The Angkhora Warriors

Part 21: ARJANA

Silence.

The forest was strangely silent.

His third eye on his forehead, seeing through the eagle soaring above, waited for the wild boar to move into view. He held his long arching ebony bow with tigerskin grip steady and dug his leg into the ground. He let go the arrow as soon as the shadow emerged from the trees and waited for the moment. A quiet thud. He expected some birds to burst into the air. But no birds leaped took flight. No boar fell to the ground. He'd missed.

Arjana had always found peace in the Banjaran. It was his sanctuary, a place of meditation, where he could recollect his thoughts and rejuvenate, strengthen his chakra. It was a place where he could have some quiet time, away from RAMMA. His role at the academy had grown heavy and had weighed him down. Hannu had put so much hope on his shoulders in building an elite team to protect Angkhora. The Light King. The Two Princes. The Prophecy.

It was all adding up. He felt his chakras disturbed and needed to find balance again.

The mountains spanned as far as the eye could see, all the way to Snow Mountain in the North. He had moved quietly and had found a hidden spot. He didn't want to be tracked by the mountain tribes, Snake Clan, nor Banjaran Apes. Though allies, he wanted to be alone. After all, it was the Snake Clan that taught him how to make poison for his arrows.

The Banjaran mountains was rich and filled with luscious greenery, mystical beasts, and spiritual beings. Several small villages inhabited the Banjaran, settled far enough from the kingdom to remain hidden. They preferred their solitary lives, and Arjana couldn't blame them for that.

He reached up, pulling his arrow clean from the bark of the tree, taking note of the notch it had made. He eyed the arrow tip, looking it over for any sign of weakness before placing it back in the quiver over his back. He'd packed rations, of course but, the fresh meat from the hunt would've been a much better dinner.

Hunting was second nature to Arjana. More than just a skill, it was sometimes a prayer. It was his way to realign his chakras ; his mind, body, soul, and third eye. With a hunt in the quietness of the mountain, he'd find solace, connection, healing, clarity, and rhythm, like a spirit-dance with the universe.

The sun began to fade and a heavy mist had descended onto the forest, making it not only difficult to hunt but time to find shelter for the night. Arjana found his spot in a small clearing between thorny bushes with only one way in and one way out. He sprawled out his bedroll on the flattest part of ground. He was accustomed to sleeping out in nature, surrounded by the chirping of crickets and the hooting of owls. It was like hearing nature's song, oftentimes it lulled him to sleep. But the forest is strangely quiet this time. And that kept him cautious and alert. Arjana gathered the fallen wood surrounding his campsite, building himself a small fort of dried twigs and leaves to ignite a fire, while placing small stones in a circle to keep the fire from spreading. He lit a small piece of dried grass, breathing life into it as it smoldered.

He smiled at the warmth, throwing in a few more twigs. He'd set himself up quite the comfort for the night, enough to keep himself cozy in the settling mist and cold of nightfall. He pulled a few pieces of cured meat and bread from his small pouch, tearing off small bits to eat and fill his belly but no more than that. Without a fresh kill, he had to make sure his food supply would last him for at least another day.

Darkness settled in, revealing the full cover of night for the forest to come into new life. The owls began their song while the crickets joined in with their choruses. A few creature sounds would pipe up now and then but none were unfamiliar enough to cause Arjana any alarm, except for what he was about to hear. Footsteps. Rustled leaves. Branches cracked. And then a scream. A scream like he had never heard before. A sharp piercing loud cry of a girl like steel on a grinding stone. Arjana's pose shifted from relaxed to attack. He looked through the darkness, trying to peer into the forest as to where the cry had come from. But he could see nothing.

The sound of panicked footsteps got louder and closer. Arjana readied his bow, aimed it at the single entrance into his tent, when a girl suddenly barged in. Stark naked. Covered in blood. Her eyes wide with terror. Arjana dropped his bow and the girl fell onto him, body trembling, shivering with fear. Shocked, he grabbed hold of her and she collapsed into Arjana's arms. Arjana barely caught her from falling to the ground. Her eyes closed slowly, realizing that she had fallen into a stranger's arms.

He adjusted the unconscious body in his arms and lifted her onto his bed. He took a quick look at the scars and wounds all over her before covering her with his blanket. Despite the situation, Arjana didn't want to seem disrespectful, no matter his intention. He stared at the girl, wondering where she'd come from, what she was running from, or who. And why the strange blue tinge on her body.

He looked out and saw there was a blood trail. He gathered his thoughts quickly, let out a heavy sigh, put on his bow and arrows, and decided he must not wait any longer. He had to investigate the trail and discover where she'd come from. He lit a small torch from the fire, using it to seek out the blood trail that led into the deep forest. The blood was still fresh, and yet without any sign of pursuers. She had marked leaves and branches. Her movement was erratic, with steps taken in zigzags, and sometimes circles as she tried to get away from whatever, whoever, was chasing her. The trail led deeper into the other side of the forest. As he continued on the strange path, he came to a clearing in the forest with wooden pillars marking the entrance. A small village with only a few huts.

Silence greeted him, with no torches lit for the entryway and not a single small hut left awake. It was odd for there not to be a single guard waiting to greet him and ask for his business or for someone to be patrolling the alley. Some sarong garments still hung on the laundry line. At night. He grabbed one and folded it into his pouch for the naked girl back at the camp.

It was eerily dark and Arjana stepped cautiously, noticing random mounds on the side of the path. He took his torch and shined it to the side, realizing what the dark mounds were.

Corpses.