“It is cold tonight.”
“Strange are these winds. Has Ravilya arrived before its time?”
Two young farmers, bare torso and clad in short lower garments, sat huddled before the fire, embracing the warmth and light of the flames that flickered wildly with the wind. The lone hut behind them was only big enough to lay down after a hard day’s toil. The great River Subadra flowed a stone’s throw away from where they sat, its waters placid yet melodious with soft rippling sounds.
“Speak not of such ill words, dear brother. Our harvest is not due in another four months. The winds of Ravilya spares nothing.”
The other huddled into himself tightly. “It is a cold night indeed.”
Soon the fire was doused by a strong gust of wind, and darkness arrived to cast everything in its hue under the moonless night sky. One of the brothers was about to curse out loudly when he recognized a strange silhouette rise from the waters of Subadra. A delusion, he thought at first, but was soon left short of breath.
The other turned around unassumingly, and then froze at where he sat, wide-eyed.
The silhouette grew taller as it approached, its stature bearing semblance to that of a walking tree. Nay, it was more than that. The head was small, and mighty was the torso that had six arms and two long and strong legs; even in the darkest of nights its reptilian scales would not fail to gleam. It approached the two brothers quickly, hissing, making soft click sounds of vile laughter.
Warjuna is an epic high fantasy novel in the making, its characters and locations borrowed from folklore that exist within Indian mythology, yet written with an attempt to weave a brand new saga.
I hope you enjoyed reading this post as much I loved writing it. Your thoughts/comments on the same would be welcomed with an epic heart.