Chapter 17:
Whispers in the Sand
Tatva- The Awakening of Elements
Morning came pale and cold. The desert sun should have been fierce, but today its light felt thin, strained — as if the sky itself was tired.Kedar left his hut early, bare-footed, to feel the earth’s pulse beneath him. There was none.Even the desert beetles seemed to have gone silent.
He walked through Ravika’s narrow paths. Every door was shut, every window curtained. He knocked once at the potter’s house where he had seen a boy playing only yesterday — no answer.When he turned away, he noticed footprints leading from the door toward the well… and ending there.No return tracks.
Kedar leaned over the edge. The well’s water shone black, too still for wind to disturb.Then a ripple.A reflection that wasn’t his own.
A man’s face — young, regal, and smiling — stared back from the water’s surface.The crown of gold upon his brow melted like wax.
> “Restless, little flame?” a voice murmured, not from outside, but from inside his head.“The desert remembers what the world forgets.”
Kedar jerked back. The reflection vanished, the water calm once more. He inhaled deeply, whispering an old protection mantra taught by Guru Parshu. The air steadied — yet something of that voice lingered, warm and mocking.
---
The Old Woman’s Warning
Later that day he visited the elder again, but only the old woman who had spoken of the cursed prince remained at the house.She sat weaving dry grass into dolls, her eyes cloudy with age.
> “You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” she said without turning.“The prince?”“The mirror of the sand,” she replied. “He shows himself to those who carry too much memory.”
Kedar frowned. “Why only to some?”
> “Because he feeds on what you remember most dearly.”
Her voice dropped lower.
> “He is not a ghost. He is a curse that learned to dream. When you look long enough at the mirage… it begins to look back.”
Kedar bowed in gratitude. “Then I will not look.”
> “It won’t matter,” she whispered. “He already sees you.”
A chill wind swept through the hut though the door was closed. The dolls on her lap twisted, their straw limbs bending as if alive. Kedar blinked — and they were still again.He left without another word.
---
Shadows Before Dusk
By sunset, the desert began to breathe again, low gusts drawing spirals across the dunes.Kedar climbed a small ridge overlooking the mountain.From there, he saw faint trails of smoke rising from the palace ruins — impossible, since no one had lived there for centuries.
For a moment, the vision sharpened. He saw torches, golden banners, and music carried on the wind — the palace alive again, laughter echoing down the valley.Then he blinked — and everything was gone. Only crumbling stone and silence remained.
He whispered, half to himself,
> “Illusion… or memory?”
And far away, a whisper answered.
> “Both.”
---
Night of Silver Ash
That night the moon was full, silver and vast. The desert glowed faintly, dust turning to pale frost under its light.Kedar couldn’t sleep. The air around his hut felt heavy, humming with quiet rhythm — like breathing.
He stepped outside.
The village was asleep. Yet in the sand before him, footsteps appeared — one by one — leading toward the mountain.Each print glowed faintly for a heartbeat before fading.
He followed.
At the edge of Ravika, the last hut’s lamp flickered and died as he passed. Ahead, the desert stretched open, endless. The footprints stopped abruptly.And standing where they ended was a figure made of light and shadow — a man in royal robes, his eyes hollow gold.
> “Traveler,” the figure said softly. “You seek the ruin.”“Who are you?” Kedar demanded.“Once… a name. Now only an echo. The world called me Mayan.”
The word hung in the cold air.
> “Why show yourself?”“Because you listened,” the figure smiled sadly. “And because I am so very alone.”
His body shimmered, breaking apart like sand in the wind — and where he stood, only a single golden chain remained half-buried in dust.
Kedar bent to pick it up.It was warm.
---
The mountain loomed larger than before, its shape shifting subtly in the moonlight.For a heartbeat, Kedar saw the outline of a colossal palace gate — tall, ornate, sealed by darkness — and behind it, faint laughter echoing through centuries.
He turned back toward the sleeping village. The air was utterly still, but every shadow stretched toward him, long and thin, like reaching hands.
Kedar whispered a prayer under his breath — not for protection, but for permission.
