Deep in the Meru Ranges on the slopes of a remote mountain, the ants began to migrate, scurrying in vast columns up a giant pine soaring hundreds of feet into the azure sky. They carried precious white eggs, searching for a safe haven, but the snowline was far colder than they could survive and huge numbers froze, covering the ice like grains of black sand.
Desperate as they were, the ants couldn’t know that even a tree this colossal would not survive what was coming.
Nothing would.
Some days later on the outskirts of the mountain village of Sailem, Arul sat with his best friend, Keeran on the banks of a mountain stream. The noisy brook originated high beyond the snowline and flowed past the village. From there it swiftly descended through the valley on its route down to the eastern plains, where it joined the mighty Palar River.
The teens flicked pebbles into the icy stream out of boredom, plopping them into the clear water as it flowed over rounded boulders the colour of slate. Arul’s looked at his Keeran dipping his toes in the clear water.
Keeran was close in age to Arul, but much taller. He was from the Pirāmanar caste. Priests that believed in non-violence and would not even speak harshly to others, which Arul didn’t understand. The jungles surrounding Sailem were full of violence and cruelty. It that was nature, Arul reasoned, that must be what the Gods willed.
Keeran stared idly at Jaya. The wolf sat perfectly still, his eyes tracking schools of tiny fish that flitted about in the stream. ‘Why on earth did you call him Jayaditya? The Sun. I mean, he’s as black as night.’
Arul looked at Jaya, who ignored them and continued to watch the fish. ‘Well, when Appa brought him out of the forest when he was a pup, I thought his eyes had some kind of light in them. Like the Sun. I think his Amma was killed by some other wolves so he would have died out there for sure.’
Keeran nodded. ‘Lucky for him.’ He dipped his hand into the sparkling cold water. ‘Do you think the Royal Scouts will really come to Sailem?’ His amber eyes swivelled to Arul. Keeran’s gawky face gave the impression that he still had some growing left to balance out his features. He was often annoying, but they had always been best friends.
‘Well, if they choose one of us to enter the Royal Academy, imagine how proud everyone will feel. How much it would lift the status of the village!’
‘But what exactly do you study at the Academy? Nobody seems to know,’ said Keeran. Arul shrugged. Who knew what students learnt at the greatest centre of learning on the continent?
Well, I don’t want to go and live in the freezing mountains way down south,’ declared Keeran. He grinned. ‘Anyhow, the Scouts will take one look at you, and they’ll run straight back down the valley!’
Arul threw a stick at Keeran’s legs, but he danced out of the way in a flash. After a half-hearted chase along the banks of the stream, Arul gave up. Breathing hard, he spied a nice round pebble and was about to peg it when he noticed Keeran staring into the sky. Following his friend’s gaze, Arul squinted at the shape of a white and brown sea-eagle flying in strange patterns over the valley.
‘What on earth?’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ Keeran replied as he sat down. ‘That bird doesn’t live in the mountains. It should be on the coast.’ They watched the enormous eagle fly in tight circles, then dip into sudden unpredictable arcs. ‘Something’s wrong with it!’
With a piercing scream, it flew straight at them.
‘Run!’ Keeran shouted, scrambling to his feet. Arul didn’t need any encouragement to join his friend, sprinting hard for the cover of a nearby guava tree, Keeran overtaking him on his long legs. Arul twisted his head over his shoulder and saw nothing but blue sky.
Where’s it gone?
The next few seconds seemed to take an eternity. Without warning, Arul felt the ground dip away. With a cry, he fell headfirst onto the grass, rolling uncontrollably.
The horizon tumbled as he fought to roll upright and keep running. But it was too late. The eagle’s talons found his back, raking bloody furrows as it passed. Arul screamed in agony, trying to shield his head as he rolled to a stop. With a tremendous whooshing sound, the bird flashed past at an incredible speed, soaring up for another attack.
Arul’s writhed helplessly on his stomach, his back a knot of pain. Then Keeran’s hands materialised out of nowhere and dragged Arul to cover. They took cover under a guava tree, Arul’s face contorted, his back red with blood. Keeran grabbed a fallen guava and flung it desperately at the eagle with a yell.
The bird tried to reach them but was frustrated by the tree branches. It screamed its displeasure before climbing high above the tree and circling. Then something completely unexpected happened.
The great bird plunged upside down without warning, spiralling into the ground with an awful shriek that made the boys cringe. Keeran swore, something he rarely did. They stared into the plantation where the bird had crashed, Arul’s injury forgotten for a moment.
‘Nothing could survive a crash like that,’ Keeran said, his voice tight. ‘It’s not right.’
‘Worse, it’s not natural’, Arul whispered. Then he remembered his injury. The stabbing pain struck with such violence that it left him on his knees, gasping. He reached for his circular amulet, his only link to his mother. He wasn’t quite sure afterwards, but he thought he could feel it briefly radiate heat into his palm. He felt as though something sheltered him from the pain, just as a tree shelters one from the midday heat.
‘C’mon, put your arm around my neck,’ said Keeran.
Using Keeran for support, he hobbled his way back to the village, looking for the village healer. They found her outside her ramshackle hut, picking leaves off some herbs. A wizened stooped woman with green eyes, Inba eyed the boys with a frown.
‘What is it this time?’ She grumbled while adjusting her ragged woollen shawl, her eyes widening when she saw Arul’s bloody wounds. She rushed him inside with remarkable speed for someone so old, barking instructions to Keeran. ‘Well? Don’t stand there gawking! Light a fire under the water kettle!’ She glanced at Keeran with a suspicious face and rubbed her rather large nose. ‘You do know how to light a fire, don’t you?’
That evening in Inba’s hut, Arul lay on his stomach and stared at a flickering brass deepam. He could smell the buttery ney used to fuel he lamp and felt rather hungry.
It’s a pity they use the same clarified butter to make sweets. What a waste to use it in a deepam.
He could almost taste the ghee-infused sweets made in great heaps during the New Year Puthandu festival. Any thoughts of sweets fled when Inba placed a fresh herbal poultice on his back. ‘Stop writhing like a speared fish, boy!’ Amma’s leathery voice barked. Arul tried to keep still.
Now I know what a skewered fish feels like.
Next to him stood his Appa and Keeran, watching the scene, eyes filled with worry. The old woman muttered, ‘I didn’t think I’d live to treat a sea eagle attack. I’ve never even set eyes on the sea.’
Arul’s father spoke respectfully, as all villagers did to Inba. ‘I didn’t think I’d live to see such a thing either, Aunty. I’m also puzzled as to why such a creature would attack someone as large as Arul.’
The healer muttered something and began mixing more herbs in a brass pestle, the odour of crushed herbs overwhelming. Arul sniffed the air.
She’s making a poultice of tamarind leaves.
Arul’s Appa turned to Keeran. ‘Thank you for being so brave with Arul. I’ll take him home now if Aunty has no objections.’ He hugged Keeran. ‘You’d better get back home too.’
Inba called out to Arul’s father. ‘Make sure that Navira comes for her lesson this week. She’s the only girl in the village with enough dedication to learn my craft anyway.’
Keeran bent over and whispered to Arul, a wide grin splitting his narrow face. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, eagle boy.’
Arul groaned, staring at the deepam flame as though hypnotised, floating on the pungent aroma of herbs and medicinal pastes filling the hut. Outside the window, a noisy cricket cree-creed in the approaching night, now settling like a thick blanket over the alpine valley.