The Second Circlet: The Old Places - 12. Segment 12: The Discus Of Time

The heat of India always amazed Moira. She’d been to many desert places, many tropical locales, and many sultry summertime cities in her time, but the heat of India was unique. The heat of India seeps into your body, into your very soul!

All but Mughamir and Nommo were affected by the stifling heat. Both had lived all their lives in places just as hot if not hotter than Sambhal. What seemed to fascinate Mughamir more than heat was the number and density of people that crowded the streets in cars, rickshaws, motorcycles, and on foot. Mughamir had never seen so many people all at once. Not even Cairo could get as crowded as what he was seeing in India!

Hector, though struggling slightly with the heat, was struggling more with the smells that came wafting in through the open van windows. They went from disgusting garbage smells, to choking exhaust, to tantalising scents of spicy food being prepared by vendors by the sides of the street. It was a crazy kaleidoscope of fragrances and odours that left Hector’s sense of smell utterly confused. That mixed with the incessant sounds from the street, that seemed near deafening at times, nearly made Hector swoon with his overstimulated senses.

As for Sean, Moira, and Viviane, all their Hibernian and Britannic constitutions could hope for was a nice dark place with lots and LOTS of air conditioning. There was hope in that. They were winding their way (too slowly for Sean’s liking) to a hotel they’d booked as soon as they had arrived back in Cairo from the Middle Of Nowhere, Africa.

The two Sídhe napped in the van, leaning comfortably against one another. Heat never bothered them so they felt quite content in the torrid atmosphere. They remained bundled in their customary hoodies that concealed their pointy ears.

Sambhal was well appointed with hotels since it was a pilgrimage city. Moira knew of this from her studies of Vaishnavism in India or, rather, the study of those that devote themselves to the god Vishnu. In a way, they were on a pilgrimage to this place too. A pilgrimage set off by a very haunting experience they had the night after their battle for the Mask of the Toloy.

That night they found out that, unlike all the other artefacts they’d collected for this secret war of theirs, the Mask of the Toloy had…a mind of its own!

That night, while they had slept, the Mask had awakened! It had begun rattling on the dresser upon which it had been placed. Before long, it had begun ‘leaping’, landing, and repeatedly slamming itself onto the dresser with sufficient force to wake Sean and Moira from their richly deserved sleep.

“What in the Devil…?” Sean had groused in question as he had been startled from yet another nice dream he’d never get to finish.

Moira had turned on the light to see the Mask continuing its odd display of spontaneous animation. Moira had observed it spinning itself in circles on the dresser. What’s more, its eye holes had been glowing most bizarrely!

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! The thing’s gone barmy!” Sean had exclaimed.

There had been a knock on the door and Moira opened it to find Nommo standing there, expressionless as ever. “The Spirits of the Mask speak. We must listen,” he had said with his usual inscrutability. Had he heard the ruckus being caused by the Mask or had it called out to him specifically, Nommo never said. But, he had seemed to be the one most attuned to the Mask.

“Sean, would you be a love and go get the others. I have a feeling everyone should be in on this.” Moira had requested. Sean had done as requested and had brought everyone to witness this latest insanity.

Nommo had put the Mask on and as soon as he had done this he seemed to go into some kind of trance. He had convulsed and went limp under the Mask’s spell. But, that had been short lived for as soon as everyone had gathered together, Nommo had awakened from his stupor and had begun looking around himself in odd jerking movements. Movements that had seemed to indicate that he was no longer in positive control of his body.

With a guttural voice, clearly not his own, Nommo had proclaimed, “Go you now to Shambhala! There, the Lord Of Time will give unto you his Discus - a weapon cosmic and omniversal. His people are in grave danger! Apocalypse is upon them!”

Then, as if on cue, the telly had ignited with but a glance of the Mask. There, a frightening display of power had manifested itself upon the Ganges River in India right as it passed the holy city of Varanasi. The water had been rising out of the holy river like a waterfall in reverse! What is more, from above, the levitating waters had formed a geometric pattern of intricate complexity! To Moira’s eye, it had looked eerily familiar! It had looked similar to the patterns found in crop circles or in the stone circles that formed in the Burren before she had left Ireland!

