The night sky was a shade of purple and embedded with a million tiny stars.
The people of Wagharr formed a silhouette against this backdrop as they continued on their journey. They could breathe easy now, for the chill in the air was evident and the snow under their feet led them into a wild landscape made of shrubs and giant Tulka trees. Behind this forest towered the majestic ice capped mountains of Hima.
“Do you think we have won?” asked Kaaliyar.
“Without a doubt.” said Arjuna.
“I wanted to stay back.” mumbled Ghator. “I wanted to fight along with father.”
“I shall personally inform this to General Bhavanu once they arrive here victorious.” Arjuna said with a smile. “Do not worry, my brother. The army of Wagharr maybe small in number but we have the blessings of Lord Hanuman.”
“Then why were we asked to leave?” said Kaaliyar.
“The strategy of war does not pertain to only fighting the enemy.” Arjuna said going into a thought. He shook his mind off of the images from the invasion. Focus was required to the task at hand. He had been entrusted with the responsibility of keeping the citizens safe.
“I still remember them.” Kaaliyar reminisced in a low voice. “Their masks of steel…those huge blades of metal…weapons that spewed fire…”
“…which are all destined to fail.” Arjuna said confidently. “Father would have certainly unleashed the Shield of Hanuman. Injured we may be, but the Shergha will not move past the walls of Wagharr.”
Ghator looked grim.
For some reason, he could find no truth in Arjuna’s words.