Onish felt his bone-melting away like an ice chunk, and his muscles being ripped apart. Igbo's potions had set his every cell ablaze. He felt he was being cooked alive.
Memories, deeply buried in some dark corner of his subtle body, came rushing to him. Fear flooded his soul.
The searing pain consumed his sanity, his thoughts as he howled like a beast.
Sitting beside tormented Onish, the fowler was chanting some obscure spell, watching the convulsing boy.
Osric's tears were not something a human child could stomach.
Had he not modified the cleansing diagram there was no way the boy could last a minute.
Idarin had recounted his hellish experience in the Tome of Deads.
" It felt like a volcano of Asharar erupted in my belly. The fiery lava replaced my blood as it rushed into my vines searing them. Pindar, the hellhound, began to tear off my muscles thread by thread. I felt my bones melting away like an ice chunk.
As if it was not enough,
My soul shuddered; my mind shattered into pieces. I found myself living myriads of lives, going through agonies I had never imagined before…"
Bhadra shivered just recalling the horrific account. Idarin was someone who had survived this trial of Osric.
He had warned the lord. This could leave a deep wound in the boy's soul, or trauma in his memory. Yet, Oman was firm at his decision. Bhadra couldn't blame him. It was needed if the boy wanted to vie for a place in this cruel world.
***
Onish found himself living through all the torments that once bedevilled him in his 8.4 million lives on the earth.
The hellish tortures made his soul numb. Had he not been a yogi he would have lost his awareness and turned into a preta, trapped into the endless cycle of agonies.
He tried to break free of the illusion, the mental prison but his futile attempt only strengthened the evil sorcery.
What the fowler had fed him? There was no way an ordinary person, even the so-called spirit wilder, could endure these endless infernal torments.
Had he fallen into some trouble again?
He regretted coming here alone without even informing his parents.
The frightening thoughts rose in him one by one rendering him more vulnerable than before.
After what seemed a
He had no idea what was happening, but he was certain of the origin of divine music. It was coming from his heart chakra where Atman (soul) resided. In the yogic culture, it was called brahm-naad, a prayer of soul for the Paramatma.
The sacred sound shattered the invisible prison, setting him free at last.
Onish's awareness flooded out as if wanted to cling to every cell so that nothing could drag it back into the inferno again.
For a moment, he thought he was not in his body anymore. The alien sensations and his new findings made him forget the ordeal he had just escaped.
It was really his body but saving his invisible nadis everything else had changed.
Darkness had solidified into his bones. Fiery red lava was flowing into his veins.
His muscles were shining inky blue.
Strangely, the spirit was circulating into his invisible nadis, tracing some unknown paths.
Onish saw the spirit condensing in him,forming a blue pearl just like he had seen in the parrot's body.
"How long do you think he will be in this state?" Onish heard Oman's worried voice.
"There is no way of knowing. Idarin hadn't mentioned anything about it." Bhadra replied, "But rest assured my lord, the boy has survived the ordeal. Now it is just a matter of time when he will come around."
"I hope you're right! Or … I don't know what I would say to Padma." Oman said.
When did Oman get here? And how could he listen to them while his awareness was still inward? Onish wondered as he decided to open his eyes.
He must ask the fowler about these changes in his body.
He gave a last look at his black bones, and slowly opened his eyes.
***
Onish found himself lying in bed in a dingy room, with an oil lamp flickering on the wooden table.
Oman was standing by a small window, his hand behind. His broad shoulder slumped.
As for the fowler, he was leafing a dusty tome. Unaware, his hood was not on. Though the light in the room was dull, Onish could make out everything like a bright day.
And for the first time he saw the fowler face. His eyes were olive green glowing like a cat. Intricate black tattoos ran across his broad forehead and around his left eye.
"Ah!" as if sensing his gaze, the fowler swiftly put on his hood, and snapped closed the stained book.
"Lord, the young sire has woken up." said he as he rose to his feet, putting away the book on the wooden table.
Onish saw the relief swapt over his father's face, soothing his deep lines running across his forehead.
"How are you feeling, son?" Oman asked worriedly. He couldn't sleep after knowing the lad was undergoing the Osric trial.
So, when Padma went to her chamber he sneaked out here. When he saw the lad convulsing with agony, and howling like an injured beast. He regretted being so cruel towards his son who had just escaped death.
But he really has a choice. If Ishit wanted to join an academy he had to learn everything as soon as possible. There was no way the boy could outmatch his peers who had been training since their awakening ages.
And this Inna's feast was on them. He had no false hope that his rivals would show mercy to his son. So the only solution was unconventional ways.
Thanks to the spirit, the boy had made it.
"I'm fine, dad. " replied Onish, and it wasn't a lie. He truly was feeling reborn. The spirit was caressing his skin like the morning breeze.
"Good lad. You didn't let me down." he said, patting his back.
"Welcome to the world of spirit-wielder. I'm sure your mother will explode with joy. Ha.. ha. Ah what is it?"
Onish body was covered with filth, and reeking badly. "Boy, you badly need a good bath. You stink like a rotten mouse."
So before Onish could ask anything he was hauled out of the chamber. The bathroom was next to the toddler's room.
Onish ripped apart the old skin, which had come off, revealing the butter soft wheatish skin glowing faintly in the light.
He realised he had truly forged anew.
When he finally returned in a baggy cloak of Bhadra, his lord father had left, leaving him a message to meet him in the dining hall.
The fowler was waiting for him in the salon with a bowl filled with silvery liquid.
Onish refused to sip the simmering fluid. He had enough for the night. The torments had shaken his mind.
Bhadra laughed, "It isn't Osric's tears, boy. It's the ambrosia of forest nymphs, the finest brew of mazia. You should feel blessed that I decided to share it with you."
"So, it was not Igbo's potion that you had fed me."
"No. Igbo's potion couldn't give you Osric's dark bones and his fiery blood nor could it merge your minds so well that you could be awake while sleeping. Boy, though you went through the purgatory, it would benefit you immensely."
"But you could have told me before. " Onish was speechless. Why the hell did you make me mug up all the five diagrams?
"Ah… I can't explain it. You just have to know that we wanted to keep it a secret. So don't go blabbering about it, not even to your siblings and mother. Now drink it. It will cure your hidden traumas. And go and sleep tight. We will have a long day." said Bhadra, looking impatient all of sudden.
There was nothing Onish could do, but to accept the lousy explanation. He drank the silvery potion, with apprehension.
But he soon realized he would have regretted it if had truly rejected the divine drink.
Ambrosia of nymphs was true to its name. Just one sip had sent him into euphoria.
He closed his eyes as mysterious energy swept over his body. Tingling his every pore. All his mental fatigue vanished in a moment. The torments he had gone through seemed so remote that they seemed just nightmares.
"So how was it? " asked Bhadra.
"Thanks for the drink. It was truly divine." Onish replied.
"Haha …Go now. It's just a few hours to dawn. " Bhadra chuckled.
Onish gave a light bow to his mentor as he left. Climbing down the worn-out stairs. This time the tower seemed alive to him.