This is my third piece featuring Nakul, who wields the ability to take on traits from nearby animals and use them. There is a cost though.
This story is set in India. Below are definitions for the Hindi words you’ll find used in the story.
Mātā – mama.
Ajee! – Good gracious! Good Heavens!
Priya – Nakul’s deceased, older sister.
Vaah! – Wow!
Are nahin – Oh no!
Ḵẖudā – diety, god, divinity
Lēnēvālā – taker
Monsoon season dominated the countryside. A seemingly endless storm ebbed and waned, day to day, week to week and now month to month. Torrential rains submerged much of the landscape surrounding the village, its people patiently enduring this life-giving deluge.
From an outlying house, a restless boy stared out a doorway. Nakul was aching to venture outside. He was ever vigilant, scanning above for signs of any approaching respite in precipitation. The especially prolonged, heavy, soaking rain, the day began with, had miraculously ceased and a burgeoning patch of blue sky emerged high up in the sky.
“What is it Nakul?”
“The rain has stopped. I’m going out. I’ll stay close. I want to see how fat the stream is with rainwater.”
“Stay out of the stream, Nakul! It will be swift and the flooding disrupts the wildlife.”
“Nakul! Your walking stick. In case of snakes. Remember, Priya. Ajee!.”
“Yes, Mātā. I remember.”
Nakul didn’t fear snakes, even the poisonous ones. He understood his mother’s dread, but he had never known his older sister. She died before he was born.
Nakul’s favorite tree grew along the stream. He was surprised by the extent of the flooding. The familiar scene was strange and compelling. No longer along the banks, it sat within this new, swollen river.
“Vaah!” he exclaimed.
Nakul yearned to climb up and survey everything.
Reluctant to disobey his mother, the water posed a problem. He gave the situation some thought. Only a few steps would bring him to the trunk. Swishing the stick back and forth repeatedly, he probed the water. Nakul cautiously waded in. The water was just past his knees. Emboldened, he sloshed quickly to the tree and secured the stick into the submersed earth. His conscience nagged. Keen to leave the dangerous water, he blindly grabbed the lowest branch to pull himself up.
Straight away, he noted a difference. Expecting a rough, unyielding surface, his grasp instead sunk into something softer. The branch roiled. Pain lanced Nakul’s hand, jarring fingers, wrist and arm like an electrical shock. Releasing, pushing away, he stumbled backwards falling with a splash. Gaping upwards stupidly, Nakul recognized the markings of a king cobra. Dumbfounded, he peered down at two marks glistening like vibrant ruby pendants.
Finding his feet, Nakul ran. He sprinted. Adrenaline quicken his breath, his heartbeat and supercharged muscles. His frantic struggle accelerated the spread of venom throughout his body. His vision blurred and waves of dizziness disoriented him. Unbeknownst to Nakul, he was racing further away from his village.
“Are nahin! Help! Somebody!”
Nakul struggled to breath.
He collapsed to the damp ground in pain.
He tried to rise, but his limbs felt stiff and uncoordinated.
Nakul lay gasping, growing colder, knowing he was dying.
Moment bled slowing into moment.
He was lost and alone.
As he began to drift away from the pain, a voice shouted.
I’M COMING! DON’T GIVE UP!
Nakul searched feebly, seeing no one. But, an ember of hope flickered brighter.
He fought to stay awake, alive.
The voice sounded close.
Here. Next to you.
Nakul turned his head to vaguely see an old, graying mongoose. Nakul understood animals didn’t speak, but he was young enough to accept this current incongruence with reality.
“A cobra bit me.”
I smell it.
“Mongoose. I’m dying.”
No. You are different. I can help. Accept my help. I am old with little time left. I will give you what I no longer need. You could demand it; take it from me, but I see you are unaware of what you are. I gift it to you. Take it.
“i …don’t know what you’re talking about…i don’t understand”
You are out of time. Let me help you.
“how…how can you help”
An ever so sight pain pinched Nakul. The little beast had bit his wounded hand. Now, a warm itchiness oscillated up his arm.
He felt the mongoose’s nip only added insult to injury.
Nakul wondered if the mongoose was hungry.
The thought was absurd.
“why did you bite me?”
Giving you something only a mongoose possesses…so you may live.
Nakul felt a sweat break out. A buzzing in his ears intensified, drowning out all other sounds. He felt as if his very blood was boiling within. Somehow, he knew a battle was raging and his side was winning.
Time passed and finally all was still and silent.
The pain was gone.
“I feel better. I don’t understand?”
A mongoose is immune to snake venom. Now, you are too.
Most men don’t have the speech and the ability to assume power from us. To us you are Ḵẖudā. Your kind calls you Lēnēvālā.
Nakul sat up. Observing his hand, the wound appeared now only as a bite from something non-poisonous like the checkered keelback snake. Gazing up, he startled seeing the mongoose lying prone with labored breathing.
I too… change. You have given… in return… a part of yourself.
Nakul sat by the mongoose gently stroking its fur, watching in disbelief as glossy, dark brown hair replaced its grey, grizzled appearance. Suddenly, the mongoose was up. It stretched and bounced around.
This is a tremendous boon! Youth returns! You have given me some of your natural longevity.
Nakul pondered this. He knew mongoose typically lived a fraction of the time a person might.
“Am I going to die now?”
Hmm, I need a good look at you.
The mongoose jumped around Nakul sniffing. Satisfied with his inspection, he peered up at in Nakul.
You smell the same to me. Humans live forever to a creature such as me.
But, something else felt different to Nakul. Watching the mongoose catch and tear apart a large beetle with sharp canines, he realized what was different. Feeling inside his mouth, he confirmed it was full of sharp, pointy, jagged, canine teeth.
“Look you gave me your teeth too!”
Word Count: 1000.
Courtesy of Prompt Titled: Need a Hand?
By THESOLITARYWORDSMITH at PROMPTUARIUM.
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