Exhausted during a routine hunt, I'd decided to rest for a moment on top of a rock overlooking a waterfall. Mere seconds had passed after I closed my eyes when I heard it. The sound was faint, but unmistakable –- a baby's cry. Peering through the mist, I saw a strange sight -- a new-born in a basket, floating along the river. How the child had survived was nothing short of a miracle. But what I saw next chilled me to the bone.
On the opposite side, stood a most hideous creature, waiting as the basket approached. Sagging grey skin. Matted silver hair. Long, skeletal limbs – a witch. Picking up the basket, she clambered into the woods. Following her trail of footprints, I tracked them down to a clearing nearby, where an elaborate pagan ritual was underway.
The baby was placed in the centre of a flaming pit while the witch chanted in alien tongues. The royal seer, foreseeing eventualities such as this, had me prepared to handle black magic. I grabbed the satchel beneath my belt, producing a vial of Gangajal. I ambushed the witch, spraying it over her. She recoiled, seething from the holy water.
The dark magic wore off, revealing the witch's true self -- a man, attired like the Gods of yore. The celestial being spoke, collecting himself. Words that have tormented me to this day -- "Son of Vikramdev, you DARED to interfere in the work of Gods. For this, I CURSE you – The dastardly fate that awaits this new-born, THE SAME FATE AWAITS YOU!". In an instant, he was gone, and with him, the baby as well.
I could never comprehend whether what I witnessed that day was just a figment of my imagination. One born out of exhaustion and delirium. But the questions continue to haunt me -- Who was this child? Why was he being hunted by Gods? Was the curse real? Was all this just... a dream?
Epilogue
The young woman stood at the edge of the Ganges, stoic - in her hands, a small cane basket. She could have been easily mistaken for the local fisherfolk. However, the royal jewels obscured beneath her rags gave away her true lineage. Within the basket, clad in an ornate breastplate, lay a new-born baby. Planting a kiss on her son's forehead one last time, she placed the basket on the surface of the water as a single tear rolled down her cheek. As the undercurrents tugged at basket and baby, they gently began to glide away.
The ebb and flow of the snaking river currents would go on to parallel the eventful and treacherous journey of the toddler. Rescued from a celestial bounty hunter by an unknown warrior prince, he would be adopted by a poor charioteer, gaining attention as a skilled warrior that the Gods would fear and plot against – son of Adhiratha and Radha.
His parents called him Vasusena.
... Or as the world would know him, Karna.
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Aaranya Kaandam: A Baahubali Tale #BaahubaliTLL
FanfictionStuck in a surreal time-warp in the jungle during a hunting trip, Amarendra Baahubali has a tryst with evil that will change the course of history and turn his life upside down.
