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Chapter 7 - SEVEN-The Circle of Life

It had been a week since Arya had left the Mayajangal. He was still questioning whether he had chosen the right path for the child caught between two worlds. His journey had given him two souvenirs till now. His journey to the western ghats where his hometown lay had only just begun. He felt the crimson wristband on his left hand which signified the Vachan that Pakshini had given him and clutched the Rudraksha necklace that always brought him solace. 

As he moved through the forest, his feet left deep footprints on the soft verdant tapestry. His black hair stuck to the back of his neck due to sweat and he had collected a week's worth of grime on himself. He still preferred it to walking directly under the sunlight. The sun did not reach him here, as the lush canopy of the forest covered most of the sky. This was a pleasant shade, unlike what he had experienced in the Mayajangal which was dark, damp and dreary. The only downside was that he had to gauge the direction by climbing up on a tree to see the sun's position. 

Arya climbed a sturdy-looking tree and looked at the sky. The sun was almost gone, painting the sky a deep shade of orange. He found a place near a clearing in the forest and set up a makeshift camp, drawing on the skills imparted by his Gurus and his education in the Gurukul. He found two trees side by side and decided to use them. He made a hammock with the cloth he had in his satchel, to keep him safe from the moisture and insects on the ground. He hung his satchel on one of the branches of the tree. He had also made a fireplace for himself. Travelling for a week in the jungle, he had made it a habit to collect dry wood as he went along to use it as firewood. 

He was getting quite hungry, it was time to look for food. One of the best options was to hunt something. 

He recalled the words of his wise mentor, echoing in his mind like a guiding mantra. "From the forest, we take sustenance, but with reverence and gratitude, remembering that all life is sacred." He had not forgotten those words. Arya, respecting the cycle of life, felt no remorse when he hunted for animals. His actions were a primal necessity, an acknowledgement of the fundamental truth that every creature sought sustenance. The Gurukul had instilled in him a deep connection with nature, teaching him that taking life for survival was not a malevolent act but a natural one.

Arya paused at the edge of the clearing, his eyes scanning the surroundings. The setting sun cast long shadows across the golden grass, creating a tapestry of light and shade. He had decided to hunt for a hare. They were active at dusk and were very quick and nimble little creatures.

With practised movements, Arya reached into his satchel and retrieved a coil of strong twine and a handful of sharp arrowheads he had taken from the armoury in the Gurukul. He had gathered a sturdy piece of wood from a nearby tree. He found a secluded spot beneath a spreading tree a little ways away from his camp and set to work crafting his bow and arrows. He could not hunt a hare with a sword, a bow and arrow made a much better weapon. 

His fingers moved swiftly as he fashioned the bow from the wood, carefully shaping and bending it to achieve the perfect curvature. He then attached the twine to serve as the bowstring, securing it tightly. Next, he selected suitable shafts for his arrows, sharpening their tips and attaching the arrowheads with precision.

Once his weapons were ready, Arya moved stealthily through the clearing, his senses heightened. He spotted the hare, its long ears twitching nervously as it nibbled on the grass. The sun had almost gone now, only the faintest light remained. The animal was unaware of Arya's presence, providing him with the perfect opportunity to strike.

Arya drew back the bowstring, aiming carefully. He had the arrow pointed directly at the hare's heart. He took a deep steadying breath, his bow staying still. Arya's Hazel eyes only reflected the hare's outline. He released the arrow, and it flew through the air with a sharp whistle. The hare let out a startled cry as the arrow struck it, piercing its side. The animal stumbled and fell, its lifeblood staining the grass.

Arya approached the hare, his heart pounding with exhilaration. He had successfully hunted his first prey in the wild, relying solely on his skills and knowledge. This was a testament to his growth and development as a hunter. Although Arya had hunted before, it was under the careful watch and guidance of his Gurus. This was truly the result of his skills, his alone. He carefully retrieved the arrow and stowed it away, feeling a sense of accomplishment and gratitude for the nourishment that the animal would provide. He joined his hands and prayed a thank you to the hare.

He made his way back to the camp. The sun had already gone by now, leaving Arya in pitch darkness except for the faint moonlight. He expertly navigated back to the campsite, his eyes finding a way through this dimly lit atmosphere. He was thinking about the first time he had hunted with his Guru. He had cried that day, he had decided not to eat the buck that they had hunted. He chuckled to himself, the faint moonlight looked dim compared to his dazzling eyes. He had only eaten when his Guru also had refused to eat and had vowed to not eat until Arya ate. "We take sustenance, but with reverence and gratitude," the words rang in Arya's ear as if his Guru had spoken it to him. His smile faded. His Guru was no longer with him, not on this journey, not even in this world. The attack on the Gurukul, the Rakshasas had seen to that. 

He cast those thoughts aside and prepared his food. He did not have the luxury or the ingredients to prepare himself a feast so he decided on roasting the Hare. He unsheathed his sword and prayed to it. It shrank to the size of a knife. He had only recently figured this out. His Sword and Shield could change their size on command. When he had received them from Gurudev, they had changed their sizes to match his height and skill. He lit a fire in front of him, providing him with a golden light. With the expertise of a veteran hunter, he beheaded and skinned the hare. The fur would be useful for winter. He removed the hare's internal organs and rinsed the cavity with water. It was now ready to be roasted. From his satchel, he took out a small package. It was a small translucent rock. It was salt, pink in colour like the inside of a seashell. It was wrapped in a piece of cloth to protect it from moisture and dust. With the hilt of his knife, he broke it into a smaller piece and replaced the rest in his satchel. He skewered the hare on a stick after seasoning it with salt, he then began the process of roasting the hare, occasionally turning it over. 

Arya got up and cleaned his sword which had returned to its normal size now. He traced a circle around his campsite, the soft floor gave way easily to the sharp sword. He went back to the centre and prayed. He remembered what he had been taught, "Imagine a glowing bubble," his Guru had told him. He screwed up his eyes in concentration and chanted, "May the divine armour of protection surround me, shielding me from all harm and negativity. May I be enveloped in a sacred embrace of light, where no evil can penetrate. I am safe and secure within this impenetrable shield of divine grace."

He felt a sudden rush of warm air. He opened his eyes slowly, and though invisible, he could feel a protective charm around him. The suraksha kavach was a protective shield passed down through generations. This basic skill, a kaushal, proved invaluable in the wild. It warded off the lurking dangers of the jungle, be they malevolent spirits or minor rakshasas seeking to test his mettle. Feeling content and proud of this, he went back to his hare. It was still roasting on the side of the roaring fire. He took it off the flames. It had burnt slightly but nothing could take the feeling of his first hunt away from him. The slightly salty, juicy meat melted on his tongue, leaving him satiated. A warm feeling spread inside of him, making him feel drowsy. Even if he wanted, he could not stay up. With a yawn, he decided it was time for him to sleep. He climbed into his hammock and closed his eyes. Sleep engulfed him like a hungry python.