Pandit and Mannat left the shop looking like two brothers going on a hunt wearing matching leather vests and arm guards.

Pandit even went ahead and brought his broadsword along. Tied to his back, only the sword's handle protruded over his head. Though sheathed, it made the boy appear dangerous. He might be fourteen but he had the strength to turn adults into children in a fight. Pandit was blessed with pure physical skills just as Mannat was blessed with skills favoring his mental attributes.

“Morning sergeant,” Pandit greeted Kaju, which took Mannat by surprise.
Pandit picked on it and told him, “He was a sergeant of the ninth eastern battalion in the army before he left.”

“You can just leave the army?” Mannat said.

Kaju wasn’t expecting a question like that, which made him wonder what else the boy knew about the army.

“You can after doing a meticulous service or serving your years,” Kaju said without giving out any emotional baggage whether physical or emotional. To which he jealously added, “And I’ve been telling your friend to join the army. I know some people there. He will soar in the army, but he just doesn’t listen to me.”
 
“And I have told you that I am not interested.” Pandit talked back with a stern voice.

Mannat could almost see sparks flying out between them. Their stand-off continued until the woman faked a cough. Then they packed up and started moving. Mannat still sat beside Kaju, while Pandit took a seat in the back of the cart with the woman and her brother. Kaju saw everyone seated then clicked his tongues thrice and the cart rolled out of the village following others on the same course.

Pandit asked about the basic situation and learned from the woman about Mannat’s deed and decision to help them. He acknowledged the risk and told her they will need her to come forward when the time comes because if their Sarpanch was anything like the man they knew then he might not meet rhyme with reason.

Finally, he asked Mannat, “Is today’s task dangerous?”

The winding road was not wide enough for two carts to push through together, but Pandit received a straight answer about the situation.

“Danger is relative,” Mannat said staring straight at the belly of the bull cart swaying ahead of them. “We might not face any resistance from the parasites, but we can’t say the same about the people. We are going uninvited. And I’ll probably be poking around in the hornets’ nest to get to the core of the problem. So you might have to act up and stop the villagers from acting if they start winding up. You should understand that no one in their right mind is happy to be told they are sick; especially when they show no signs of aforementioned sickness.”

“Now, now, have some consideration for us.” Kaju intervened. “I live in that village. We are not savages! We know to respect our helpers. We remember our debt. Moreover, no one is dumb enough to hurt a merchant or a doctor staying in their village. Who would step into such a village once the rumors spread and burn their reputation to the ground?”

“That’s right,” Pandit said, telling Mannat to calm down. It was just that he had forgotten one thing.

Mannat reminded him, “We are not doctors or merchants tough. I don’t think anyone will have any worries about robbing or hurting young Wizards from their neighboring village.”

The following silence that slithered between them put the two adults in an awkward position since neither of them could refute Mannat. The rest of their short journey continued in an orchestrated calm that lived between the continuous sound of the laden cart rolling down the dirt road and the muffled beat rampaged by the horse’s hooves.

Pandit sometimes asked Mannat a few irrelevant things and Mannat checked Ram’s condition, but they didn’t have a straight conversation again until they came upon the Kaju’s village.

The two boys were accustomed to the crowd and bustle of their village and found it hard to get used to the open and empty streets that followed.

“I really can get used to how few people there are in this village.” Pandit murmured with melancholy then turned to the woman and asked, “Why is it so different from our village when they are shoulder to one another?”

“Most of the villages around are the same or worse. The whole region is a barren landmass that can barely support life.” The woman said. “Why do you think our two villages fought for the forest?”

Kaju added. “This barren landmass continues even if you move toward the mining capital in the center. There’s nothing there. However, it is not the same everywhere. You both haven’t gone out of the region, but I have. You go far enough and you will see woods so dense you can’t distinguish between day and night at some places. Lands so rich and fertile, old paths disappears in days. That’s why I urge him to join the army. He can go out there and enjoy the taste of real fruit, while here he’ll only be a hunter at best.”

Kaju let out and shook his head, his eyes trembling with the desire of a true adventure. The truth had resonated strongly with him. He had just been to the boy's village ‘Vrindavan’ after all. The crowd moving in and out of the village had opened his eyes for a while. It gave him the illusion he was once again a soldier on the road, waiting with his cavalry in some prosperous town for their next order. He remembered the taverns they raided, the whorehouses they visited in the name of inspection, the bandit they killed, and especially, the people they saved. His life in the army was one joyous clusterfuck and he remembered every part of it even after being away from that life for so many years.