> “If the past demands witness… I will walk its path.”
The desert wind sighed, and the dunes shifted, revealing a faint trail leading straight to the mountain.To be continued.......
He walked through Ravika’s narrow paths. Every door was shut, every window curtained. He knocked once at the potter’s house where he had seen a boy playing only yesterday — no answer.When he turned away, he noticed footprints leading from the door toward the well… and ending there.No return tracks.
Kedar leaned over the edge. The well’s water shone black, too still for wind to disturb.Then a ripple.A reflection that wasn’t his own.
A man’s face — young, regal, and smiling — stared back from the water’s surface.The crown of gold upon his brow melted like wax.
> “Restless, little flame?” a voice murmured, not from outside, but from inside his head.“The desert remembers what the world forgets.”
Kedar jerked back. The reflection vanished, the water calm once more. He inhaled deeply, whispering an old protection mantra taught by Guru Parshu. The air steadied — yet something of that voice lingered, warm and mocking.
---
The Old Woman’s Warning
Later that day he visited the elder again, but only the old woman who had spoken of the cursed prince remained at the house.She sat weaving dry grass into dolls, her eyes cloudy with age.
> “You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” she said without turning.“The prince?”“The mirror of the sand,” she replied. “He shows himself to those who carry too much memory.”
Kedar frowned. “Why only to some?”
> “Because he feeds on what you remember most dearly.”
Her voice dropped lower.
> “He is not a ghost. He is a curse that learned to dream. When you look long enough at the mirage… it begins to look back.”
Kedar bowed in gratitude. “Then I will not look.”
> “It won’t matter,” she whispered. “He already sees you.”
A chill wind swept through the hut though the door was closed. The dolls on her lap twisted, their straw limbs bending as if alive. Kedar blinked — and they were still again.He left without another word.
---
Shadows Before Dusk
By sunset, the desert began to breathe again, low gusts drawing spirals across the dunes.Kedar climbed a small ridge overlooking the mountain.From there, he saw faint trails of smoke rising from the palace ruins — impossible, since no one had lived there for centuries.
For a moment, the vision sharpened. He saw torches, golden banners, and music carried on the wind — the palace alive again, laughter echoing down the valley.Then he blinked — and everything was gone. Only crumbling stone and silence remained.
He whispered, half to himself,
> “Illusion… or memory?”
And far away, a whisper answered.
> “Both.”
---
Night of Silver Ash
That night the moon was full, silver and vast. The desert glowed faintly, dust turning to pale frost under its light.Kedar couldn’t sleep. The air around his hut felt heavy, humming with quiet rhythm — like breathing.
He stepped outside.
The village was asleep. Yet in the sand before him, footsteps appeared — one by one — leading toward the mountain.Each print glowed faintly for a heartbeat before fading.
He followed.
At the edge of Ravika, the last hut’s lamp flickered and died as he passed. Ahead, the desert stretched open, endless. The footprints stopped abruptly.And standing where they ended was a figure made of light and shadow — a man in royal robes, his eyes hollow gold.
> “Traveler,” the figure said softly. “You seek the ruin.”“Who are you?” Kedar demanded.“Once… a name. Now only an echo. The world called me Mayan.”
The word hung in the cold air.
> “Why show yourself?”“Because you listened,” the figure smiled sadly. “And because I am so very alone.”
His body shimmered, breaking apart like sand in the wind — and where he stood, only a single golden chain remained half-buried in dust.
Kedar bent to pick it up.It was warm.
---
The mountain loomed larger than before, its shape shifting subtly in the moonlight.For a heartbeat, Kedar saw the outline of a colossal palace gate — tall, ornate, sealed by darkness — and behind it, faint laughter echoing through centuries.
He turned back toward the sleeping village. The air was utterly still, but every shadow stretched toward him, long and thin, like reaching hands.
Kedar whispered a prayer under his breath — not for protection, but for permission.
> “If the past demands witness… I will walk its path.”
The desert wind sighed, and the dunes shifted, revealing a faint trail leading straight to the mountain.To be continued.......
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