“God In Heaven! It is a…crop circle formed out of water!” Moira had said. Everyone, but the Sídhe and the Masked Nommo, had seemed fascinated and perplexed by the phenomenon. The Sídhe had looked to one another with a gravity of which Sean took particular notice.

“What ails the two of ye?” Sean had asked of Joraan.

“…just keep to watchin’.” Joraan had said, his grave concern reflected in his voice.

With terrifying abruptness, the Ganges Water Circle had collapsed with millions of gallons of water splashing back into the river all at once. This had caused a tidal wave that had ripped out from the disturbance and up and down the river. Within seconds, the Varanasi river bank and the river banks of all the towns along the Holy Ganges for miles had become inundated! The jaunty amateur camera-work, that had been showing multiple angles on the unprecedented event, had gone wild. The ones that had been wielding their mobile phone cameras either had dropped them or had moved them in such ways as to indicate that they had been running for their very lives! The helicopter shot of the river-borne tsunami had shown instant devastation and tragedy as the waters had flooded the holy coast of Varanasi sweeping untold thousands into the river and to their possible deaths!

The helicopter shot also had shown something else that was inexplicable to just about every observer of the tragedy, save two. From the centre of the water circle disturbance, just at the moment of its apocalyptic collapse, five black dots had emerged and had flown away in opposite directions!

“Did anyone else see that?” Viviane had asked in way of confirmation.

“Indeed! There were, by Allah, what looked liked five men that flew from the centre of the water circle!” Mughamir had exclaimed, excitedly, while Hector had nodded in affirmation.

“Not men. Fey.” M’yn had said in a dire monotone.

“It has…begun.” Joraan had amplified in a husky ragged whisper.

“The Ancient Ones have returned!” The Mask had said through Nommo.

And so it was that the cohort had decided to book passage to India and to the city the Mask had seemed to indicate, Sambhal - the closest they could figure by name and Hindu tradition to the name ‘Shambhala’.

Now, they wondered what to do next. They were in India and they were in the city of ‘Shambhala’ as the Mask had said, but what were they looking for? What was a ‘Discus Of Time’ and who was the ‘One’ that was supposed to be giving it to them?

Moira spent time in research, both through the general Internet and through her access to resources at Oxford. She came upon a tale as characteristically fantastical in the Hindu tradition as it was cunningly prescient for what they were currently experiencing with the Fey! It was, actually, a Vedic scripture held most sacred to the Hindu tradition.

“Per Hindu scripture, there is a weapon of the god Vishnu called the Sudarshana Chakra. It is a bladed ‘wheel’ or discus that serves as the Preserver’s primary weapon against evil. He wields it upon one of the fingers of his four arms. It is said to have been granted to Vishnu by Shiva the Destroyer after the former’s acts of devotion to his fellow Deva. It is often described as a metaphor for Cosmic Balance and for the Right Ordering of the Universe. Its primary aspect seems to involve the control of the Cosmic Wheel of Time or the Cycles of Reality. But, it is also considered an actual physical object. A device of power that can be manifested by an avatar of Vishnu upon the Earth to defeat the ‘Asuras’ or ‘Enemies of the Gods’. Asuras are, basically, considered demonic by most Vedic traditions and most were destroyed or banished from this plane of existence by the Devas or Hindu gods according to scripture. These Asuras bear an uncanny resemblance to the Fey in that most of the Asuras started out as ‘good’ or aligned with the Devas in the right ordering of all things, but then these Asuras turned against the Devas and became agents of chaos and thus…evil,” reported Moira.

“Well, ‘tis the what, but what ‘tis the where, aye?” Sean asked with his usual incisiveness.

“A very good question.” Moira answered and then turned to Nommo.

“Do ya think the Mask might provide more clues as to how and where we might find something like this Sudarshana Chakra?” Moira asked of him.

“The Spirits of the Toloy have told what they know. If there had been more they would have told us.” Nommo answered disappointingly.

“We need to find a who to find a where and a how. We need a guide just like we’ve had with the other artefacts. I suggest we visit some of the temples here in Sambhal. Perhaps, we can find a guru or holy man that might be in tune with what it is the Toloy are asking us to find.” Viviane offered with her Merlin directed wisdom.

