The glint of light from the distant hillside wasn't a trick of the sun. It was a cold, hard confirmation. Bhayam (Fear), sharp and immediate, lanced through Kunal, momentarily rooting him to the spot amidst the ancient stones of Taxila. They had followed him. Or they had been waiting. The distinction hardly mattered now. He was exposed, a solitary figure in a vast ruin, under the scrutiny of an unseen watcher.
This time, however, the paralysis didn't last. The encounter at Elephanta, the fall into the hidden chamber, Chanakya's stark warnings – they had forged something new within him, an instinct for survival sharpened by the terrifying reality of his situation. He didn't freeze; he reacted.
Dropping low in a fluid motion, Kunal used the crumbling base of the ancient stupa for cover, pressing himself against the warm, weathered stone. His heart hammered against his ribs, but his breathing steadied. He risked a quick, cautious glance back towards the hill. The glint was gone, but that meant nothing. They knew he'd seen them. They knew he was alerted.
Staying here was suicide. Confrontation alone was madness. Retreat – immediate, cautious retreat – was the only option. But which way? Going back the way he came felt too predictable. He needed to get back towards the main track where the auto-wala waited, but without leading the watcher – potentially armed with a scope – directly to his only means of transport.
He scanned the surrounding ruins. Low walls, scattered pillars, depressions in the earth marking collapsed structures – a maze offering intermittent cover. He visualized Ananya's maps, trying to recall the layout. He'd have to take a longer, more circuitous route, keeping the stupa ruins between himself and the watcher's last known position for as long as possible. "Bach ke nikalna hoga," he thought grimly. (Have to escape safely.)
Taking a deep breath, Kunal broke cover, moving fast and low, ducking behind a section of crumbling wall, pausing to listen. Only the wind sighing through the ruins. He moved again, darting across an open patch to the shelter of another structure's foundation. His senses felt hyper-alert, every rustle of leaves, every distant bird call sounding like a potential threat. He kept expecting the crack of a rifle shot, the whiz of a projectile. Nothing. Just the oppressive silence and the unnerving feeling of unseen eyes tracking his progress. He risked another quick look back towards the hill – still no sign of movement, no revealing glint. Were they playing with him? Or just gathering intelligence?
The retreat felt agonizingly slow, his muscles burning with tension. He bypassed the main pathway, sticking to the less-trodden ground, using the undulating terrain to his advantage. Finally, after what felt like an hour but was probably only twenty minutes, he saw the dusty track ahead, and mercifully, the familiar shape of the yellow and black auto-rickshaw parked under a scraggly tree. The elderly driver was dozing in the front seat.
Kunal approached cautiously from the side, checking the surroundings one last time before quickly opening the back door and sliding in. "Chalo, chalo! Jaldi! (Go, go! Quickly!)" he urged, tapping the driver's shoulder.
The old man startled awake, blinking confusedly for a moment before recognizing Kunal. Seeing the urgency on Kunal's face, he didn't ask questions, just grunted, started the engine with a sputter, and pulled away from the ruins, kicking up a cloud of dust. Kunal kept watch through the back, scanning the landscape, until the ruined monastery complex and the watching hills receded into the distance. He allowed himself a small exhale of relief, but the knot of fear remained. They knew he was here.
Back in the relative anonymity of the small town, Kunal practically barricaded himself inside his modest guesthouse room. He wedged a chair under the doorknob, checked the flimsy window latch, and drew the thin curtains. Only then did he pull out the burner phone. Signal was weak but present. He needed to talk to Ananya and Abhishek, now.
He sent a quick message first on their encrypted channel: 'Safe back in town. Found something. But was definitely watched/targeted at ruins. Need to talk ASAP.'
His phone rang almost immediately. It was Abhishek. "Bhai! Thank God! Watched? Targeted? Kya hua? Theek hai tu? (What happened? Are you okay?)"
"Haan, main theek hoon," Kunal assured him, quickly recounting the glint of light, the immediate retreat, the feeling of being hunted. "I didn't see who, but someone was there, Abhi. With optics."
