PROLOGUE

It was one of the darkest nights in memory. The moon was not shining in the night sky. Dark clouds appearing from the east had snuffed the stars. The wind was howling through the land. A storm was developing for sure.

But a far greater storm was brewing in the hearts of two men traversing through a dense forest, which became denser as they moved ahead. The men were on their way to rescue the Prince of Suryagarh, a one-year-old child, who had been snatched from his mother’s arms and brought to this god-forsaken corner of the kingdom. The clothes on their bodies were getting torn by the branches of trees and shrubs.

They no longer winced at the pain caused by every new thorn they came across, for now they were near their objective. They had been fighting and walking through the forest in the dark for some time now. Then they saw a glimmer of light from straight ahead.

A smile appeared across the face of the king, who was one of the two men. The brave warrior knew he was the last hope for saving his kingdom and his son. He turned around to look at his companion, the chief of his army, Pradyuman, his trusted advisor and dearest friend. Even now, Pradyuman was looking all around for any signs of danger that could be lurking in the woods.

As they moved further towards the light, they came across a clearing, at the centre of which stood the oldest temple in the kingdom. A temple no one ever visited or prayed in. The people of the kingdom of Suryagarh called it the ‘Temple of the Cursed’.

They knew the prince was inside the temple, as the clearing was lit with torches all around and there was clear evidence of the presence of a small army camp. The kidnappers, whom they had fought earlier, had told them that they would never see the prince, for he was inside the temple guarded by fifty men. They had arrived at the temple, but there was no sign of the men.

King Raghavendra was thinking very hard. He had a decision to make and an order to give to his companion, even though he was not sure if his friend would obey it. But his mind was made up.

If they fought inside the temple, it was not certain if both of them would come out alive. This was unacceptable, as the prince had to live through the ordeal. For this to happen, it was necessary that at least one of them stayed alive, overcoming whatever danger awaited them inside.

So, the king turned to his friend and spoke in a tone that was more of a plea than an order.

He said, “I’m going inside alone. You are to stay here and guard the entrance, in case of an ambush. I will find my son and bring him back. You will stay hidden. If I don’t come out with my son, you have to go back and give the news to my sister.”

“What if there are more men inside? What if you are not able to fight them alone?” asked Pradyuman.

Raghavendra smiled despite the situation and the truth behind the questions. “Are you doubting your king’s capabilities, soldier? Or are you concerned about your childhood friend?”

Pradyuman bowed his head in respect and said, “I have never doubted the courage and skills of my King. That will never happen!”

“So, it is out of concern. I thank you for that. But this is the best thing to do. If we go inside together and we both die or are captured, we will not be able to save the prince.”

“But, My Lord…,” interjected Pradyuman.

Raghavendra raised his hand in a dismissive manner and turned towards the clearing. “Go hide and wait for me!” he said.

Weighed down by loyalty, the army chief did not utter a single word. He stood there, as he saw his king walk with his head held high, his armour clinking in the silent night. It took the king mere moments to walk across the temple courtyard.

Soon he vanished into the temple.

Pradyuman slid back into a line of trees, from where the temple entrance was clearly visible to him. And he waited patiently.

The warrior stood his ground. He decided that he would wait till morning before he took any decision—to leave or stay behind for his friend. Time passed and the clouds began to darken the sky. The wind became chilly; it was if it had started raining somewhere nearby. Pradyuman suspected that it would start raining there anytime soon; then hiding in the trees could become difficult.

But it was not to be, for soon he saw a silhouette at the temple entrance. Pradyuman was unable to see clearly. So, he stood behind a tree and craned his neck to have a better look. The silhouette was moving directly towards him, stumbling at times.

As the person came in the range of the torches, he saw that it was the king himself, sword in one hand and a one-year old boy on his left shoulder. Delighted, Pradyuman ran towards his friend. As he reached closer, he realised that something was wrong, terribly wrong.

Raghavendra was bleeding. He was hurt! His legs had many cuts, long and deep. Even the hand in which he was holding the prince was bleeding. His shoulders were cut too. And god alone knew how he was holding the heavy sword so high. The king kept looking behind, as though someone was following him.

As Pradyuman went closer, the king collapsed on his friend, still holding the boy who was crying. His heavy sword fell to the ground with a thud. Pradyuman held the king and helped him behind the tree line. Then he saw his face. It was bleeding from many small cuts on his cheeks. But there was something in the king’s eye that shocked the army chief. It was something that he had never seen. It was fear.

Pradyuman helped the king rest against a tree. Then he took the crying boy from his hands and put him down. Then, as he turned towards the king, a sound emanated from the temple. It sent a chill down Pradyuman’s spine as it echoed all across the area.

Pradyuman had heard several stories and myths about the temple, perpetuated by the people of Suryagarh. But very few people knew the truth behind them. One of the men who knew the truth was King Raghavendra. Although he wanted to leave the place at once, he paused to ask the king the question whose answer he did not want to hear. “What was that?”

The king raised his head and said, “My friend, all your life you have served this kingdom and its king with utmost loyalty. No one can question your dedication and sacrifice. But today, I’m going to ask you for the biggest sacrifice of them all. It is not a king’s order but a friend’s plea. It is time you leave, my friend. Take my son and leave. Not just this place but the kingdom too. Take the prince as far away from the empire as possible. This is the only way to save him and the kingdom.”

“What happened inside,” the king stuttered, “will change the course of the future. Many lives will be lost. Many things will change. And the only person who can end all of that is my son.”

Both of them turned and looked at the child who had now stopped crying and was looking at the trees above him with utmost curiosity.

“Will you tell me what happened inside or are you just going to order me to leave everything behind and take the prince away?” asked Pradyuman.

“If there was time, I would explain everything to you, but every moment that passes will make both of you more vulnerable to danger. Just take him and raise him as your own. Train him to be the best warrior the world has seen, so that, when the time comes, he is ready.”

“Ready for what?”

The king turned towards his son and said, “You will know when the time comes.” He leaned over, took the boy in his arms, and held him in one last embrace. A tear drop fell from his eye. Then he looked at his son’s face. The child had now started crying.

He said, “Be brave, my son, you have to be brave now and till the end.”

He turned towards Pradyuman and asked him, “Will you do this last favour for your friend?”

Pradyuman knelt beside his king. “I have never disobeyed you, my friend, and I am not going to do it now.”

Raghavendra smiled. “His mother wanted to call him Chandra.”

“Then, that will be his name,” said Pradyuman.

The king placed his boy in Pradyuman’s hands and said, “Do not go back the way we came from. Take another route that will get you out of the border of our kingdom. Give me one of your swords. I will try to stop whatever comes your way. Go now. Hurry! There is no time to lose.”

Pradyuman took one of his two swords and put it in the king’s hand. Then he leaned and embraced his friend for the first and last time.

“I will not fail you.”

“I know you won’t. Farewell.” With these words and a last kiss on his son’s forehead, the king held his sword high and walked towards the temple courtyard. He stood near one of the torches for support and held his place, as though it was his last stand.

The howling emanated again from the temple. Then it began to rain. As lightning struck the sky and momentarily lit up the area, Pradyuman gave one last glance at his mighty friend and the great king. Then he started moving towards the backside of the temple, carrying his other sword in one hand and the prince in the other.

Chandra was now fast asleep. He did not know that his identity had changed completely. He did not know that, when he woke up, he would be far away from his home and his family, away from the life that was supposed to be. He would not know that he had to be a prince and not a commoner.