The Day of Thunder

[Sugri]

Many Lifetimes Ago
Her grip tightened on the bow, as new to it as it was to this world its ivory inlay gleaming untouched by age, as she swallowed the fear that she felt.

She was a priestess, not a warrior, she had not been trained for battles such as this. Around her lay the bodies of those who had been trained. Brave fighters and noble princes all had fallen before the demon and its minions.

She was not a warrior but she was here, now, and no one else was left to bear this duty. The rakshasa, one of Revan's kin, laughed and boasted and celebrated its assumed victory.

All she had left was the last dying embers of hope and a prayer. A prayer to Vishnu, lord of life, who she knew even now in the flesh of Arun, did battle elsewhere with the Rakshasa king.

Her battle here might not matter in scope compared to his but the monster before her had preyed upon her village, her entire province, for generations. It had grown fat and indolent on the flesh and blood of her people. Even if Arun triumphed how much longer would this beast feast before it would be put down or put to flight? No, it had to fall and it had to fall now.

Allowing the embers to flare once more into a roaring fire and intoning the prayers and sutras she had recited since she was a child she drew back and, feeling a sudden stillness and calm, let the arrow fly.

She could feel the vile and hateful curses the rakshasa spewed forth, as the arrow buried itself in its eye, cling heavy to her soul. She could feel the claws of its minions rend her flesh even as their lord perished.

She could feel it all but still she smiled as the darkness claimed her and this lifetime ended. Her people were free.


Lifetimes Ago
The bow lay where it had fallen, forgotten like the knowledge carved into its ivory, as the one that once wielded it pounced upon their foe tearing instead with fingers and teeth in a mad rage. The shadow they cast upon it seeming almost as much beast as man.

Another life, and another lifetime, lost to the demon's curse.


Twenty-Nine Years Ago
The boy had been born under auspicious signs a rain of stars falling to the north as he took his first breath in this world.

Now the infant, with unsteady gait, staggered its way towards the laid out silks and the relics upon them. Each bore the weight of generations of duty and the lifetimes they had shaped and been shaped by. Books, bells, robes, vajra... and the bow.

The bow whose grip the pudgy little hand now curled around with surprising strength and certainty.

The room swirled with mutterings of dismay though the cooing and pleased child understood none of it. Though one of priestly caste finding a more martial path within that role was not unheard of, nor even truly uncommon, the bow in question had long been considered ill-omened. All those who bore it rose to great deeds but more often of infamy than of honor.

Still the child was, for now, innocent and perhaps they would be one of the rare few who could overcome its burdens.

Perhaps.


Ten Years Ago
In the isolated gurukula, school and home, where the child grew into a man and became Sugri news was slow to arrive.

"But master the rat-kin say..."

"Bah! Tall tales from long tails! Avatara of unknown gods, destruction from the heavens, strange demons and the warriors who fight them. Even if they have a kernel of truth they are not our lands, not our gods, not our concern."

Sugri rarely spoke back to his master but, his eyes drawn to the north, he could feel something stirring,
"Surely there must be some truth to it? And, if so, certainly we should at least learn more. If these warriors can fight demons they must know techniques and arts at least worth comparing if not studying?"

"I will hear no more of this! I've declined your request to leave and my word stands! You are to finish your training! When I am gone this will be your school, your students, and you must be ready to teach."

"But surely Sarna is better suit..."

"Silence!" The old man's rage gave way to a coughing fit and, knowing he would make no further headway this day, Sugri hurried himself into preparing the medicinal tea that would sooth at least one of the issues.

But still he looked to the stand that held his bow and north beyond it.


Five Years Ago
"Must you go so soon? Do you really think I am prepared to lead in your stead?"

Sugri, as he finished strapping the bow to his back, smiled at his anxious friend, "I hate to speak ill of one we both owe so dearly but you and I know the only reason I was chosen as his successor, rather than you, was what lies between my legs." He clasped a firm hand on Sarna's shoulder though the squeeze it gave was gentle, "You were always the quicker study and the wiser soul. Even if I did not bear my affliction I would think this post was better yours than mine."

He looked past her, to the north and the pull he felt - far but constant, "No, whatever my future shall be, it lies out there and I must rise to meet it. One day I will return and tell of all I have seen... in this life or another."


Today
Despite the noon-day sun burning bright overhead the village in the distance seemed dark and gloomy and Sugri could almost swear he felt the chill of the fog that surrounded it even from this far away. His grip tightened on his bow. Though it was unstrung, he did not wish to give a false impression of hostile intent, the warm, familiar ivory beneath his fingers was a source of strength and comfort.

Ahead is where the tales said he would find the one they call Shinsei, ahead is where the strange pull - still present after all these years of travel - seemed strongest, ahead is where he would bear witness to destiny... whatever form that may take.