I can smell her in the air. But she doesn't come.

Mother, are you upset?

****

Hearing the glorious and colourful stories of afterlife from Master Makba, Radha had expected to be welcomed with more kindness. In place of fluffy clouds and a starry blue sky, she was shrouded in a darkness that crumbled her. Even if breathing was not what a soul did, she felt being choked. Imprints of bony fingers sliced through her smokey visage.

Flailing her limbs, she tried to escape the doomsday. There was neither light nor fragrance. All around, it was the vision of a blind man. Afterlife wasn't supposed to be a cage.

Unlike life.

Indumala's bruised face floated in the grim abyss. She was crying, calling out for Radha, extending her bloodied hands for help. Behind her rose the dirt-dripping claws of Hamal the Second.

A shiver ran down Radha's spine.

She ran for her friend. Alas, however hard she strained her legs, turning sweat to blood, she could never reach Indumala. The reborn princess just walked back, as if unwilling to touch Radha. But she was only trying to save her friend from the clutches of the devilish Rajan, so why wasn't Indumala accepting her?

It clicked, then, like a bolt of lightning shredding the sky into two halves, a beam of light falling over the tortured soil to warm the drowning land.

I had called down the sun. So the light refuses me.

Indumala vanished, so did the wretched Hamal. She was left alone in the darkness, again. Her limbs grew heavier, becoming an entity distinct from her eternal body. They forced her to kneel and crawl, lay down as an invisible weight pressed down on her chest. It was so difficult to breathe, even moan as the burning sensation made way up from her limbs to her neck. It rested there, akin to the poison in the throat of Shiva.

Perhaps, this was the punishment of betrayal. Even in death, the wound of a severed limb made her sob.

Radha shut her eyes. It didn't make any difference. It was dark within and without, no peace anywhere. Words abandoned her. What stayed were mournful cries of a mute soul grieving in vain. After some moments, the tears dried up too. Soon, she could feel her body going numb. The pricking pain left, so did the sensation of her vague body parts. Headless and heartless, she was equivalent to a ghost, constituted just of gruesome sins and marks of shame.

Maybe the gods weren't ready to accept her. Shunned by liberation, she would have to roam around and scavenge burials. Maybe she would be even repelled by the Underworld. It was a rich kingdom down there, she had heard from Uncle Aryamna. His stories always fascinated her.

And what did I do? She heaved a sigh. I harmed his daughter.

Overwhelmed by the twisted ending of life, she missed the faint blob of light that scintillated in a corner. It had to glare in her immortal eyes to draw attention. It awakened a strange curiosity in her soul. She didn't know if she could move. But as she hoped to be reunited with some happiness, a breeze pushed her towards the light. It became brighter and bigger with time, much like she was approaching the sun.

Soon, her awareness was embraced by a motherly whiteness. It doted on her, pulling her out of paralysing slumber.

Radha fluttered her eyes. Shapes and outlines were blurred, but after a few minutes, she recognised the cottage.

It was her own home.

Warmth slithered to her nimble fingers. She lifted them up, eyes widening at how alive everything felt. Although, she didn't have the courage to look down at her left hand. When she had pierced the dagger in her bone, she had wondered if the lustful plunder of a body would have hurt less. If so, she could have just given herself to the monsters of Revat.

No, she shook her head. I have dignity. My ancestors chose fire, not submission.

Yet, I did submit to their demands, didn't I? I put Indu on stake.

"Awake, my warrior?"

It was the voice of a young man. His chiselled face hovered above her, flaxen curls falling over his forehead like waves crushing on a sandy shore. His eyes twinkled with so much positivity that it made Radha consider pinching herself. Was she in a dream created by the soul?

The man touched her. "Hmm, there's a fever. I will treat this too."

She lifted her tired hand to caress his face. Was this a god? Did the deities build a afterlife for her, having some mercy? Did they make it resemble her life?

It didn't really comfort her.

The man muffled a grin. "What? I am your doctor."

"We have doctors in afterlife?"

"Crazy girl. I guess it's the bleeding. You are alive, my mage."

"I..." She gasped. "I am alive?"

"Look at your new hand."

It dawned on her that she was caressing him using her left, the one she had supposedly cut off but now...was so golden and shiny?

"It's a prosthetic," the man said. "It's made using your own flesh, some expensive gold and magic. You won't be able to break it even if you want."

She flinched. "Why did you save me? I want to die."

"Why do you want to die?"

She raised a brow. She didn't expect him to ask so casually, and now that he did, she had to answer. "I feel unworthy of living. I betrayed my friend Indumala. I should have instead allowed myself to be ravaged." She fidgeted, grabbing the bedsheet in her metallic grip. "But you see, they were going to kill Raya too. She told me she didn't care and we had to make sure Indumala survived. I...I had to make a choice. I think, I shouldn't have done anything. I..." She groaned. "I don't know!"

"I heard you can control the luminaries," the doctor said. "Such a beautiful power."

"Don't mock me," she hissed. "I wish I never had this power. Magic feels like a curse."

"Magic isn't good or bad. It's just magic."

"I know." She scoffed. "Magic isn't bad. I am bad."

