Amara stumbles on her unsteady legs, looking up at her mother holding the urn. Her mother’s white Sari, made her illuminate in the sun as they moved across the street,  their hands envelope each other as they walked down to the river.  Amara let out a insecure whine when her mother let her hand go, not wanting to get lost among the people around them.

Her mother ignored her though, tears in her eyes flowing as she open the earn. She trembled, but Amos was there to hold her stead. Amara whined again, wanting someone to lift her up. She looked around to find her father, but her was nowhere to be seen.

“Ma? Where is baba?”

At the sound of her question, her mother broke down, falling to her knees, clutching the urn. Amos held her, saying calming words before grabbing the urn and started to sprinkle it on the flowing water.

“Where is baba?” asked Amara again, silenting when someone grabbed her hand. She looked around to see a chubby little boy holding her hand, his face crinkled up in determination. “Vihaan, they won’t tell me where baba is.”

“Your baba won’t be coming back,” the boy said.

“You are lying! Baba said he would.” Amara’s little round face winkled as tears started to flow, she hit him over the chest and Vihaan stood there, the little body taking her anger without a word of discontent.

“My Baba said that they had set his spirit free, and he won’t be coming back to you again,” Vihaan said, his big eyes turned to hers. “But don’t worry, I promised your baba I would be taking care of you.”

With a groan, Amara opened her eyes. Her face wet from tears. It had been so long since she dreamed of that day, it was almost lost in time. Why had those memories resurfaced now?

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice asked. Vihaan sat leaned against the rumble of the room. He was as dirty as she was, eyes tired and most likely felt the same hunger as she did. How long had they wandered these halls?

“Just an old dream.”

“Of what?”

“The day by the river, when we finally sent the ashes down the river. I was so angry afterward, wondering why my father had left me and my mother. He went into that unstable tomb to save those artifacts, knowing that it might be the last thing he ever did. Amos warned him but…”

“You father was a determined man,” Vihaan smiled at her, his eyes showing affection. “Just like you.”

Amara let out a snort,” I’m nothing like him.”

“Really, aren’t you throwing yourself into a tomb seeking artifacts to save with your life at stake?”

“Yes, but I’m doing it because of him,” Amara straighten as she sat up, brushing off her clothes. “I could never understand why he did it so I decided to find out by going down the same path, walking the same steps as him.”

“And have you found out why he did it?”

“No, all I have found out is that it put other people in the path of danger,” Amara looked over at Vihaan, ”I’m sorry for putting you in danger.”

Looking down as our last water, ”Well, I always heard fasting is good for the soul.”

“Seeking enlightenment?”

“Or just the lose of some weight.”

“Are you saying I’m fat.”

“Like an elephant. It’s all the nankhatai.”

“You sound like my mother.”

They both grinned at eachother, before they stood up, pulling their camp together.

“So, where should we go this time. Right or left?” asked Vihaan, nodding at the two doorways.

“My map says left,” Amara said, holding up the notepad showing her drawing of the path they have already crossed.

“That’s a doodle.”

“It’s a map.”

Vihaan did not look convinced but raised his hands in surrender. “We cannot be even more lost than we already are. Lead the way.”

“That’s the spirit. Now let’s hope I’m not holding the map upside down like last time and let’s go!”

*****

Gritting her teeth, Amara pressed herself through the narrow space. Stone seem to engulf her and her hope that the crack would widen was squashed as it did the opposite.

“How’s it going?” Vihaan’s voice echoed in the narrow space.

“If I get stuck, you can bet your ass that I’ll expect you to press yourself in here to save me,” Amara shouted back, coughing has dust filled her mouth.

“Of course, would I ever abandon you?” Vihan replied, ensuring that Amara was certain that he would never do that even if her life was in danger.

Finally noticing that the narrow space seem to end, Amara shouted out in triumphant and climbed out to a golden room. Pools covered most of the space, and Amara rushed forward, leaning down to taste it. It was sweet. Not only that, a colorful shape swimming in the water told Amara that there was life in the pool. Fishes to eat.

“Amara, what did you find?”

“You were right. It is water,” Amara shouted back, looking around to find that it was a close space. The room was covered in gold and plants. In the center of the room was a statue of what could be considered a handsome man. He had black skin, four arms, a fit body, handsome young face, long hair and eyes that seem to be made out of obsidian. The man seem to be blind, but that wouldn’t matter much as in his forehead was a third eye, glaring at all who enter the room in a ember color.  He wore the clothes of an ancient king, making Amara wonder if he maybe was.

“Can you open the door?” asked Vihaan, and Amara turned toward the golden gates that was adorned with two Asuras seemingly guarding the opening. It had been closed from the other side, but with a grin Amara removed what covered the door and opened it up.

Vihaan stood by the other side, grinning as he saw the water. “With water and… Is that fish?!”

He cleared his throat as he walked inside. “It is a good place to camp, as we can lock the door. Maybe we can use it as our center camp, always coming back here at the end of the day. It should be easier to make a map if we have a place to center ourselves.”

“A good plan,” Amara said, nodding to the array of colorful fruits in the room. “There seem to be plenty of fruit, and fresh water.”

“How did the fish survive in here?”

“From what I can tell, these pools are deep and built more like lakes. I can see fauna at the bottom,” Amara replied as they locked the door up to ensure that nothing jumped them as they slept.

Not waiting, Vihaan tried to catch some fish while Amara picked some fruits as she perused the walls.

“Anything interesting?” Vihaan asked, as he set up bonfire.

“Yes, the reliefs seem to tell a story from Shiva Purana. It is about the blind son of Shiva and Parvati, born blind and Parvati was disgusted by the childs horrid looks. Shiva gave the child to the Asura king, Hiraṇyakṣa, to raise and the child was given the name Andhaka. “

“I remember, “ Vihaan said as he sat down, cooking the fish. “After his father’s death, Andhaka became the king, conquering several other races. He wanted a wife and asked for the most beautiful one, leading him to Parvati. He kidnaps her and Shiva comes to her rescue, killing him with his trishula.”

“That is the a good summary of the story, though this seem to be another version.”

“There are plenty of versions. In Kurma Purana, Andhaka is the birthson of Hiranyaksa, making him a true Asura along with not trying to marry his mother. I guess some version tries to clean up the old ones.”

“Well, this one seems to hint that Andhaka did seek up his mother, but not to marry but to get answers to why he was abandoned. Parvati was once again disgusted and refused to acknowledge an Asura as her son. In anger Andhaka kidnapped her, causing a war to happen between the Devas and Asuras,” Amara said, walking towards the fire, lured by the scent of food. “There is no mention of his death.”

“That is curious, though if I remember correctly, in Kurma Purana his sins are forgiven and Parvati accept him as her son so maybe this one doesn’t end with his death.”

“Perhaps,” Amara said, taking a bite out of some date fruits. “The reliefs seem to end with the war being started. The story isn’t finished so I cannot determine which text it is from.”

She stopped eating when she noticed Vihaan frowning at something by the statue. “What is it?”

He nodded toward the ground beneath the statue,” Doesn’t that look like that strange rubble from the statue on the plaza outside the palace we encountered?”

Amara rose, walking over to get a better view of what he spoke of. Leaning down to take a closer look, she must agree. It had the strange shell-like surface, like the statue was hollow and had broken. Picking up what looked like the residue of a mask, she showed it to him. “What does this look like?”

Vihaan watched the mask, his eyes slowly going to the face of the golden statue that most likely depicted the king of the Asuras, Andhaka.