“There’s a stream in the forest,” Yudhajit said. “To the south. It comes from there.”
“Good boy,” my father said. “Stay here. I will lead a party to put an end to this monster.”
At that moment, a servant came in and wordlessly began helping my father into his armor. Outside, we could hear the sounds of others conversing despite the dark hour. The whispers were growing, and I imagined the news spreading like wildfire from tent to tent, the camp rousing to the sound of weapons being prepared.
Once our father had departed, I sank to the earth floor of the tent, suddenly exhausted. Even the anger at my father was gone, for now he was marching to fight a rakshasa. My eyes pricked, thinking of the danger we had been in and the danger our father would soon be in. Yudhajit sat next to me, looking equally afraid. We sat for what seemed like an eternity and must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew a clamor was echoing all through the camp. Yudhajit sprang to his feet, racing for the tent entrance. He ran straight into our father.
“You were right, Yudhajit,” he said. His face was frightening in his grimness. “There was a rakshasa in that forest, and he looked to be coming for our camp. We were able to slay him, but not without a cost.”
“What cost?” Yudhajit looked stricken.
“We lost three men.” My father’s voice was weary. “We will cremate them at the Sarasvati River. We were lucky this was a weak rakshasa, barely capable of intelligent thought. The gods smiled upon us to give warning—we would have lost more than three had the demon made it here. You have done well, my son. I will think on how to reward you.”
I glanced at Yudhajit, wondering if he would mention me at all, but he just inclined his head and said, “Thank you, Father.”
Father gave him a genuine smile, the kind that transformed his whole face. “You are quite welcome. Now make preparations to leave. We will still ride this day.”
We left together.
Outside, I spun to face Yudhajit, unsure what to say. He smiled, tired but relieved. “I am so glad you were with me.”
He walked away, not even waiting for me as I stood there dumbfounded. No thanks for saving him at the stream or covering our disobedience, not even an apology for Father’s oversight.
But then, this was the way of the world to Yudhajit. And standing there, I knew that I would never truly grow accustomed to it.
The next day, our somber party reached the banks of the river. As relieved as we were to have survived, the deaths of the men weighed heavily on us all.
As we approached the water, silence fell over our group, a sort of mounting anticipation.
Even though I had seen it before, the sight of it took my breath away, a clear white and blue ribbon weaving through the hills, its current dancing in the wind, seemingly playful but swift enough to carry unsuspecting travelers to their doom.
Standing barefoot, my toes pressing into the damp earth and the sound of the water surrounding me, I was gripped once again by the urge to pray. Around me, people were kneeling next to the water, cupping it in their hands and pouring it on their heads, each absorbed in their own rituals. The sages were preparing to perform the funeral rites, to ask for the river to bless my father.
I stepped forward, feeling uncertain, until I reached the edge of the water. For once, I knew nobody would scold me for getting my dress muddy.
“Sri Sarasvati, I pray to you for wisdom,” I whispered. I glanced around, but nobody was near enough to hear me speak so softly. “I ask you for knowledge of my gift. Why do I have it? What am I meant to do with it?”
I shut my eyes so tightly that I could not even see the redness of sunlight behind my eyelids. There was some small hope still inside me that now, after helping to save our camp, the goddess might see fit to bless me. I waited for a vision, for a spark, but nothing came. “Please,” I begged. “I have always prayed and tried my hardest to be good. Please give me a sign. Help me to understand how to use it.” Even then I thought of Neeti, of her face and what I had done.
But Sarasvati did not seem inclined to help me fix what I had broken. There was silence, save for the rustling and murmuring of those around me. A breeze blew down the river, pricking my skin. I unclasped my hands and rubbed my arms, abandoning the last bit of hope that the goddess might listen to me. The sages began ringing their bells and I rose to my feet, rubbing at my stinging eyes. Slowly, I walked back toward the horses, knowing Father would not notice.
“Are you okay?” Yudhajit asked from behind me.
I whirled around. “I’m fine.” Where had he come from? He should have been with Father. “You should go back.”