“I suppose, casing the local Hindu temples might provide some direction to our search. We need to do something to, hopefully, prompt something to guide us in the right direction.” Moira surmised.

“Then, sure in that we can, we need to be makin’ haste. I sense time is growing very short for us. There are five Fey warriors already loosed upon this world. I am fearin’ that they are advance scouts up to God knows what!” Joraan spoke direly of their realities.

“Then up and at ‘em, eh?” Sean swept up and toward the door, obviously ready to go nowhere as fast as he could.

“Which temple?” Hector asked quietly, being one more targeted with their objectives than his older compatriot.

Surprisingly, a scan of Moira’s GPS app brought up a rather instant suggestion, “Hmmm. What about the Kalki Vishnu Mandir? It is, actually, not too far away!” Moira offered.

“And why this particular place?” M’yn wondered.

“This is a place where the last expected Avatar of Vishnu is worshipped. A being called Kalki. Just for reference, per Hindu tradition, the previous Avatar to this Kalki was the Buddha himself! The Vaishnavist Hindus have been awaiting the immanent incarnation of Kalki in recent years. Their tradition has it that Kalki will be the Avatar empowered to purge the world of a great evil and usher in a new age of peace for mankind.” Moira informed.

“Why is that important?” Sean asked skeptically.

“He is why Sambhal is considered particularly important in the Hindu tradition. I suspect the Spirits of the Toloy lead us to this particular place for a reason. I have a feeling that this Kalki may actually be alive now and that he will be our connection to ‘The Lord Of Time’ - Vishnu!” Moira said almost prophetically.

For all the fantastic happenings each had experienced on this journey, no one questioned Moira’s interpretation of things. They’d seen Greek and Egyptian gods…why not Hindu ones as well? The world had expanded beyond anyone’s preconceived notions of reality. If anything was possible, then why would it not be possible for a long expected avatar of a living Hindu god to arrive on Earth in this day and age? What could be more dire than the circumstances in which they had found themselves? A world on the verge of an extra-dimensional invasion leading to the very Apocalypse itself!

~

The Temple of Kalki was mere blocks away from their hotel, but to Mughamir the walk seemed like the height of adventure! Between the noise, the hawkers, the exotic scents, the vibrant colours, and the throng of people, he felt that he’d already been transported to another dimension! Yet, a haunting sound rose above the din that grounded Mughamir. It was the promise of Islam’s universality. It was the Adhan or the Muslim call to prayer. Sambhal was a predominantly Muslim city and to hear the muezzin make the Adhan at the appointed time brought great peace to Mughamir’s mind. He resisted the urge to follow that call, however. He had been keeping salat, or his daily prayer, as best as he could on their journey. But, Mughamir felt that Allah would be merciful if he missed a prayer or two along the way. He was on a pilgrimage of sorts after all - a Haj and a Jihad for the salvation of all Muslims as well as unbelievers everywhere. This journey was, in itself, an act of devotion. A continuous salat to the greatness of God and His purpose for Mughamir’s life. Even this short journey to a pagan temple would serve God’s purpose in saving the world from the scourge of the Fey and to bring about His peace to the Earth. Mughamir found comfort in this.

Sean was unused to the cacophony of an Indian city at the height of its busy day. His had always been a peaceful life with an almost overabundance of quiet. He was relieved as he saw the strangely shaped dome of the temple rise up behind some of the shops and residences crowding the little street they were walking. It meant an end to their arduous journey and the promise of going indoors somewhere out of the stifling heat.

The Sídhe were also uncomfortable on their crowded journey, but for different reasons. They found the curiosity of the surrounding people a bit disturbing. There was a fear that someone might take liberties and pull their hoods away from their heads and expose them. With the number of people about, Joraan particularly feared starting a riot or a stampede if he and M’yn were to be discovered. They needn’t have worried, however, since no one did more than offer the darkly clad ‘teenagers’ a perplexed look or even a tender one. It seemed Indians had a soft spot for ‘children’.

As they rounded the twisted confusion of streets, they finally came to their destination. Kalki Vishnu Mandir was quite the confection of Hindu temple architecture sporting a beautiful red, white, and gold motif. The dome was typically conical for Hindu temples and intricately carved. They all came before a gate that looked more like lace than wrought iron. Behind the gate, a little man, dressed in simple homespun with a braided beard and long grey hair, greeted them in a friendly if familiar manner.