Shaking his head, Kaju whipped the reined and moved him toward the village center. They passed a carpenter on the way who had set up his shop on the road and was sawing a log with his assistant. The man greeted Kaju and stared at the two boys as they passed by.

There was no blacksmith or tailor in the village. Anyone with a bit of ability had long left the village and made their way further up the trade stream to the town and beyond. There were women and girls of various ages gathered under an old and dying papaya tree, weaving baskets with twigs and hemp.

The women followed the cart with their eyes, noticed Ram and her sister in the back, and craned their necks to see the situation. A few of the girls locked eyes with Pandit and Mannat, giggled, and poked each other or smiled at the boys as the cart rolled away from them.

Further down the road, the village potter worked; the middle-aged man had just finished an oval water pot and was taking it to store inside his shop when the cart passed by.

Mannat sensed agitation up ahead. They passed a bunch of mud-plastered houses with flowers painted on the walls before coming upon a house that had a small crowd of young and old women gathered outside. He then sensed relief and excitement from Ram’s sister, realizing the crowd had gathered for her.

Four of the older women approached the cart as they came to a slow stop in front of the house. Mannat noticed the inked four dots on their foreheads, right between their eyes. They wore flat metallic bangles covering their forearms, each different from the other.

Kaju climbed down from the cart and the rest followed. Then he and Pandit carried Ram inside the house while his sister followed behind them right on her heels. The women encircled them, asking about the situation. Ram was still in a coma but looked comfortable and out of danger. One by one, the women hugged her, giving her sympathies and congratulating her. The love and care she received overwhelmed her and brought her to tears.

Mannat couldn’t believe at first that all these people had gathered there to hear about Ram’s condition. Their unity and friendship were in stark contrast with the divided sense of the people of his village.

He looked around the house in search of anything that might lead him to the source of the parasitic infection but he did find something which made him sure of his conjecture. Eventually, Mannat had enough; he found Kaju and asked him to take them to the Sarpanch.

“The women of this village never fail to amaze me. They all look so young despite their age.” Pandit said as they walked away from the house. He was on a different plane of existence than the rest of them, one that had very little to do with reality. He was smitten.

Mannat and Kaju looked at each other then tactically decided to ignore Pandit.

“Did you find the source?” Kaju asked Mannat. He was worried. A veteran, he could sense Mannat’s urgency.
“No,” Mannat said, causing Kaju to frown; it wasn’t the answer the old man was looking for.

Kaju didn’t want to see another person from his village getting ill with the same sickness. He was done with it already. He had left the army behind because of the deaths he saw, the comrades he lost. He didn’t want to see another death in the village if he could.

Mannat continued slowly; his voice had never been so grim. “I didn’t find the source, but I found more infected people. A third of the women gathered at Ram’s house were infected; though none of them showed signs of the infection.”

“Fuck!” Pandit said.
Kaju inhaled deeply, thoughtful.
“Let’s just make sure your Sarpanch listens to what we have to say,” Mannat said.
Kaju nodded to reassure them. “Sai’s a good person. He’ll understand.”

The boys listened but knew better than to judge someone based on others' opinions. Who knew how many skeletons the man was hiding in his closet?

However, they were surprised to see the Sarpanch’s house. Where they expected a manor they found a cozy, mud-plastered home that looked no different from the rest in the neighborhood. The only difference being the flowerpots on the porch and two guards at the door.

The guards saw them coming and stood up. The older one sent the younger one inside while stepping forward to receive them. He was a middle-aged man: black hair, brown eyes, and a hard sunburnt face with a beard that would make Mannat’s father proud.
His mana grew hectic, nervous, but he showed no physical signs of it other than a respectful smile.

Mannat noticed the welcome plaque nailed above the door. Beautifully lettered, he was wondering who carved it when another two men arrived at the door. One was the younger guard and the other person was Sai's son.

“Uncle,” The man greeted Kaju with clasped hands.
He was in his thirties and looked like a scholar. His clothes were clean and pressed, and there were ink stains on his fingers. Perhaps, he was exactly that.

Kaju grinned in return and patted his shoulder. “Anjan, is Sarpanch home?”
“Yes. He’s having dinner with Deacon.” Anjan said.

