THE evening sun glistened above the walls of the city, but the red of the sky seemed foreboding. At the central road toward the palace, they saw in the distance many individuals running terrified and behind them were five elephants stampeding on the road, breaking many stalls, cracking the walls of the buildings with the tusks, and their eyes a deep red. Suddenly, Tūmbṃār ran from the group to the elephants, and the others gave chase in haste to pull him back, but it was too late, the elephants were less than a furlong from the boy as the others were pushed back by the rampaging throng.
He gazed into the elephants’ eyes, staying calm and holding his arms out. He exhaled and suddenly the elephants stopped. He walked to them and petted their trunks, and the elephants gave a cry of joy, lifting him onto their backs. Feyūnhaḥ and others were very much relieved as the people slowly made back to the road to see the boy atop the elephants. The throngs cried to the gods to bless the child, joyous for what Tūmbṃār had done.
The elephants cried in unison and walked down the road. As they walked down shouting, Haḥsvyan, Haḥsvyan, Haḥsvyan! a man from within the throng pushed through the people. And when he had come close to the elephants, he leaped into the air with a powerful gust flying behind him. He landed upon their backs and Tūmbṃār turned behind to see it was the trainer, but he looked different.
His eyes, like the elephants’, were bloodshot, and spreading his arms to the side, there danced within his palms two great pillars of fire swirling like a coil about a rod. Wielding them like swords, he furiously swung them toward the boy. Tūmbṃār, at that moment, spread a wall of water. It had no effect and effortlessly did the swords of fire pierce through, steaming the water upon contact and singeing the boy’s beard. The steam spread quickly like smoke. All were blinded by it. Then a crash and a cry! The trainer was sent flying from the steam with Tūmbṃār following close after.
They landed atop a building as his group tried to look for him. When the steam had cleared, Sanyhaḥmān looked up and shouted, “He’s upon the roofs!”
With haste, the others followed after Tūmbṃār and the trainer, who ran atop the buildings, evading each other’s attacks. This was far from ideal, for Tūmbṃār had to conceal his powers and so only evaded the attacks of his assailant. A few had most likely seen the wall of water he created and had seen through the disguise, but no more should his powers be used. For word to leak of it would put them in quite the predicament.
The two kept running across the buildings as the others ran through the alleys, as per the directions of Sanyhaḥmān. When Tūmbṃār and the trainer had reached a portion of the city with leveled roofs and thin spaces between the buildings, Tūmbṃār kept distance between them and bore his short sword.
The Dvı̄sahlvah gleamed under the sun, but he would not course the powers through it in fear that someone might still see them. The trainer gnashed his teeth, and holding his arms out once more, he encased them in earth. And with his palms waxed, the fire so strong melted the surface of the earth. With a lunge and a powerful swing of his arms, he launched the pieces of the fiery earth toward Tūmbṃār and he quickly evaded the shots as they landed behind and burst with great force, sending pieces of stone and brick to fly.
“Why do you attack?” cried Tūmbṃār. “I know I wasn’t the best patron, but hardly does it seem fair for you to hurt me after what you had done to the animals.”
But the trainer did not speak as if not hearing his words. He ran to Tūmbṃār with the drips of the molten earth falling to the surface and melting the roof before hardening. Tūmbṃār was left with no choice: he encased his feet in air and evaded the oncoming strike, then pointing the sword to the trainer, he coursed his power through it and issued a jet of water, sharp and pressured enough that it cut through the air and extinguished the flames upon the trainer’s encrusted arms.
Steam issued once more and quickly spread from the point of contact. Tūmbṃār taking advantage of this, ran through the hot mist and encased his short sword in flames. When he was in reach of the trainer he swung! But his strike was blocked. The trainer, with his other arm, grabbed onto Tūmbṃār’s head and leaped out of the mist. And high in the air, he propelled himself downward with a great gust holding the boy below him.
A loud crash onto the surface of the roof reverberated across the town. The remnants of the edifice flew on high and landed afar. Fires spread quickly from there and blocked any entrance to the site of their battle.
The trainer released his hold on Tūmbṃār who laid bloodied on the surface with his mouth agape and paralyzed from the shock. Greater would the damage have been had he not already softened the blow with a thick layer of earth.
The trainer was not yet done, however, and kicked Tūmbṃār into the wall. Just strong enough was the kick that Tūmbṃār damaged the surface but did not push through. The boy then awoke from his shock and spewed blood and broken teeth. He fell to the floor, shaking. He had severely underestimated his opponent.
In that moment, all he could think about was how much trouble he and the others would be in when this was over. He had not yet given up. Slowly propping himself on his legs, he exhaled and inhaled four times. Each one deeper than the last. When he was ready, he looked to the trainer, who still gnashed his teeth and inched closer to Tūmbṃār waxing his powers even greater than before. Fire, earth, air in unison flying all about him. But he seemed to release much more than he could bear as his skin alighted by the flames and seared. Unaffected was the trainer, and he held his left arm out as he concentrated the elements within, compressing it to great effect.
Then he stopped and looked to the boy, cocking his head. Tūmbṃār held the blade, concentrating his own power to a faintly darkened tip. A silence, a glare, and a breath whisked from their mouths: they dashed toward each other as their cries resounded. And with a flash, the trainer released the elements, blasting the walls of the buildings with a terrible myriad of cascading powers.
But just as quickly was his leg pierced by Tūmbṃār who gave another cry as he released the aether, tearing the trainer’s leg and sending him crashing toward the other wall. The darkness of the element encased him; he fell to the floor quivering; and he tried to crawl, but with no power left in him, he released his tightened grip on the sword and let his hand fall.
Tūmbṃār rushed to the trainer and turned him over. He dispelled the aether and looked at his severed leg that was still bleeding. Tūmbṃār felt sick seeing it and he began to breathe heavily, seeing what he had done. But before he let the anxiety take over, he issued a concentrated blast of fire and cauterized the leg. He shifted his head to the trainer’s face and he could see a pool of blood frothing from his mouth. He was too late. The trainer had bitten through his tongue and suffocated.
Tears welled within Tūmbṃār’s eyes. He looked around and saw the charred corpses of those who were once alive. No longer could he contain his sadness, and he wailed. He had sorely failed in his conviction, now twice. His eyes closed, and he fainted from exhaustion.
The envoy’s soldiers not long after came through the flames and eviscerated the body, leaving it as a pile of ash. They quickly escaped as night enveloped the sky. Amid the confusion did they make their way through the unguarded gate upon camels and rode far into the desert, their objective fulfilled.