“You are to be welcomed to the Temple of the Last Avatar! You are expected, friends! Please to be entering and to finding peace in this holy place,” the little smiling man said as he swung the two gates open to receive them.

“I am to be called Swami Ji, yes. I am devoted to the One Who Comes Last. He, it is, that has summoned you here,” this Swami Ji said with his customary bright white smile never leaving his rugged face.

Everyone followed Moira’s lead as she removed her shoes before entering into the ornate building. Fortunately, the Sídhe were wearing socks so that they would not have to explain their lack of digits on their dainty four toed feet.

Moira was extremely curious about the little swami’s claim that they had all been summoned by the very Kalki himself! Knowing what she did about Hindu eschatology, she knew this person to be a messiah to the Hindu religion and that he had been expected for, at least, a thousand years. She knew he was to be a righter of wrongs, a defender of all that is good, and the last conqueror of evil. He was always envisioned as being a mighty prince atop a white steed holding aloft a great sword. Would not such a person be cause for much celebration and attention? Wouldn’t he be quite famous? Why did she not hear of Kalki’s coming from her contact in India? Perhaps, for the same reason she never hears about just another Christ returned or Mahdi discovered. There have been so many who have claimed to be Kalki over the years that no one believes when another one crops up somewhere.

“Did Kalki come to you during your meditations or a dream, Swami?” Moira probed to be sure that this was not just another ‘psychic’ communication by a zealous, but addled mind.

“Oh no, Dear One…he told me himself! Come, he is expecting to see you. He is most anxious! The events at Varanasi - they have become noticed by him and concern him mightily!” The swami assured and directed.

“Would he be havin’ some knowledge of the goings on there upon the River Ganges?” Joraan’s strangely timbered voice inquired.

“Indeed, no! That is why he is most anxious to speak to you! He only knows, little Yaksha, that these Asura come as the forerunners to the end of this age and he knows that your people know this well! But, the details of this coming, they are unknown to him. He needs you to guide him as you have done these others.” Swami Ji said with a strange tenderness toward Joraan. Joraan did not know the meaning of the word ‘Yaksha’, but he figured that it meant that this holy man knew something of what he was and, somehow, what their mission was. Joraan perceived this in Swami Ji’s mind as he found the swami’s mind open to such perusal.

With that, the little man headed for the temple gate back through the way they had come. A little confused, Sean followed the others as they followed the weird little swami. He wondered where they were off to this time and what this Kalki guy was going to be all about. Mentally, he gripped Gungnir tightly fearing that he might have to use it again soon.

~

After an unexpectedly hair-raising drive through the busy streets of Sambhal in a lorry, the swami and Moira’s contingent found themselves on the outskirts of the city in a sparse rural countryside. With sporadic sentences in Hindi, Swami Ji directed their driver where they needed to go and the driver obliged good-naturedly. Moira hoped she had enough rupees to tip the man fairly. As it turned out, the driver settled for a blessing by the swami over any kind of monetary exchange. The driver even consented to staying by the roadside to wait for them so that he could take them back into the city.

Sean was eternally grateful to be out of the hot lorry and into, at least, some moving warm air as opposed to the stifling vehicle. He surveyed his surroundings and found the rural emptiness of the fields a stark contrast to the close claustrophobia of the city. They were headed for a little cobbled together bungalow that looked somewhat dilapidated yet functional. It was by no means a Taj Mahal! Certainly, it was the last place Sean would think to find a Messiah of some kind. Then again, Jesus was born in a manger so…

He walked with Moria and the others following the little guru fellow. The swami bypassed the front door of the bungalow and ventured around the back. Sean was suddenly in fear that they were trespassing on someone’s land and that someone was supposed to be some all-powerful avatar of something or another. He hoped that the swami hadn’t lead them into a ‘smiting’ of some kind. Sean was having trouble trusting the little fellow as he tended to smile too much.

They rounded the bungalow and were presented with a mighty expanse of what looked like a pepper plantation. The air smelled of that spicy smell peppers have, but without the heat. Off in the distance a lone figure could be seen walking amid his field guiding a beautiful white horse. Shamelessly, Swami Ji quickly made for the figure in the distance trailing Sean’s contingent behind him as they tried to keep up.