Mannat was surprised to hear that name. Deacon was the village alchemist whom the two boys had found wandering on their side of the forest a year ago while looking for Little butcher.

“Well, that makes it easier then.” Kaju turned to the boys and asked them to follow him.

“Did you make the welcome sign?” Mannat asked Anjan as he was leading them through a straight corridor to the dining area where two men were in a heated discussion over something.
“Oh, you can read?”
“Yes,”
“That’s great. Are you a student of the academy?” Anjan noticed Mannat’s young age and changed his question. “Maybe want to attend?”
Mannat smiled but didn’t rectify the misunderstanding. It would have led to questions he was not interested in answering for the time being.

The Sarpanch sat on the table with the breakfast laid out in front of him, which he hadn’t touched. There was soup, bread, and some green, but no alcohol on the table. He looked like his son, but older. He was bald where his son had combed black hair pressed to one side. He kept a clean face, which instantly earned him points in Mannat’s books, evolving him from a leader to an intellectual.

Wrapped in a plain grey scarf, Sai was in a grave discussion with his guest, Deacon. They were talking about Ram and Deacon was carefully listening to everything Deacon had to say. He was calm and composed but also vigilant, which left a deep impression on Mannat.

If anything, considering the man was concerned enough to call Deacon for help assured Mannat of his credibility. If it was the Sarpanch of his village-- Mannat let the thought trail off. That man would have waited for everyone to die before gathering their belonging and abandoning the village.

That pig bastard—Mannat exhaled a plume of anger from his system and turned to Pandit, only to find the moron staring at the third person sitting on the table beside the men.  

She was a young girl, about their age. She had sharp features, a small face, and cat-like eyes, which Mannat found captivating and Pandit couldn’t look away from. She was dressed in black, not a single mark of hardship on her face or hands.

“Sir,” Anjan called from the threshold, breaking the conversation.

Everyone seated at the table turned toward the four.

Sarpanch focused on Kaju. The girl’s focus moved between the four of them. Deacon noticed Mannat and banged his knees under the table trying to stand up.

“Teacher, are you all right?” Pandit rushed to help Deacon, while the man kept staring at Mannat with stars twinkling in his eyes.
“Teacher?” Mannat blurted with squinted eyes.

Deacon answered instead of Pandit who was too embarrassed to share Mannat’s sight. “You might find it strange but he’s forcing me to teach him alchemy.”

“I thought you were protecting him in the forest in the capacity of a hunter?” Mannat didn’t spare Pandit the chance to speak. “No wonder you stiffened up at the door learning Deacon was inside.”

Deacon’s face scrunched, he shook his hands at Mannat. “Oh, forget about this useless fool. You are here, that is all that matters. Do you want to become my apprentice?”

Mannat didn’t like the way he was treating Pandit. “Will I have to jump the border to gather herbs if I follow you?” He said.

Deacon’s smile stiffened. He glanced at his Sarpanch who looked amused if nothing else and then spoke out loudly in embarrassment.
“Why are we talking about this? I told you then it was an accident!”
“Yes,” Mannat nodded in understanding. “You tripped and fell through the border and ended up on our side of the forest.”

Deacon hid his face to survive the embarrassment.

There were smiles all around, and everyone learned that the high and mighty Deacon was very easy to fluster. Well, Mannat could do it.

“What’s the matter?” The Sarpanch finally intervened, asking Kaju.

“They were the ones who intervened and saved the lives of our hunters a year ago.” Deacon wasn’t shallow with his praises. “At least four of our men would have died if they weren’t there to scare the monster away and help us carry the wounded back to the village. Of course, the scaring part was done by that young man’s father.” He pointed at Pandit.
 
“He saved Ram.” Kaju raised his chin toward Mannat. It wasn’t a competition, but he thought everyone needed to recognize what the boy had done before going forward.

His words were concise, but not thoughtless. Cured would have been a better word to use, but saved had more weight behind it, and Kaju used it wisely knowing they would have to push some weight around if they were to move the Sarpanch. The army’s bite was engraved deep in his bones; he knew how to behave in front of a leader. He didn’t give an opinion but reported the truth and waited for the Sarpanch to make a call.

“You cured him?” Deacon was astonished at first and then stood flabbergasted upon realizing what that truly meant. How could someone else succeed where he had failed?

Deacon jumped forward and cornered Mannat, knocking the chair out of his way. Thankfully, Pandit grabbed it before that happened.

