brought Onish back to the present. But as the horse began to trot forward, its power surged through him. The wind tousled his hair and kissed his face as if it were an extension of the horse's very spirit. They galloped across the lush meadow, the earth beneath them a blur. In that moment, Onish felt not like a rider, but like the very wind itself, racing against the horizon, the pulse of the world thrumming through his body.

But it didn't take long before Bhadra's warning crept into his mind. The exhilarating rush began to feel less like freedom and more like a loss of control. His grin slowly faded as he noticed the way the horse's desires—its longing to race, to run wild—were beginning to influence his own thoughts. The thrill of the ride was becoming overwhelming, and a surge of energy, raw and untamed, filled him. He could feel the Ashva pulling him toward an almost reckless speed, toward an endless chase. His heart pounded, both in exhilaration and rising anxiety. He needed to reign it in.

"Boy, rein your emotions!" Bhadra's voice sliced through the air. "Or you'll lose yourself to it. These creatures don't obey the way normal horses do. They are beings of spirit, wild and free. Only a true hossler can contain them, control their will. You're not there yet!"

Onish's face flushed with realization. How foolish he had been to let his excitement rule him. It was a battle within, one that required discipline—emotional, mental, and spiritual. He managed to steady his thoughts, drawing on every ounce of willpower. The Ashva slowed, responding to his shift in focus, its fiery desire for freedom quelling as Onish took charge once more.

Bhadra's mocking chuckle reached his ears as the two horses trotted side by side. "Did you get it now, why I teased Manda so? His obsession with the Ashvas is... consuming. He's a slave to them, not the other way around. You'll see, it's easy to fall into their trap."

Onish nodded, but the mention of Manda's fiery temper made him curious. Would he, too, fall prey to the Ashva's influence if he spent enough time with them? He glanced at Bhadra, noting the underlying caution in his mentor's words.

The rest of the ride through the woods passed quietly. The world around them felt sacred, wrapped in a hushed tranquility. They avoided the creeping vines that snaked toward them, the occasional ember bee that buzzed near their heads, the murmurs of the ancient trees that seemed to whisper secrets from another time. Onish could feel the weight of the forest's timelessness pressing in, grounding him as they made their way to the creek.

Bhadra dismounted, allowing the Ashvas to wander freely. "This is where your real training begins, boy." He gestured to the creek, its water flowing in a clear, sparkling stream. Onish followed suit, dismounting and following Bhadra to the water's edge.

"Now that your spirit body is forged," Bhadra began, his voice taking on a serious tone, "it's time to learn how to manipulate it. A true spirit wielder shapes their spirit like clay in a potter's hands."

Onish nodded, eager to learn, but his mind was still racing from the earlier ride, still lingering on the strange and thrilling connection he'd shared with the Ashva. He needed to focus now, to control the surge of energy that was still coursing through him. 

Bhadra raised his hands, and the air around him shimmered as a translucent shield materialized, glowing with an eerie blue light. "This is the power of the spirit. The shield is formed from your awareness, your focus, and your command over the spirit. It may seem fragile, but it can withstand blows that would crush any ordinary defense."

He flicked his hand toward Onish. "Now, throw that boulder at me."

Onish's brow furrowed as he surveyed the large rock nearby. It was heavy, but he was determined. He picked it up and threw it with all his strength. The moment it hit the shimmering shield, it shattered into a thousand pieces, not leaving so much as a crack in the protective barrier.

Bhadra flicked his fingers, and the shield vanished, leaving only the warm breath of the wind behind. 

"See how strong a spirit shield can be?" Bhadra said, his tone not as much proud as informative. "It's all about your understanding of your spirit and the world around you. Your mind shapes your reality. So, my first lesson for you is simple—never doubt your abilities."

Onish felt a swell of confidence. He wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to form the shield in the first place, but he could sense the potential inside him. Bhadra continued to explain, detailing how a spirit wielder could form shields, levitate, and even manipulate the very air itself. But the true key, as he learned, was in control. It was not enough to wield the spirit; one had to master it.

The practice was not as easy as it seemed. Onish struggled at first, creating shields so weak that a breeze could shatter them. But with every failure came understanding, and soon he could form shields that would hold firm against the force of wind. The more advanced shields, though, proved more elusive. As Onish worked through Bhadra's scrolls, he began to notice something strange. Beneath the surface of the basic diagrams, he could see a pattern—a subtle web of lines that seemed to hint at something more. It was faint at first, but as his practice progressed, the pattern became undeniable.

It was the Maruti yantra.

Onish paused, staring at the diagram before him. He had seen it before. A rush of understanding coursed through him. Without thinking, he focused all his intent on forming the yantra, commanding the spirit to follow his will.

The moment he did, the energy exploded outward like a tidal wave. The spirit surged with overwhelming force, crashing over him with an intensity that left him breathless. His body trembled, his legs giving out beneath him. The world around him blurred, and his consciousness slipped away.

The next thing Onish knew, he was lying face down on the ground, the taste of iron in his mouth. His body was drained, the spirit gone from his being, leaving only an empty shell. Blood seeped from his ears and mouth, and his chest rose and fell in shallow, labored breaths.

Bhadra was already there, kneeling beside him, his glowing eyes scanning Onish's body with concern. He was relieved to find that Onish's spirit pearl had cracked, but the boy would live.

"What have you done, boy?" Bhadra muttered, his voice a mixture of frustration and worry. He lifted Onish into his arms and placed a hand over the boy's forehead. Dark, pulsing energy flowed from his own spirit into Onish's body, and gradually the boy's breath steadied.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, Bhadra's gaze lingered on the direction the Ashvas had fled. There was no way to call them back, not without using more power than he was willing to spare. He sighed, his thoughts turning to Manda. The old hossler would be furious. As Onish stirred, Bhadra gathered the scrolls and prepared to leave, knowing it was time to go—before anything else went wrong.

But as Bhadra vanished into the woods, a figure rose from the creek. It was stone-like, humanoid, and its eyes were locked on the path Bhadra had taken. The creature's gaze pierced the forest, watching intently, waiting.

A silent promise lingered in the air. It would not be the last time they met.