NOVEL WEB Chapter 16: Pretabandana, the Ghost-Capture Urn
Svetavastra closed his eyes and made a mudra with his right with two fingers pointing up. A spiritual barrier formed around him stopping the pretas from getting to him. He turned to the merchants.
“Stay in the bullock cart,” he said and made a charm into the air that turned into a bright circle around the bullock cart forming a protective barrier.
The merchants confused but obedient followed Svetavastra’s directives. They could sense an eerie cold feeling in the air that sent shivers down their spine.
“It could be the pretas!” said one merchant to the other. They watched from the confines of the bullock cart as Svetavastra held up a barrier against the invisible pretas.
“They have such strong demonic energy,” commented Svetavastra as he held the spiritual barrier against the pretas, visible to him, they had a red aura emanating from their grotesque floating bodies and deranged eyes. They made unholy cries as they attacked the barrier with their sharp claws.
“I haven’t seen pretas like this,” said the preta in the bracer. “So many deranged ones in a single place is unheard of.”
Svetavastra puckered his brows as he tried to assess the situation. He would have to open the barrier to operate the pretabandana. Some of the pretas in the meantime headed to the bullock cart drawn by the scent of the humans. They kept attacking the barrier with force. The merchants would hear the clanks against the barriers. They held their breaths, carrying their hearts in their hands.
Then, they saw them. The grotesque creatures, red energy surrounding their bodies, bodies that looked like that of a worm with wiggling ends, clawed hands protruding, large tongues dancing in the air in between vicious fangs and eyes filled with the same red deranged demonic energy that surrounded them.
The merchants' shrieks of fear echoed through the air.
Svetavastra removed his barrier and jumped high into the air at a safe distance away from the bullock cart and the merchants. The grotesque creatures from the bullock and the ones that were previously surrounding his barrier rushed toward him.
“The humans can see them now!” said the preta from the bracer. “These are not pretas, they are pisachas!”
Svetavastra puckered his brows as he was warding off the grotesque creatures with his spiritual energy. He tried to spread his spiritual energy outward as a net to capture before he opened the pretabandana. Ghost forms were categorised into bhootas, pretas, and pisachas. Bhootas were harmless ghosts, pretas made mischief but again were harmless to an extent but pisachas were deadly, they possessed demonic energy and fed on human flesh. They were also visible to humans and instilled dread and nightmares into humans on sight.
“They are not true pisachas,” said Svetavastra. “They are pretas who have been turned into pisachas.”
“Is that possible?” asked the preta.
“You see the demonic energy?” said Svetavastra, “It’s not coming from them, it’s surrounding them and making them deranged.”
The preta in the bracer realised it upon observing the pisachas properly.
By now the spiritual net was cast around all the pisachas and Svetavastra brought out the pretabandana and thrust it into the air above him. A soft light emerged from it and the carvings it had on the outside came alive. It acted like a vacuum and started to engulf the pisachas into it. Svetavastra, still floating in the air, channeled his spiritual energy into the urn to power the pretabandana.
Outside of the spiritual net, a mysterious dark energy from nearby ley lines made its way through the spiritual net and pulled out some of the pisachas into the ley lines, making them disappear. Svetavastra shot spiritual energy towards the compromised part of the spiritual net with one hand while maintaining the stream of spiritual energy towards the urn. Soon, the rest of the pisachas were captured into the urn and everything ended as quickly as it had begun.
Svetavastra sealed the urn and waved for it to vanish into him. He opened the map from the Luminous Diksuchi and studied the ley lines surrounding the area. The ley line manipulation was not recorded in the map. Trouble, he thought to himself. I need to investigate this further. He flew down to the bullock cart.
“Cultivator!” cried the merchants coming out of the bullock cart. “A thousand thanks to you! You saved our lives! We are ever in your debt!”
Svetavastra waved his hand to calm them down.
“You better head back from where you came,” he said. “Stay away from unknown routes and places for a while.”
The merchants nodded frantically.
Svetavastra made a charm into the air with his spiritual energy and made it imprint on to the bullock cart.
“This will make it invisible to demonic energy,” he told the merchants. “You can safely return home.”
“A thousand thank yous!” said the merchants with tears in their eyes.
“How may we call you, cultivator?” asked one of the merchants before leaving.
“Svetavastra,” said Svetavastra finding the use of having a name.
“A thousand thanks for saving our lives, cultivator Svetavastra,” said the merchants again. “Your good deeds will not be forgotten.”
And indeed they were not. Once the merchants reached Arang, they spread the news of what had happened to them and how Svetavastra, the blind cultivator clad in white had saved them to everyone they knew who in turn told it to everyone they knew. By the next day, the entire city of Arang knew of Svetavastra's great deed in great graphic detail.
General Pushya knelt on one knee, head bent in front of the king. The courtroom was empty. It was only the two of them.
“I take full responsibility for the Kapala Army incident,” said the general.
The king did not speak for several moments, he quietly looked at the general.
“As you should,” said the king finally. “If the prince did not attack them, we would have been captured. The mighty city of Arang captured by a bandit army!”
General Pushya winced at the words.
“If you had been in my place, wouldn’t you find the timing of this suspicious?” said the king. “The mighty general of a great kingdom conveniently away when the capital city is under attack.”
The general dare not lift his head.
“We could have died - me and the prince,” said the king, “creating a perfect vacuum of political power for you to assume the throne.”
“How do I prove my loyalty to you?” said the general still kneeling.
“Make a Blood Oath to the prince,” said the king.
General Pushya's eyes widened with shock. He went still for a moment. Blood Oaths were binding for life and irrevocable. They were much worse than death. Going against a blood oath would curse the betrayer’s bloodline into the same act of betrayal against them for all eternity.
“As you wish,” he said making eye contact with the king, to show his resolve.
“Himmat,” said Aryaman, his bandaged hand patting the horse gently as he rode it towards the Northern Mines. “You are a noisy horse! You have to admit that!”
Himmat neighed in response.
“Exactly!” said Aryaman. “You can’t keep your horsy mouth shut, the whole plan would have been ruined if I had taken you!”
Himmat said something in response.
“I do trust you,” said Aryaman. “You have to trust me as well!”
Himmat made rebuffing noises.
“I got you so many new friends!” said Aryaman. “Don’t you like the new horses?”
Himmat made noises that expressed displeasure.
“They are aloof?” said Aryaman. “Of course, they’ll be aloof, their riders are imprisoned. What do you expect?”
And they continued to bicker thus as they headed towards the Northern Mines to retrieve Aryaman’s sword.
Somewhere in the palace, Sanjaya screamed in anguish upon finding Aryaman missing.
"The prince will be the death of me!" he muttered to himself.