The next town was nowhere in sight even hours after the sun sank below the western horizon. All Bali saw was the long, meandering ribbon of the dirt road and wilderness on either side. Trees upon trees, flowering shrubs lined the road, and dense vines with sharp thorns blanketed them as if guarding the forest against intruders.
Bali found himself at the front of the riding party, his men behind him and the sage and his companions at the very end. The hollers and cackles in the entourage had reduced to grunts and groans, and the men seemed ready to swing off the horses and draw their swords at each other at the drop of one nasty word.
The full moon offered some silvery solace. A distant howling sliced through the silence of the night. Bali was no stranger to these roads; he had ridden along them many times in the past. Yet, each time, the question of what must be lurking in this dark, mysterious forest coaxed him. But he had heard enough warnings about the forbidden forest and steered clear of them for the sake of his men.
"Sunrise it will be when we reach the next town," Uncle Bhringi observed, riding beside Bali. "Must we drive the horses harder?" He looked visibly uncomfortable, astride his dapple-gray horse, his third leg always getting in the way of his saddle. He had a pair of wings that he rarely put to use other than in combats, preferring the more common means of transportation to accompany the men.
There was a whicker from Bali's black destrier, Uchcha. Bali looked down and stroked Uchcha's neck. His mane was soft as silk between his fingers and his tail was white. Uchcha was rescued by Lord Kartikeya from Demon Taraka, who then gifted him to the ten-year old Bali. In the past twelve years, the destrier had grown as big and brave as Bali and went everywhere that Bali went.
"The animals must be tired. I do not want to race them on the night road. Let us wait till dawn." Bali looked over his shoulder, and his sharp eyes noticed some of his men nodding off atop their horses. "Once we are past these traitorous roads, we will be in the city of the horsemen."
"The Ashvins have been friends of us, always."
Bali nodded in agreement. "They would be happy to host us. We can rest, eat, and replenish supplies, all to our content. I have not seen the twins in years." The Ashvin twins ruled the city of Ashwinapur and the surrounding Terai grasslands. They were fast friends when they trained with Bali in the capital city, but since they moved back to their homeland, they only met on occasions or crossed paths during missions.
A sudden gust of cold wind pulled at the white silk stole hanging from Bali's neck.
"The tantric," Uncle Bhringi lowered his nasal voice, shifting on his saddle, "I do not comprehend. Why the sage brings a tantric?"
The tantrics were never considered a warm, friendly lot, and the guild was a frosty establishment, taking little interest in anything other than their own tantric aspirations. Matters of the OneRealm meant little to them if they could recruit more pupils into their guild. They rarely did anything out of charity. And a forsaken at that must be depraved even by their standards. Bali was convinced the tantric was after the book, to serve his own purpose.
"Does the guild have something to do with it?" Bali wondered in a low, hushed tone, climbing a bump on the road.
"Guild has changed so," Bhringi said wistfully. "Old Lord Puru held it in regard high and not misplaced was his faith. Time to march into battle, and the guild answered his call to arms. The guild grew in might, it did when the OneRealm was born. But oh, alas! Waxes and wanes everything does in this world. "
It was not often that Uncle Bhringi talked about the olden days when Lord Puru, Bali's ancestor, ruled the realm; but when he did, Uncle Bhringi's voice always filled with warmth and adoration.
"What of Old Lord Yaman?" Bali had read much of Lord Puru, but very little of Lord Yaman, an even older ancestor.
Both were borne in the first Yuga of this cycle, and both were raised by the king of the heaven. But unlike Lord Bali, Lord Yaman's life was cut short by a war that broke between the gods and the asuras. Strange to think that the gods and asuras were once at war. And it was during his life that Lord Yaman wrote a journal, Book Of Asura, that was said to carry the most closely-guarded secrets of the realms, one of them the lore of the afflicted.
At the mention of Lord Yaman's name, Uncle Bhringi sighed loudly. Then, all of a sudden, his antennas perked up. "Surrounded by enemies," he hissed, "be on alert, we must."
Bali was about to turn his head when something swift and sharp flew past him. "Arrows!" He yelled, "Be on alert, men!"
The lazy night air suddenly filled with arrows whooshing past them. The horses reared and broke rank, suddenly alerted by the enclosing danger. Bali spun his black destrier around and saw the listless bodies of two of his men, falling to the ground with a thump, pierced by arrows. Must be enchanted, he thought. Chaos descended, amid the shrieks of the men and snorts of the horses. Some broke and ran down the road. Others remained awaiting Bali's order, including the sage and his two followers.
"Make for the forest," Bali yelled. He knew it was full of danger but to remain in the path of the raining spellbound arrows was certain death. "Clear the road."
"Lads, do you must, as the prince said. Break for the jungle." Uncle Bhringi carried Bali's message loudly along the entire column of their entourage.
The men swiftly began to clear the path and descended from the road towards the forest. They slashed and hacked at the thorny vines that covered the shrubs and trees on the edge of the forest and began to make their way into it. The tantric single-handedly conjured ten sharp air axes that cut down a large part of the vines.
Bali noticed one of his men, a dimbasura, tossing on the ground and groaning loudly, arrows pierced through his legs. He spurred his horse along to get to the egg demon and then vaulted off Uchcha's back.
The moment his feet touched the ground, a man appeared before him, masked and armed and quiet as a shadow. Bali stumbled back but then swiftly caught hold of his balance. They began to circle each other. Bali struck first, thrusting his steel, but the man was quick and agile, dodging the attack.
"Give us the book," the masked assailant simply asked, voice calm as summer noon. "We will be on our way."
Bali quickly flicked his eyes around. More of the masked adversaries stepped out of the shadows to attack the royal party. The man came at him once again, bringing down his weapon but Bali caught the blow on the air shield he swiftly conjured. He then swept away the blade and whistled in his sword from the side. The masked assailant was swift, but he was no match for Bali. The sword bit into the man's flesh, and he hissed.
"You must be on a death wish that you attack the divine royal party like this in the cloak of the night," Bali growled ominously, "there is no forgiveness at the end of my sword."
The man paused for a second and shrugged. Bali could almost see the sly smile behind that cover. It was strange to see demons wear a colorful demonic mask, and Bali could sense it was a demon all right. The dark words did little to daunt the man. He came at Bali with a renewed intensity.
Bali retreated two steps, and the man's sword was mid-air when a sharp object pierced him from his back through the chest. It was Uncle Bhringi's right exoskeletal antenna. Blood spurted out from the wound, and Bali quickly skirted around the dead adversary and made for his horse. He promptly picked up the injured dimbasura, threw him first across his destrier, and then mounted the ride himself.
"To the forest," he yelled. His men echoed his cry in their loud, roaring voices, all scrambling to cross the edge of the forest. Bali put his feet to his horse. It reared and then ran towards the woods, jumping over the prickly vines and landing on the other side safely between two tall, leafy trees. Few of his men fell into a tumble of flesh and leaves and vines when they tried to hop over the thorny fence, but most crossed the barrier safely.
Bali wheeled his horse around once he felt that the arrows had stopped chasing them.
"I have created an air wall," the tantric shouted from behind him, "They cannot chase after us."
Convinced that the enemy would not come after them, Bali rode along with his men into the unknown, forbidden forest.