“Which herbs did you use? How did you localize the cause? Can you tell me what caused his affliction?”

The nameless girl finally got interested in the boys. She looked at Pandit’s infatuated face first, then ignored him and turned to Mannat.

Mannat didn’t pay her any attention; he was too busy keeping Deacon off himself. Handsome as the lad was, since she couldn’t get his attention the girl decided to tease Pandit with a smile.

Meanwhile, Mannat was explaining the cause of Ram’s turmoil to Deacon and Sarpanch. “It was a parasite in his Intestine. It was not a normal parasite of course, but one that was born of miasma and fed on his meager mana.” Mannat’s answer earned him sharp inhales and painful grunts from the people present.

“There is no such thing.” Deacon said.

Mannat shook his head. “The same thing happened last year. The thing that killed your men was also a beast born of miasma.”

Deacon inhaled sharply.
The monster...
That monster!
Even Sai couldn’t sit idle.

Here Kaju took over since what needed discussion was not the nature of the parasite, but its effect, and the measure against it.

“Sarpanch,” Kaju said respectfully. “The boy believes, and has found on the way, that the case was not singularly affecting Ram and there are other suffering from the same affliction, only they are yet to show the signs.”
“What?” The Sarpanch couldn’t believe it. His back straightened and he turned to Deacon. “Are we having an epidemic?”
“If what he says is true then it’s possible.”
“Sir, if I may,”
The Sarpanch shook his head. “You can call me Sai.” He didn’t wait for Mannat’s acknowledgment and asked, “Now, how can you be sure?” 
“Because I can see them,” Mannat said and left it at that. He found everyone staring at him. Was it not good enough?
“He’s the Witch’s apprentice,” Pandit let out, which got Mannat on the receiving end of fearful glances once again.

Suddenly the discussion died down and silence took over the room. Everything that needed to be said was said. Sai sat with his head down, fingers interlinked, thoughtful. Mannat and Pandit looked at each other wondering if the Sarpanch believed them. Kaju stood nervous, hands clenched and beads of sweat forming on his forehead; the fate of his village lay in the Sarpanch’s hands. Would he agree with the decision if Sai decided to ignore the warning? Did he have the strength to make the villagers believe in him over the man they ardently followed?

Sai came into motion and everyone looked at him. His eyes opened. He grabbed the arms of his chair and turned to Mannat with clarity in his eyes. He had made up his mind.

“Let’s assume everything you said is true. Then what do you suggest we should do?” Sai asked calmly, but the nervousness of his heart wasn’t hidden from Mannat.

Mannat came straight out with the plan he had bounced around with the others on the way. “Call a meeting and make sure everyone’s present -- even the old and diseased.”

Deacon wanted to ask about the restriction but Mannat was one-step ahead of him.

“Since miasma stems from sadness and anger, the parasite can only grow in the hearts of the people who are not happy with their lives, and the amount of mana they regenerate is directly correlated to that.”

“So everyone with less than ten wisdom points needs to be checked, right?” The Sarpanch confirmed.

Everyone else just stared at the two. The way Sai composed himself made Mannat like him more and more. Sai stood out like a lotus in mud compared to the dung beetle that was the Sarpanch of Mannat’s village.

“And what will be the cost of your diagnosis?”
“Ten silver coins,” Mannat said raising many eyebrows, especially from Sai’s son, Anjan; his eyes quickly turned calculative. “That’s what Ram’s sister paid and the Witch asked me to receive for every person I save.”

“Sir, this is extortion,” Anjan said. “We can’t pay this price.”

Thankfully, Sai thought differently.

“You heard him. The Witch decided the price.” Sai’s voice trembled for a moment before he caught himself. A pause and he continued. “We can haggle with merchants and peddlers, but we can’t haggle with her. She has earned that respect and fear. If she says the cure will cost ten silvers per person, then that is what we will pay.” Sarpanch silenced the whispers before they could erupt. “We are already in their debt, don’t make me ashamed.”

Anjan seemed ready to object but backed down in the end.

Mannat respected the man.

Anyways, ten silvers per person amounted to one gold for every ten people he cured. Mannat could sense the excitement from Pandit. Two gold was equivalent to the money his father got paid for a barrel of arrowheads which took the both of them a month’s hard work to earn.