As they neared the figure, he came more into focus. He had long flowing black hair and wore simple white loose fitting clothing with some form of sari flowing in the warm breeze from about his neck. He was a striking figure even given his humble surroundings. He was, obviously, tall and strong of frame. As they came nearer to him, his profile belied a chiseled handsomeness to match his exotic swarthiness. He wore no beard and seemed intent on walking his breathtakingly beautiful horse.

Swami Ji stopped short of the tall man and flopped himself onto the ground in prayerful prostration. He muttered a mantra in Hindi until the horseman finally took notice of him. It seemed the man had been in some kind of meditation as he was walking.

“Rise my friend! Why, so ever, do you prostrate to me upon each of our meetings? It is unnecessary.” The man said with a deep and goodnatured voice.

“Upon your pleasure, Oh Holy One, I have brought those you foresaw coming to us! They are just as you said - a fellowship from many nations gathered together for but one purpose!” The swami said as the kindly man helped the old one to his feet.

Facing the newcomers with bright hazel eyes, the man’s countenance was even more striking full-face than it was in profile! His gaze had a hypnotic effect that stood everyone in their tracks. His smile was wide and bright and he projected an air of peace and confidence that was instantly welcoming. Upon his forehead he sported the Brahman dot of his caste.

“I am called Arinjay. Welcome to my humble lands. This is Devadatta, my closest companion.” Arinjay said petting his beautiful white steed’s nose. The horse responded with a contented chuff as he was presented.

Everyone greeted the bewitching man after their own manners. Moira, however, was confused. Was this Kalki or was this yet another mediator for the elusive holy man?

“Are you this ‘Kalki’ that Mr. Ji was on about?” Sean blurted indelicately. Moira cringed though he was only giving voice to her own question. A question she would have liked to have asked herself, but with far more delicacy!

The man, Arinjay, laughed rather openly which caused Moira’s heart to sink somewhat. She had been hoping that her finding this Kalki would be as easy as simply asking the little guru where to find the man and him actually taking them directly to Kalki.

“I am called by many names, but Arinjay is the one I prefer…for now.” Arinjay said.

Moira was not happy with the answer, but she supposed that it was all she was going to get for now. Why had Swami Ji lead them to this man and why did he treat Arinjay with such deference unless this person was the one of which the swami was speaking?

“The events at Varanasi…very disturbing, yes? I saw the asura leave the Wheel Of Realities as I meditated. They flew! They flew and they did so in five auspicious directions from the Wheel. I sense they are here to watch for something or to prevent something from happening. They are evil. I can sense this. I have felt something evil coming for a time now. A…pressure on our frame of reference - a thinning of the veil between realities.” Arinjay said as if in passing. His knowledge of the situation mightily concerned Joraan. Who was this person that he should know of these things?

“Asura?” Joraan asked to further test the true knowledge of this seeming prophet.

“Beings who have bound themselves away from Dharma, beings of chaos and destruction inimical to the right ordering of the universe.” Arinjay said as he began leading them back to the little bungalow.

Joraan had rarely heard a better description of the Fey. ‘Asura’ must be a name for them in the Hindu understanding of such things. He was unfamiliar with the term Dharma, however.

“Dharma?” Joraan asked with genuine curiosity this time.

“The Right Order of the Universe, Joraan son of Ser.” Arinjay spoke Joraan’s full appellation as if he had always known it.

Joraan snarled, stopped, and entered into a battle-stance! Throwing back his hood to reveal his true nature, he ground out through gritted teeth, “How do you dare speak the name of my departed father when you are not inside my confidence! Who are you really?”

“I am as you see before you, Great Survivor. I am Arinjay and to me has been given that which I need to know. It is by the will of Vishnu that I am given to know these things. I am not your enemy. I am, in fact, the ally you have been looking for!” Arinjay said with a gentle smile completely unfazed by Joraan’s alien nature or his belligerence.

“… and what else does ‘Arinjay’ know? Perhaps, he knows of us through his queen! Perhaps, he knows because she sent him here through a split in the veil! One from which he passed through only a short time ago!” Joraan persisted.

