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Cowardly as a pimple. [Why pimple? Why not?] Votes: 10 23.8%
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Cautious as a cactus. [Why cactus? Shh...Don't hurt its feeling asking that!] Votes: 11 26.2%
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it needs to be beaten black and blue to make it brave. [Well, it is already blue.] Votes: 19 45.2%
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it needs to be beaten black and blue to make it brave. [Well, it is already blue.] Votes: 2 4.8%
Pranay’s heavy footsteps fell on the soft grass, crushing them as he relentless walked under the gentle light of the white moon. His unchanged saffron robes fluttered in the passing wind while his altered form impassively walked on.
His gaunt body had gained weight, giving him a healthy appearance and the grey in his hair have given in to the white that ruled over his dreadlocks. However, they were unremarkable next to the etchings of time and failure on his features. His once smooth skin had aged and loosened as crow’s feet decorated his eyes while laugh lines sat on his lips. His cheeks had sagged while various wrinkled marked his forehead as a badge of his defeat.
Pranay, the teacher to many a [Shishya], had been defeated by himself. He had failed to manifest the second breakthrough Skill to step into the third realm, leaving him forever as a Level 50 [Brahmin] who wore saffron. The colour had been his pride once but now it was his shame. From white to saffron to white again and saffron, at last, was the path on which he couldn’t progress further.
The arduousness of asceticism had never been unknown to Pranay. However, never had he been so intimately aware of it than now. The sacrifices it commanded and the regular capsizing of mentality it demanded had drained him of his will.
His heavy footsteps came to a sudden halt on the barren piece of land reserved for the annual celebration of the festival of lights and he activated his only breakthrough Skill, [Spirit Summon], causing his body to faintly glow with a milky azure light quite similar to the colour of the mana.
The glow covered his entire body before it stepped forward as it retained his form and all his features, down to every single hair strand. However, the form didn’t last long before it started condensing into a malformed mixture of mortal and animal. As it rapidly shrank, the animal part gained on the mortal part until one consumed the other. At that point, the milky azure glow pulsed to dissipate, leaving behind a living mongoose whose edges blurred against the reality.
The mongoose Spirit dove into the barren land as if it were water, waiting for its summoner to activate his Skill. “[Mana Manipulation]. [Mana Manifestation].” Pranay’s once strong voice was soft and low as brown coloured Earth mana rose from his body to plunge into the earth and into the waiting mongoose, who enriched the mana to amplify its strength.
The ground shook as earth flowed like water towards the sky, creating a mammoth pillar which rivalled ancient trees in height and width. Pranay closed his eyes and sweat appeared on his wrinkled forehead as even more amounts of the earth flowed upwards to give the gigantic pillar a crude mortal shape with multiple sets of arms, numerous heads and a single chest taking form.
Meanwhile, as the ageing Guru maintained the image within his mind and the earth near the ground crumbled to part, creating thick legs while Pranay’s mortal Vessel began to violently tremble. More and more earth crumbled to fall off the mortal statue as the failed man’s nails dug into his palms.
As the 10 headed demon with 20 arms took form, the saffron-clad man’s knees buckled and he fell, ending both the Spell and the Skill. Pranay panted as he supported himself before he closed eyes and laid down on the brown earth. Although his work was still not done, he was in no shape to continue.
The thought of the 2 more statues waiting to be erected caused him to grimace but there was little he could do. The festival of Dushehra# was fast approaching and the three demon statues were needed for the final celebration where they’d be destroyed in fiery glory, signifying the defeat of darkness and adharma.
Pranay’s tired gaze observed the crude but titanic statue and his ascetic mind contemplated the futility of creation for the sake of destruction. He was an ascetic and the ashram was a place that lacked even a single temple dedicated to any god, yet this mortal festival was celebrated with much joy. This dichotomy confused the failed man.
However, his path had ended with his failure and his mind soon moved on as his gaze travelled to the dark sky and the white moon brightly shining within. “It’s the white sister tonight.” His laboured voice broke the silence brought on by his upheaving massive amount of earth. “Chase what you seek. Chase the Sun. Fight your sisters oh white one. Do not give up. Fight.”
His unblinking gaze lingered on the white moon until his dry eyes to burn and close. When he opened them again, they were dull and lifeless. “Now I talk to a heavenly body, asking it to fight where I gave up.” He sighed and the exhaustion of his many years seemed to weigh down on him as seemed to age.
“…where is he?” The old man’s heart tightened as his thoughts inevitably arrived at Kiran’s prolonged absence. The kid should have returned a long time ago but he hadn’t. With each passing year, the hope diminished further while his family demanded answers they didn’t have. He was the hope of their clan, their sole ray of light, their Kiran.
Often, Pranay just wanted to advise the family to seek a [Diviner] but he always restrained himself for such a piece of advice was a cruel one. For it meant the Ashram had given up on the boy, fearing him dead. Even beyond that, with the Ashram lacking people who walked the divination path, even finding a credible [Diviner] was way beyond their resource. Let alone hiring one.
“…I shouldn’t have helped him.” A sigh escaped Pranay’s chapped lips another regret was piled within his heart. “I shouldn’t have.”
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Within a desolate desert, inside a dilapidated shop, on a simple chair, a youth seemingly slept.
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#Dushehra: An actual festival in India where a massive effigy of a 20-armed and 10-headed demon is burned to mark the victory of good over evil.
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The Ravana is not always built with ten heads depending on the time and funds and it most definitely does not have 20 arms rest 2 more statues are made with 1 head and 2 arms each ( belonging to kumbhakarna and Meghanada)