Indrasen Sundav's Arc

Chapter 1 of 4

Indrasen Sundav wakes before dawn and presses his bare feet into the cool earth. He still does not know who he was before this life. He meditates by the hut, then works the field, leaning on the pitchfork beside the gathered straw. The day passes plain and quiet. When night falls, he lies down and sleep takes him fast. He dreams of a lake. Lotus blossoms float on the dark water. Moonlight sparkles across the surface like scattered glass. A woman walks the shore in a white sari. She holds a small clay lamp ahead of her, its flame steady and gold. She is singing. The song pulls him forward. Each note tugs at something buried under his ribs. The woman lifts the lamp higher, searching the dark, her face wet with old tears. She does not see him. She only sings, and walks, and searches. A small hand grabs his. Indrasen looks down. A little boy stands beside him, brown-eyed, serious. The boy has his face. The boy yanks hard and pulls him away from the lake, into the trees. The boy stops at a shallow puddle. A blade lies in the water. Its edge is dark with blood. The boy tugs Indrasen's dhoti, pulling him low. He cups his small hands around Indrasen's ear. "A storm is coming," the boy whispers. Indrasen jolts upright in the dark. His chest is pounding. His hands are shaking. The woman's song still hums inside him, and so do the boy's four words. He does not know who she is. He does not know who he is. But something has shifted. The quiet days are over.