The insinuation was clear. Joraan’s accusation, though, implied his belief that the Fey must have the ability to shape-change! That sent a cascading chill down Moira’s spine! How could they fight an enemy that could take whatever form they wanted? They would be impossible to ferret out and the damage they could do, though slow and erosive, might be worse than the full on apocalypse they all feared was coming.

“If that is your belief, Little One, then have at me! I am unarmed. What harm would it do to kill one lowly farmer to be sure that you destroy a possible enemy?” Arinjay mirrored Joraan’s battle stance like a practiced warrior would. This immediately threw suspicion on the dashing Indian farmer, in Sean’s eyes. Would a simple farmer be practiced in martial arts? Sean supposed it could be possible, but unlikely.

Moira was about to break up this latest madness brought by Joraan’s paranoiac temper when Sean restrained her by her shoulder almost like he was reading her mind.

“No, let’s see how this plays out. Maybe, we should be trustin’ Joraan’s instincts on this! He knows better than anyone how devious these Fey can be.” Sean whispered.

“But, I just can’t be standin’ aside when Joraan is about to kill a possibly innocent man!” Moira spoke her concern with a whisper of her own. But, in the fraction of the time it took for them to debate the situation, the drama was already playing out.

Joraan, twirling the Claíomh Solais glaive in his hand, leapt at Arinjay with his inhuman speed and agility. The attack should have been unavoidable by any normal man, but, disturbingly, Arinjay was able to deftly dodge the attack by merely squatting and leaning away from Joraan’s line of attack. Moira identified it as a yogic move of incredible flexibility and dexterity. It maximised conservation of movement in such a way as to counter Joraan’s cat-like speed. The reflex was obviously born of a supremely trained yogi of unparalleled ability!

Sean mentally readied himself to bear Gungnir should the ‘farmer’ finally reveal his true Feyish nature. Hector seemed likewise tensed to draw his bow as the battle entered its next melee. But, for every deft attack of Joraan’s, Arinjay had a counter-move that would cause the Sídhe’s strikes to narrowly miss the yogic farmer. However, throughout the whole ordeal, Arinjay made no move to counter-attack. He brought out no weapon nor did he prepare any counter-strike. He simply dodged Joraan’s aggression move by move. Was this a Fey simply making a fool of Joraan or was Arinjay, indeed, not Fey, but something else entirely?

“Are you not yet tired, Sahib?” Arinjay asked Joraan with a bright white smile on his swarthy face.

Joraan’s answer was a snarl and then a spectacular leap and midair summersault-spin-attack move that took everyone’s breath away…including Arinjay’s! Arinjay reached for his cheek where a thin cut had appeared. Joraan landed behind Arinjay, but left no time to rest as he immediately spun himself back at Arinjay, glaive whirling. The Claíomh Solais prepared to land its second and final blow to Arinjay’s neck, but, somehow, he caught the weapon in mid-strike. Then, with incredible deftness and strength, Arinjay wrenched the weapon out of Joraan’s hand and tossed the Sídhe prince over his head. Joraan flipped, landed in a squat, and slid to a stop facing his opponent.

Arinjay jovially hefted the weight of Joraan’s sacred weapon and then tossed it lightly to the ground between the two of them.

“A most remarkable weapon, Sahib! It has sacred power! I am impressed!” Arinjay said, the good-natured smile never leaving his face despite the rivulet of blood coming from his cut cheek.

Joraan was frozen in his squat, his green eyes burning with a cold intensity. Could he reach his weapon in time to parry his enemy’s inevitable attack or had Joraan finally been overmatched by one of Morgana’s finest warriors? No one had ever managed to wrest Claíomh Solais from Joraan’s grip before! Why didn’t this Arinjay press his attack? Was he that confident that he could mock Joraan in this way?

But, Arinjay still made no move to counter-attack. He merely stood before Joraan, hands on hips, smiling as if he were having the time of his life. To Moira, he looked for all the world, like a genie from the lamp taunting Aladdin!

That is when Joraan shifted tactics. It was a test that a Fey would pick up on immediately and for which he would be prepared. Joraan lifted a hand and, suddenly, a stone came from out of nowhere hitting Arinjay in his side. For his part, Arinjay was knocked sideways by the force of the blow and the wind was knocked out of him. He fell to his knees, clutching his side.