"Shit. So they followed you, or they knew you'd go there." Abhishek's voice was tight with worry. "Yaar, I told you it was risky alone! You need to get out of Taxila, Kunal. Now. Your location is blown."
"Let me talk to Ananya first," Kunal said, just as Ananya joined the call.
"Kunal! Oh thank god! Watched? Did you see them? What did you find?" Ananya's questions tumbled out.
Kunal took a breath and explained everything from the beginning – the pull towards that specific ruin, the Ārambha symbol, the strange script, the memory flash of being a student novice learning about patterns from a monk, and finally, finding the obsidian fragment just before spotting the watcher.
There was silence on the line for a moment as they processed it.
"Ārambha…" Ananya murmured. "The Beginning. And a geometric symbol, you said? And an obsidian fragment that fits it?" Her researcher's mind immediately latched onto the clues. "Obsidian… used in ancient times for tools, weapons, scrying mirrors… sometimes considered a stone of protection or truth-telling. And geometry was central to Vedic cosmology and ritual. Kunal, can you describe the symbol? Send a picture of the fragment?"
"Doing it now," Kunal said, carefully photographing the small, dark stone with the burner phone and sending it, along with a rough sketch of the symbol he remembered from the wall.
"You need to leave, Kunal," Abhishek interjected firmly. "Forget the stone, forget the symbols for now. Your safety first. Woh log mazak nahin kar rahe hain. (Those people aren't joking around.)"
"I know the risk, Abhi," Kunal said quietly, turning the obsidian fragment over in his palm. It felt cool, smooth, almost alive. "But fleeing feels… wrong. The man at Elephanta said to follow my instincts, visit these places. I just got here, found this clue… leaving now feels like letting them win, letting them chase me away from my own past."
He looked at the fragment again. The memory flash hadn't been about the prince; it was about the student. About learning foundational knowledge connected to patterns, geometry, maybe even the 'pattern' the pale-eyed man mentioned. This felt important. "This place, this symbol… it's Ārambha, the beginning. Maybe the beginning of understanding why Kunala was important, why he was a threat beyond just being Ashoka's son."
"Okay, okay," Ananya cut in, likely sensing Kunal's resolve. "Maybe you don't leave Taxila immediately. But you can't stay in that guesthouse, Kunal. It's compromised. And you can't go back to the main ruins like a tourist."
Abhishek sighed, clearly still unhappy but seeing Kunal wouldn't be easily dissuaded. "Alright. New plan. You move guesthouses tonight. Find the most basic, anonymous place possible. Tomorrow? No obvious visits to major sites. Maybe try blending in? Local clothes? And if you must explore, stick to very different, less predictable areas. Ananya, based on that symbol, are there other, smaller sites nearby linked to geometry, astronomy, or early Buddhist scholasticism?"
"Let me check…" Ananya was already typing furiously. "There are mentions of smaller, unexcavated monastic sites, some associated with specific mathematical or philosophical schools… maybe one of those would resonate without being an obvious target?"
Kunal felt a surge of gratitude for his friends. They worried, they argued, but they adapted, strategized. "Theek hai," he agreed. "I'll move tonight. Find a new place. Tomorrow… I explore differently. More carefully." He looked at the obsidian fragment again. "Main yahan se abhi nahin jaa sakta." (I can't leave here right now.) He needed to understand this key, this beginning.
The conversation continued, planning logistics, communication protocols, Ananya promising to dive deep into the symbol and related local sites. As they finally disconnected, Kunal felt the exhaustion hit him fully, but beneath it was a cold, hard determination. He carefully packed his few belongings again, the obsidian fragment feeling heavy in his pocket. He slipped out of the guesthouse into the anonymity of the town's evening bustle, searching for a new, temporary refuge. The hunt was on, and he was both the prey and the seeker, walking a tightrope between uncovering millennia-old secrets and surviving the dangers of the present day.
To be continued...