"You know how selfish you are?" He thumped his fist and sat beside her head, looking down at her like the sky stared at the ocean. "You killed yourself because you are a coward. You are running away from responsibilities. Sure, it was a grave and disgusting situation to be in Revat, where either way could lead to danger. Hold yourself accountable, Radha, but don't run away. What you are doing is disrespecting life, love and magic." He put a hand on her bald head, feeling the little patch of hair. "You tried to kill the magic that chose you, thereby terribly hurting Kalika. You attempted suicide, leaving behind your parents and friends. They don't see you as a sinner, Radha. They want you to grow. But you are so selfish that you want to die."

Radha parted her lips, uttering a silent exhale.

"I am Soham. I will be watching you, so don't take another rash step, and if you do, I will make sure death remains at an arm's distance from you. I won't let you flee while your family suffers." He scratched the surface of her prosthetic limb. "I might polish this a little more."

Soham got up and took his empty plate. "I will tell the others to bring some food for you. And get ready for some serious drama, girl. Because you deserve it."

****

The evening was packed with emotions. From the arrival of a new baby, just a day old, to Radha getting back her life– everything was so heavy. Chitra and Shankha remained with their daughter at every moment, while the other ladies took turns to serve Mithhi and her baby boy. They were yet to decide a name for it, waiting for the stressful time to pass before a celebration.

"I heard you gave Radha a good lecture?" Rudra asked Soham. "Seems like you do a lot more than just physical healing."

"Do you need some? I am really good at it."

"You think I need some?"

"Well, I told you, I know about your life. My parents are Saints, I am a Saint. I know all about your life, starting from being Pasha to Indumala's lover."

Rudra rubbed his chin. "I see, you Saints are very wise. Is my life that good for a, uh, study?"

"Oh my, you make this sound so sadistic! No, we all care for you, Rudra. My parents were the one who conducted the ritual for bringing back Indumala's memories, and also strengthening her during battle."

Rudra gaped. "My respect to them. Honestly, I don't know how to pay them back. They gave me back my love. It's all I ever wanted."

"My mother was the one who made you realise Indumala was your Luna. Remember the lady draped in black?"

"Yes." Rudra nodded. "She guided me towards truth."

"She has come with me. Actually, I don't know how to move a chariot. Still too young for that. Maa knows, so she came with me. And she is also friends with Master Makba." He scooted closer to Rudra. "Do you want to meet my Maa?"

"I can't see her face, I suppose."

"No, you can't. But she would be more than happy to speak to you. You might as well thank her and get some more advice on life. She is a great Saint, very mighty."

Rudra grinned. "I won't miss this rare opportunity."

Soham took her to his mother's cottage. Rudra waited outside, hearing suppressed whispers and some shuffling noises. After some time Soham opened the creaking door. "Hop right in! I will give you two some privacy."

The cottage was scented with the perfume of aparajita and roses. Marigold garlands hung around the idol of Krishna, kept atop a little brown stool. Rudra didn't know if he hated this flute-god. Somehow, he reminded Rudra of Aryamna.

"Come near, my son," the lady said. She had veiled her face in red. "Maa wants to hear about you."

Rudra smiled. It was so endearing, the way she so easily and without malice embraced him. So soothing was it that he didn't think twice before addressing her as his mother. "Things have changed drastically, Maa. And for the better."

"So," she twirled a finger, "how is life with Indumala?"

Rudra covered his blushing face, breaking into a fit of giggles. "The best. What would I not do for her!"

"Burn the world?"

"Absolutely. Destroy it. Reduce it to debris."

"I want you to always keep this intact. She is your only world, and for that, you should be able to be a villain."

"Damn," Rudra smirked, "I didn't dream in my wildest dreams that a Saint would tell me this."

"I am not a Saint. Now I am your Maa."

She opened her arms. Rudra crawled to her feet, laying his head on her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair. "Does this feel nice?"

"Mhmm," he murmured. "You know everything about me, don't you?"

"I do."

"About... about my mother too?"

Her hand froze momentarily. Recollecting her composure, she placed a feathery kiss on his forehead.  "You can call me your Maa. I am everyone's Maa."

Rudra closed his eyes and felt the loving touch of the lady. Her lavender smell, her soft skin, her kind words– they made him recall Amma. His Amma, but the world's Queen Mother. Queen Mother of Gandhar.

"I knew somebody like you. You even smell like her, like summer and flowers." Rudra nudged her. "She is no more."

"A soul never dies, Rudra." Her voice croaked. "She will return."

Rudra looked up with wet eyes. "Will she?"

He swore he could imagine golden eyes behind the scarlet veil, as if the divine queen played hide and seek with him. Forget Shiva; that man was an usurper. The real goddess was Amma. What happened to her? Nobody knew. Not even he himself, the so-called biggest devotee of Gandharvi. Rudra felt as helpless as a dying man and for once, Death saw fear in his eyes.

But when this Saint cupped his face, he lost all his worries in the blink of an eye.

"Yes," she whispered in his ears.

Perhaps he could still dream.

****

word count: 2080 words

They are so close, so close, and yet Rudra doesn't know that it's his mom and brother 😭 One day he will, but ig it would be another heavy day...full of crying and anger. It's how Rudra is, his nature.

Radha needs some time to heal herself. She was in a situation where either path led to danger. One can't really choose between two friends, more so when it's about life and death. I feel sorry for her. But she will recover.

And we also got a new member– a baby boy! Next generation XD

How do you guys feel about the story till now?