Kama: Liberation (Vol-I)

Chapter 24: The Luna Revealed

What is meant to be, is meant to be.

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"Will I get an answer?"

Rudra stared at the moon and waited. This night was going to very important, he knew. Maybe he would be getting another shock in his life, perhaps the fact that his wolf was severely affected, negatively impacted by the sins of his human counterpart. Maybe his wolf was going to die, leaving him scavenging earth as a useless immortal with no power. Maybe his command as an Alpha was dwindling.

Maybe, maybe things were going to go wrong.

But when he looked at the pale light of the sublime moon, he forgot it all. A smile graced his lips. Maybe he was wrong that things would go wrong. There was nothing he could control, though. His wolf was destiny's personification. It knew more than he could comprehend.

Rudra was dressed in the special garbs of the Valley of Saints. It resembled a tunic that reached till his feet. The loose garment was tied by a belt of barley and dry branches at his waist. Motifs of the golden moon were drawn all over the white robe.

Tonight no meeting was to be held. All the werewolves were busy attending to the rituals in which their Alpha was soon going to participate. Rudra was going to stand before the supreme werewolves of the Valley of Saints– they were free from the social hierarchy, blessed by the moon goddess to be masters of wisdom and have the knowledge of the future. They rarely interacted with the normal werewolves. Even though Rudra was the Alpha, he too wasn't allowed to enter their periphery as he wished. He required permission.

Quite surprisingly, Aryamna often visited the true Saints, after whom the valley itself was named. They welcomed him like their own son even if he wasn't a werewolf. Rudra had often questioned Aryamna what makes him special to the special ones. But the Senapati never gave a straight answer. He always refused knowing why he was favoured. The normal pack didn't admire Aryamna much, but the supreme authorities did. It was one of the reasons why Aryamna could survive as a Beta.

"Alpha, you have been summoned by the Saints." A werewolf came and gave the news. Rudra followed him and reached a sacred hall. All around him, he saw the Saints stand. He bowed his head to them and they acknowledged his presence. His heart fidgeted in nervousness. What if he wasn't being a good Alpha and that was why his wolf acted strangely? Maybe he would be punished.

Inside the hall there was very little light. A row of four candles were kept on either side of the hall, over two wooden shelves. The walls were painted in purple with pictures of the luminaries painted in brown. In the middle was a golden mattress.

"They have asked you to sit there."

Rudra sat on the mattress, as if on a prayer. He never prayed. He had stopped calling god when Petra died. If she wasn't alive, there was no use of loving god.

The door of the hall opened again with creak. A man and a woman came in. In the darkness it was difficult to see them at first, but when they came near, Rudra could study them. The man had monolid eyes and long white hair, even white eyelashes. He wore a blue skirt, his upper body kept bare. A snowy uttariya was coiled around his arms. The woman was covered in shimmering black from head to toe. The man helped her to walk and sit across from Rudra.

She was shorter than Rudra. He tried to see through the veil but it was almost impossible. He could make out her eyes to some extent because they were glowing akin to pure molten gold. Her fingers were slender and her skin tender. There were some fine wrinkles, so Rudra couldn't exactly guess the age of the woman. Well, it was a foolish thought, since the Saints lived at least for a hundred years. They carried the will to die when they desired and most of them couldn't leave the mortal realm until all their humongous tasks and heavy responsibilities towards earth were fulfilled. Their fates were way more bigger than Rudra's. They were born to be the silent rulers of earth. They worked in the darkness, away from the eyes of the common folk and poor kings like him, weaving destinies as the gods demanded.