CHAPTER 3: AMAVAS/ROSEWOOD

AMAVAS

Year 7976 BC…

UNKNOWN DAY…

Deep within the primeval forests of ancient Bharat (India), a small tribe of seventy-five people lived in harmony, their settlement a mere 500 meters from the treacherous darkness that lurked beyond. But today no-one knew why it felt like, as if the air was heavy with foreboding, the trees seeming to twist and writhe in the flickering sunlight like living serpents. The wind whispered secrets in the leaves, its mournful sighs echoing through the forest like a chorus of restless spirits.

Chandra (named after the celestial moon), the tribe's leader, paced anxiously outside the makeshift dwelling, his heart racing with anticipation as his wife, Purnima (named after the night of the full moon), labored to bring their child into the world. The tribe's members held their collective breath as they awaited the arrival of the new life, their eyes darting nervously towards the dark, looming trees that seemed to be closing in around them. The wind carried the scent of decay and death, and the birds fell silent, as if sensing the approaching storm.

Finally, Purnima's cries of pain subsided, and a child emerged, its wails unlike anything the tribe had ever heard before. The infant's cries were like a crack of thunder on a summer's day, shaking the very foundations of the forest. The tribe's members froze, their faces pale with fear as they beheld the child.

A chilling silence fell over the crowd, punctuated only by the child's ear-piercing wails, which resembled a sudden crack of thunder or a roar of a beast. "It's a curse," someone whispered, trembling with fear. "Kill it," another voice demanded, echoing the sentiment of many. The tribe's members parted like a dark, living curtain, their eyes fixed on the child with a mix of fascination and dread.

Chandra's eyes locked onto his newborn, and for an instant, he was paralyzed by fear and loathing. But as he looked into Purnima's pleading eyes, he knew he couldn't bring himself to condemn his own child. His heart was torn asunder, his love for his child warring with his fear of the unknown.

"Whatever this creature is, it is still my child, and my wife has given birth to it," he declared, his voice laced with a mix of sorrow and determination. "I cannot take its life. But I also cannot keep it here, among my family and tribe. We will take it deep into the forest and leave it to its fate. May the gods decide its destiny."

Upon this Purnima's tears flowed freely as she heard her husband's words, she was the mother of the child, Whatever it was, it was her child, whom she had carried for nine months, her heart became heavy with the thought of abandoning her child. "At least give him a name before you cast him to the wilds," she implored, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes pleaded with Chandra, begging him to reconsider.

Chandra's attention was drawn to the child, his expression a mask of sorrow. Casting a brief glance at his wife, he said, his voice cracked as he spoke, "You are Purnima, radiant as the full moon. I am Chandra, guardian of the night. And this... this child, shrouded in darkness, embodies the void left by the moon's absence. A symbol of total pure darkness, So, I will name him *AMAVAS*."

With that, the tribe's leader turned away, leaving the fate of his child to the whims of the forest. The trees seemed to loom over them, their branches like skeletal fingers reaching out to claim the child. The wind howled in the distance, a mournful cry that seemed to echo the tribe's own fears and doubts.

ROSEWOOD COLLEGE…

YEAR 2024 CE…

PRESENT DAY…

Tucked away in the lush green, emerald heart of Mumbai's Aarey Forest, Rosewood College stood as a symbol of unbridled opulence and exclusivity, its foundations laid by a business mogul whose wealth knew no bounds.

Conceived as an academic oasis for the scions of the wealthy, the college sprawled across 111 acres of pristine wilderness, a verdant sanctuary where nature and luxury entwined. Majestic stone pillars, adorned with intricate carvings, supported the grand entrance, while sweeping archways and gleaming marble floors created a sense of elegance and sophistication. This was no ordinary institution – it was a five-star haven where the crème de la crème of society's youth came to refine their skills and forge their futures. It was a hub of opulence, where friendships were forged more at lavish parties than in classrooms. Here they were groomed to inherit the reins of their family's business empires under the guidance of world-class educators.

Behind the majestic façade of the main college buildings, two luxurious hostel wings stretched out, one to the right and one to the left, providing a serene and indulgent retreat for all students. The boys' hostel, with its sleek, modern architecture, stood sentinel to the left, its gleaming glass and steel façade reflecting the sun's warm rays. Meanwhile, the girls' hostel, with its elegant, curved lines and ornate balconies, graced the right corner, its soft, pastel hues evoking a sense of warmth and comfort.

As the rising sun spreaded it's rays into the horizon, the campus stirred from its slumber, awakening to a kaleidoscope of sounds, colors, and emotions. The first day back from summer vacation had arrived, and the campus pulsed with energy. Returning students reunited with friends, while newcomers navigated the grounds, adding to the vibrant atmosphere.

The day was a symphony of motion and emotion, a fusion of familiar faces and new arrivals, as the hallowed halls of Rosewood College once again came alive after a two-month slumber.