Part 3: Agastya
Agastya stared unseeingly at the moon, his eyes in the far past. The voices in his head were quiet, giving him some blessed moments of solitude. He remembered being a young lad, running wild and free with his clan of sorcerers. Most of them, including his family, had been slaughtered in cold blood. He had been captured and sold to the Devarayas. Even now, years later, he felt their amorous hands on his body, defiling him in unspeakable ways. Worst was the King, who called him his lover, demanding words of affection while he tore into his body.
His gaze shifted to the present, watching Vaidehi reach her battered kingdom. He imagined her in his arms, her jasmine scented hair wrapped around his fingers. He could feel the softness of her skin like an imprint over his own. If he were her husband, she would look at him with love in almond shaped eyes. He would be her solace, the one she would seek on lonely nights. Alas, theirs was a trial by fire, a star crossed union written years into the future.
Vaidehi’s kindness was a debt he could not repay, even with a thousand kingdoms. He remembered her as a little girl, with a cherubic smile that could light up the world. He had been Devaraya’s gift to her father for one night, when she had walked into the bedchamber. Aghast, King Gyanendra had ordered him to usher her away to the garden and come right back. She had squeezed his hand, looking up at him with such trust and beauty that the walls around him had crumbled. He had broken down on the way, the thick trunks of trees shielding them from prying eyes. Vaidehi had wiped his tears with her little sleeves, her own face scrunching up for a cry. He had never experienced something as pure again in his life.
A year from this day, he had come into his powers and ran from his masters. The spirits of sorcerers had wreaked havoc in his mind, till he had learned to control them. With them, he had planned his conquests, political upheavals spanning decades that would recreate the very fabric of society. A world where the videh would be respected, even revered.
Nine years later, Agastya had met Vaidehi again. It had sickened him to watch her as Devaraya’s bride. He had decided then and there to bind her to his fight for a different Hindustan. And so, he had marked her, protecting her with some parts of his magic. It had saved her that night, when the King had punished her. He had watched her lashed in growing anger, the spirits within him screaming to be free. It was the closest he had come to losing control, a folly he had never dared succumb to.
Vaidehi would soon fall in love, learning the joy of lovemaking that she had been deprived of, in the arms of another man. One more complete than he could ever hope to be. Agastya wondered if he should be jealous, but could such an emotion exist when he wanted her to experience the entirety of life? She would love two men, face two betrayals, before she hardened into the Queen that she was meant to be. He had accepted that.
Agastya brimmed with quiet happiness. He had added another dimension to his spell tonight. The enchantment would seep into her womb, blessing her son with pure magic. It would be untouched by the angry spirits that plagued him.
A conqueror would rise in the years to come, one who would soothe after carving the way with fire and blood.
And so, as the first light of dawn spread over the horizon, the Seer felt at peace after a long time. For he knew that every path they took from here would lead to home.
The End