Chapter 1:

Chapter 1:That day changed everything (part 1)

Rakshakudu: The Savior into the New World season 1,part 1


The thunder of hooves vibrated through Eva's chest, a desperate drumbeat against her own pounding heart.


 Twisted branches whipped past as she urged her horse deeper into the forest, her armor catching slivers of pale light. 

Behind them, a chorus of guttural snarls rose, growing closer, and the eyes of the wolf-like beasts glowed like malevolent embers in the deepening gloom.

Eva’s silver hair streamed behind her as she clutched the reins, her voice a strained whisper. "Selene... we shouldn't have come this deep!"

Selene’s golden hair, wild in the wind, remained a blur of motion as she drew her sword without slowing. Her eyes burned with fierce resolve. "Don’t be afraid, Eva. We can handle this!"

The wolves closed in, their rank breath hot on their heels, snarls filling the air.

And then—

A new thunder joined the cacophony — heavier, more deliberate. From the deepest shadows of the woods, a figure exploded into sight. 

A young man, his black hair a wild banner, a bright thirunamam — the sacred mark of his faith — gleaming on his forehead, rode a powerful white horse, his sword already drawn, the steel a blinding flash in the dim light.

Another rider followed on a brown horse, a bow already in his hands, his eyes sharp, scanning the encroaching pack.

Ramana’s lips stretched into a wide grin, a flicker of amusement in his gaze. "Subramanyam, didn’t I tell Selene this would happen? And look — was I wrong?"

Selene’s jaw tightened, a muscle jumping in her cheek. She snapped her gaze away, her lips pressed into a thin, tight line.

Subramanyam’s voice came, cool and steady, even amidst the chaos. "You’re right, Ramana."

Ramana’s sword rose, reflecting the pale light. "Attack!"

He charged into the pack, a blur of motion, cutting through the wolves like a storm.

"Subramanyam!"

Arrows whistled from behind, a deadly symphony, as Subramanyam loosed volleys, striking down beast after beast with practiced ease.

Ramana leapt from his horse, landing lightly on his feet, his blade a dancing silver arc. 

The wolves rushed him, jaws wide, claws flashing, their snarls turning to choked cries. His sword moved with impossible speed — one down, then two, then three — until, with a final, visceral roar, he drove his blade straight into a wolf’s gaping maw.

The creature burst into a cloud of black smoke that billowed into the sky, leaving behind a lingering scent of ash and ozone. The others followed, dissolving like a bad dream until only the silence of the forest remained.

Ramana caught his breath, turning to Eva. "What were those things?"

Eva wiped sweat from her brow, her eyes wide with a lingering terror. "Not real wolves. Magic... born of the Supreme Demon Lord’s power."

Ramana’s gaze sharpened, settling on Selene. His voice held an edge of exasperation. "Now do you see why I warned you not to go so deep? You wouldn’t listen."

Selene’s expression hardened further, her shoulders squaring. Without a word, she turned her horse with a sharp tug of the reins and rode off.

Eva stared after her, then turned back to Ramana, a frown creasing her brow. "I thought you didn’t know how to—"

Ramana cut her off, raising his voice just enough for Selene to hear as she rode away. "Who needs to be an expert? Sometimes danger itself teaches us. The moment forces us to learn."

Selene didn’t look back — but Ramana saw the slight, almost imperceptible pause in her reins before she pressed on, disappearing into the trees.

Eva clicked her tongue, a sound of frustration, and spurred her horse. "Selene! Wait!" She galloped after her friend, leaving Ramana and Subramanyam behind.

Subramanyam glanced at Ramana, a questioning look in his eyes. "We should go too."

Ramana nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips as he swung up onto his horse. Together they rode, the forest swallowing their figures.
Just before he disappeared from sight, Ramana looked straight ahead — his eyes glinting with a distant, knowing light — and smiled.


Scene Shifts

Subramanyam, noticing the lingering smile, peered at him. "Why are you smiling, bava?"

Ramana’s fingers brushed the chain at his neck, the cool metal of the pendant pressing against his skin. He let out a quiet breath. "Nothing, Subramanyam. Just thinking... about how our world changed overnight."

His eyes stayed on the path ahead, but his voice dropped softer, reflective. "Do you remember how many weeks it’s been since we arrived here?"

Subramanyam thought for a moment, his brow furrowing. "Maybe... two, three weeks, Ramana?"

Ramana nodded slowly. "That day changed everything."

He lifted the chain fully into his palm. The sunlight caught the pendant: the holy face of Lord Venkateswara Swamy, flanked by the Shanku and Chakra. The gold shimmered faintly, as if the light itself offered a blessing. Its familiar weight brought him back, not to the present, but to the scent of jasmine and the soft chime of a temple bell from a few weeks ago...

Scene Shift — A Few Weeks Ago

The morning air was thick with the sweet, heavy scent of jasmine and fresh earth. Somewhere, a temple bell chimed softly, its gentle rhythm carried on the breeze, a promise of peace.

Ramana walked the path toward the temple of Lord Venkateswara Swamy, its white walls glowing under the rising sun. After his darshan, he stepped outside, settling onto the worn stone steps, the quiet of the place a comforting balm around him.

Then, a voice shattered the peace.

"Bava! Is it true? You’re leaving?"

Subramanyam came rushing up, his breath uneven, his face a mask of plain worry.

Ramana offered a small, strained smile. "Yes, bava."

"But... why?"

Ramana’s gaze dropped to the dusty ground, avoiding Subramanyam's probing eyes. "I really don’t want to leave this village, don’t want to move to some apartment in the city..."

