When Aksha knocked on the apothecary door, she heard urgent murmurs. Once inside the room, she found Sage Parasu's tall, gaunt figure arched over the apothecary table, and Naga Rathi muttering at his shoulder.
"Your pupil was no more than a dead weight, and we must leave him here, set forth on our course," Naga Rathi did not mince his words.
The old sage, Parasu, paused to raise a brow and then went back to grinding the herb, rolling the pestle deeper into the stone mortar.
Aksha had brought a handful of Sanjeevani leaves, the giver of life, for the potion that Parasu was making for the sick child. In the Treta Yuga of the first Yuga cycle, when Lord Lakshaman was injured by the enemy camp, Monkey God Hanuman was tasked with bringing these life-giving Sanjeevani leaves from the Gandhamardhan hill. When Lord Hanuman reached the mountain, to his dismay, he could not spot the leaves, so he tore up the whole mountain and carried it to the sick Lord Lakshaman's feet.
Two days ago, the child, Sachi, had barged through the council room doors and had fallen senseless to the floor. The Ashwin twins had immediately summoned the imperial healer and all the great healers in their city. They did not want to fall short on their hospitality in the eyes of the world; it was already a great disgrace that a young visitor had fallen severely ill under their roof. The healers gave him every treatment they knew of; even the tantric tried tantric healing, but the child had not moved one muscle. He lay still on the bed, lifeless except for the rise and fall of his chest.
"Then you may finish the expedition by yourself, Naga Rathi," Parasu suggested to Naga Rathi in plain, cold words, and the serpent man grumbled in return.
The royal healer of Ashwinapur had kindly lent his apothecary chamber to Sage Parasu for his use. It was cramped full of wooden cabinets, and old books, and glass and metal appliances. Thick smell of medicines and herbs filled the room, making it hard to breathe at times.
Large, round glass jars stood on the shelves filled with seeds and herbs, and oils. The light pouring through the open window was blocked by more of the same jars balanced on the sill. Once Aksha handed over the Sanjeevani leaves, she offered to help make the potion, and the sage asked her to pick the Brahmi leaves.
"If you are worried about the valuable object, I would happily deliver it for you on my way to the Sun temple." Aksha passed the leaves she had pulled from the slender stalk to Parasu. She remembered the story about that obscure mission with the treasure they had told her several nights ago. She did not believe a word, ofcourse.
The sage glanced at her with a polite smile, not stopping the pounding of the mortar.
"I will be loath to tax you with that duty. And what is more valuable than life," Parasu said, between the rhythmic clonking of stone on stone. "It was my fault. I should have kept an eye on him for his safety. I had obliged him to follow me in this quest, and now he has fallen into an unknown sickness. I must make certain that the boy is out of danger." He sounded as browbeaten as he looked.
The serpent man, Rathi, slunk up to the sage and put his ring-encircled fingers on the table. Each finger had one or two rings, and each of them was encrusted with the rarest and most precious jewels. But Naga Rathi's priced jewel was the azure sapphire, his serpent stone, that glittered brightly on his circlet and spilled the gray room with azure rays.
"Now now, Sage Parasu," he said with a slimy smile, "You are too hard on yourself. The boy must have been snooping around in the palace and came upon some evil. What could you have done? What more can you do other than pray. And I assure you, he would be cared for by the best of healers here." Naga Rathi glanced at Aksha for affirmation, but Aksha silently refused. The serpent man's golden eyes carried too many thoughts. He also had a curious way of scrutinizing as if he was going through the secrets encased in her chest.
"I must thank you for your help….before." The sage was looking at Aksha. She returned the look with confusion. "With the afflicted. And you have shown enough kindness with my pupil, too."
Aksha had taken a look at the pupil, Sachi, when he was carried to his chamber and laid down on his bed. She had held his palm between her hands and felt his warm skin. His pulse was slow and thready, as if his soul was clinging to his body for dear life. It was a state of suspended animation, and it was not difficult to see the boy had fallen under the feared death spell, Mrityu Mantra, forbidden in OneRealm. Who could have dared to curse the innocent child with foul magic?
Yet, the most miraculous part was how the child had survived that curse. It was certain death, and Aksha had never seen or heard of anyone who had escaped its clutches. She brought the Sanjeevani leaves for the boy, knowing it would help little.
"But, there is one more thing I require of you," said Parasu, "Have you heard of the Pond of Eternal Sentience?" Aksha frowned at the name. Indeed, she was familiar.
"Who has not?" Rathi spoke up before Aksha could reply. "It is one of the few remnants of the mortal world that was carried over to the OneRealm after the merging by the sheer power of its magic. A few drops of its water can heal any ailment that troubles the body, no matter if it is poison or magic, man or god or demon. And just as any treasure that comes with its Yaksha, it comes with its warning. It is in Trisurajya, and the Adityas protect their territory the way mothers cling to their newborns." Naga Rathi paired that caution with a crooked smile.
"And I am one of them," Aksha murmured in a hushed tone, already know what the sage would request of her.
Parasu paused the grinding of his herbs. "The task would be dangerous. But I cannot let the child die." His words were anxious but hopeful.
"If you know how dangerous it is, why are you willing to lead our men to certain death for a mere child?," Rathi alleged, heatedly.