Mannat was more surprised to see Pandit keeping his emotions in check. Witch’s money or not, they were the ones earning it. A year ago, Pandit would have proceeded to jump and yell in excitement at the mere mention of such a large sum of wealth. His integrity was another indication of the changes he had gone through over the year. Mannat thought Pandit had been changing for the worse; guess, not everything was going bad for his friend.

Sarpanch called the guard and sent him to announce the news to the villagers before turning to Mannat and co.

“Tell me have you eaten?” The Sarpanch offered.

Mannat wasn’t shy. He pulled a chair and took a seat at the table.
Where did he have the time to have breakfast in the morning? He was hungry. His stomach purred in reaction to thank him for the decision. Pandit grinned and sat right next to him, leaving Kaju standing.

The outside got rowdier while they ate.

“Are the people gathering right outside this house?” Pandit asked, confused.
“Yes,” Sai said sitting back in his chair. He cleaned his hands with a towel and then folded them back before placing them on top of his plate. “There were too many urgent problems when I first became the Sarpanch. We were wasting more time getting to the venue than solving them. So I decided that anyone who needed help could directly come to my house to meet me.”  

The guard returned at the same time with news that the people had gathered outside. The sound of that was like worms in the boy’s ears. They glanced at each other strangely but didn’t question their methods. Anyways, the place wasn’t important, it was the heart that mattered and Sai’s had the wellbeing of his people in his heart.

“Now you all must excuse me. I must address the people and tell them the reason behind the urgent meeting. Please, continue,” Sai stood up to leave and Kaju stood up with him in respect.

Surprisingly, even Pandit got swept in the motions and stood up. He was standing after Sai’s daughter who hadn’t spoken a word to him since the smile but had left a profound impression nonetheless.  

Sai tucked the chair under the table, thanked Mannat and Pandit for helping them, and then left with his daughter following the guard.

Mannat finally had time to look at his friend and found him staring at Sai’s daughter who had followed her father out of the dining room.

He poked Pandit’s and asked, “You have been quiet since we got here.”

“A cat got my tongue and now I can’t speak,” Pandit said rubbing his waist, earning a snort from Kaju in return.

“You look ready to get your heart broken again,” Kaju said.
“Yes, sir. I am!”
“Forget about it. She’s betrothed to a scholar from the capital.” Kaju rained on his parade while eating a mouthful of lettuce. Swallowing the food he told Pandit, “They studied together in the academy and have known each other for years.”

Pandit clicked his tongue and sat back in the chair with his arms crossed. “Why are all the good girls infatuated with country boys?”

“--Because village boys are too busy playing with dirt and have no care for their futures.” Kaju preached, trying again to make Pandit join the army. Then he looked at Mannat and the calm way he was finishing his plate. “Well, most of them are anyway. Who would give a useless, clueless boy,” —every word a thorn in Pandit’s heart— “the treasure of their house?”

That was all Pandit could take before his soul left his body… figuratively that is. He was defeated and sat back with his lips sealed, sullen and destitute. Only Mannat could have saved him from the lecture and Mannat did just that.

Mannat cleaned up and stood up.

“Let’s go,” Mannat said just as Sai’s daughter came back to get them.

She noticed the weird atmosphere but didn’t comment on it. Mannat nodded to her and left the way she had come without giving her the chance to speak.

“Is he always like that?” The girl asked Pandit who took the rare chance with strides.
“You get used to him,” Pandit said standing up. “People used to make fun of him for being so…”

“Focused,” The girl said tilting her head to the left and opening her eyes wide.

“Yes, that’s right.” Pandit’s eyes wandered between her lips and her eyes, both making his heartbeat wildly. He licked his lips to unseal them and said, “He’s a little tough to work around, but a good person.”

“You must be a good person too.” The girl said.

Pandit almost forgot to breathe. “I—” A squeak came from his throat. He cleared his throat as the girl sized him up and down. “I won’t go as far as to say I’m a good person,” He said somehow, gaining confidence when her eyes fixed back on his face. “But I try to make sure he doesn’t get lonely. I try to accompany him around if I can. That’s the least I can do as his friend.”

“Aww,” Her eyes softened and that was it. “You are a good friend. I’m Morni.” She extended her hand toward Pandit and the boy didn’t let the chance slip by.
“I’m Pandit,”

And that was it. 

Pandit instantly sensed Kaju’s bewildered eyes on him and couldn’t help grinning at the old man.
Pandit was smug and why wouldn’t he be? He might have started the race badly, but he won in the end, didn’t he?