A sudden cloud descended over his thoughts, a memory flashing: the screech of tires, the roar of an engine out of control. A car flew into the air, crashing down with a sickening thud in the heart of the village.

Ramana’s jaw tightened, a muscle jumping. "But what happened two years ago... it still haunts me. Every time I pass that spot in the centre..."

Subramanyam shook his head, stepping closer, his voice earnest. "Ramana, that was an accident. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t this village’s fault. It was just fate. Why can’t you just—"

"I can’t, ra. I just can’t." Ramana’s voice was firm but heavy, cutting him off.

He looked up, forcing a lighter tone into his voice. "Anyway, thank you so much, bava. We’ll meet again. I’ll come back for holy days — Sankranti, for sure."

Subramanyam frowned, a shadow falling over his face. "But how will you manage? You don’t know anyone in the city."

Ramana smiled, his eyes glinting with quiet faith. "Let’s leave that to the Lord."

Just then, the temple bell rang out, deeper, clearer this time. Ramana turned toward the sound, a sense of conviction settling in him. "See? Let’s go."

The two walked off together, the temple’s sacred rhythm following them as the scene faded.

Next Morning

The morning sun bathed the village in gold as Ramana stood before his house, taking in every corner one last time. The tall pillars gleamed faintly in the soft light, the cool white marble stone a familiar comfort beneath his fingers as he traced its intricate patterns. The broad verandah, the intricately carved balcony railings, the polished marble floors that had echoed with his footsteps since childhood — he wanted to etch it all into memory, to carry every detail with him.

With a quiet breath, he swung his bag over his shoulder, stepped out, final and heavy in the stillness of dawn, sealing away a chapter of his life.

Outside his house, his uncle and aunt waited, their faces lined with worry, their eyes shadowed with unspoken concern.

His uncle’s voice, thick with emotion, broke the silence. "Ramana, what makes you leave? Do you feel we didn’t care for you enough? Tell me — in what way did we ever treat you less than Karthik?"

Ramana shook his head, a quick, dismissive gesture, and stepped forward. "No, Māmayya. No, Attayya... You both cared for me and treated me as your own son. It’s not about anything else. This is just… me. I need to move on from the past."

His voice softened, a hint of sorrow in it as he added, "I’ll come back. I promise. For Sankranti, at least."

They blessed him, their eyes glistening with unshed tears, and Ramana bowed low, touching their feet in a gesture of profound respect.

As he went toward his scooter outside, a voice — rough but kind — called out. "So, you’re leaving the village, child?"

Ramana turned. An old man stood there, leaning on a long stick. His saffron robes fluttered gently in the breeze, and his white beard framed a face that seemed both tired and ageless, his eyes holding an ancient wisdom.

"I’ve never seen you before," Ramana said, puzzled. "Who are you, old man?"

The sage smiled faintly, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Yes… I came today, because this is the right moment. Your life is about to change. You are going to change the entire world, child."

Ramana blinked, a half-laugh escaping his lips. "Me? Change the world? Are you joking, sir?"

But the sage’s gaze remained unwavering, holding Ramana’s. Instead, he reached inside his robe and drew out a chain — a small golden pendant of Lord Venkateswara’s face, with the Shanku and Chakra shining in the morning light.

"Take this. It will protect you from all obstacles."

Ramana hesitated, a strange curiosity overriding his disbelief, then accepted it, feeling its unexpected warmth against his palm. "I… I don’t know about changing the world. But thank you. Is this… for free?"

The sage only nodded, his smile deepening slightly.

Ramana slipped the chain around his neck, the pendant settling against his heart, a comforting weight. He turned back to his scooter, but before he could start it, the old man’s voice rang out once more, clear and resonant.

"Your journey is just about to begin Narayana... Narayana..."

Ramana’s eyes widened, then narrowed in disbelief. He spun around, a frantic sweep of his gaze, but the sage was simply... gone. The spot where the old man had stood was empty, as if he'd never been there at all.

"What?" Ramana muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "Where did he go?"

Just then, Subramanyam came running up, breathless. "Wait up! I want to talk to you."

Ramana stared at him, still reeling. "Did you see that sage I was just talking to?"

Subramanyam blinked, looking genuinely confused. "Sage? I thought you were on your phone or something. I didn’t see anyone — I just saw you standing here talking, so I ran over."

Ramana’s heart raced, a strange mix of wonder and unease churning within him. Was it a vision?

Subramanyam grinned, throwing an arm around his shoulder with a familiar weight. "Wherever you’re going, I’m coming too!"

Ramana groaned, a long, exasperated sound escaping him. "Where are you coming, Kartikeya Subramanyam? Did you ask Māmayya and Attayya?"

Subramanyam nodded, his face bright with triumph. "They agreed. I told them I want to try city life too." He waved enthusiastically at his parents by the house. "Bye, Mom! Dad!"

His mother cupped her hands around her mouth and called out from the gate. "Take care, both of you! No fighting, okay? Study well, get good jobs. I trust you boys!"

His father added, "Bye, take care!"

His parents exchanged a knowing glance, their eyes finally settling on Ramana and Subramanyam, a mixture of love and concern on their faces.

As they started up the scooter, Ramana muttered under his breath, "Why do I need him tagging along like a tail…"

Subramanyam frowned, leaning in. "What was that?"

Ramana smirked, a glint in his eye. "Nothing, nothing. Let’s go, bro."

The scooter’s engine roared to life.

 Together, they sped down the dusty road, leaving the village behind — and the life they thought they understood.