“Oh, Sahib! A dirty trick! You have powers beyond your amazing agility and speed!” Arinjay said with a wince and then a crooked smile as he sat himself on the dirt rubbing his bruised side.

Joraan stood from his crouch and cocked his head quizzically, staring intently at the strange farmer. It was almost like he was listening for something no one else could hear. With that Joraan shrugged his shoulders.

“Huh…” was all Joraan said as he walked easily over to retrieve his weapon to put it away.

“ ‘Huh’? ” Sean mirrored Joraan’s utterance incredulously.

“Is that it then? You nearly tear the man’s bloody head off to shout down his windpipe and then you just stop with a ‘huh’?” Sean questioned in sheer confusion.

Joraan shrugged again, still keeping his eyes fixed on Arinjay.

“He’s no Fey. He would have sensed my magic attack from a mile away if he were…unless he’s still playing us for fools!” Joraan squinted suspiciously. But, something within the inscrutable working cogs of Joraan’s mind couldn’t convince him that this person was a Fey in disguise. Joraan would know, somehow! He’d sense it! Wouldn’t he?

“No, I am honest in saying to you that I am not as you say. Whether you use Fey or Asura or whatever words you would be using to describe the evil in our midst - this I am not. I am quite the opposite, in all actuality!” Arinjay said in his lilting Punjabi accent.

“Then…are you indeed this Kalki we have been sent to find?” Moira persisted with her original question.

“I cannot presume to answer to such a name. Such a thing is sacred knowledge to be known only at the appointed time. Dire as this time is, the time of the ending of this age has yet to come! But, I can assist you in your true mission…achieving the Sudarshana Chakra of Lord Vishnu!” Arinjay spoke the name of the weapon they were sent to find as if he’d always known it! Indeed, even never having met any of the contingent before, Arinjay seemed to know exactly why they were there and why they were led to find him. It was another fated meeting and Moira hoped she’d found yet another ally in her quest to save the world from the oncoming onslaught. Arinjay also offered hope in his prophetic statement. Hope that this would not be the end of things as Moira feared if they should fail. That the Fey did not, in fact, mean ‘the ending of this age’ for mankind! This meant they would be victorious and that all their trials and adventures up to this point would not be in vain.

~

Hector thought they would be going to some grand and exotic place to find this Indian super-weapon for which Moira was looking. But, instead they ended up in the same modest temple in Sambhal where they had met the little old guru earlier. Unlike their first visit, however, this one was tinged with a bit of the strange. As Arinjay walked or rather waded through a crowd of well-wishers, his tall form seemed inundated by shorter Indian fans and worshipers.

It seemed, despite what he said of himself, that the people, at least, thought of Arinjay as some kind of holy man or Messiah figure. More than once, Hector heard from the Hindi being spoken about him the word ‘Kalki’ numerous times. Hector did not yet know the significance of that name exactly, but from the way Arinjay pushed the term off as a description for himself, Hector could only figure it was the name of someone most important to Hindus as Moira had said. Arinjay was too humble to allow himself to be called by that name.

Despite his humility, Arinjay greeted his ‘fans’ with affection, that bright white smile never leaving his darkly complected face. Hector could not but help feeling the charisma of the man. He certainly had a gently regal air about him.

Soon, they were ascending the short staircase to the front gate of the temple. The little guru, with friendly, but ardent gestures persuaded the crowd not to follow Arinjay up into the temple. He only permitted Hector’s cohort to follow Arinjay into the domed structure.

The relative quiet of the colourful chamber inside the temple was something of a shock to Hector as compared to the cacophony of the crowd outside. Around him were decorative niches inside of which were rather gaudy looking idols surrounded by various offerings. The room was scented heavily with incense and flowers pointing up the sacredness of the space. The thick woven oriental carpet felt nice under Hector’s stocking feet.

On an elevated part of the floor adorned with its own carpet, Arinjay sat and crossed his legs into the full lotus position. He bid Joraan’s cohort to sit and all complied. Joraan and M’yn crossed their legs into the lotus pose without any difficulty or stretching while the human-type people settled for just ‘Indian Style’.

“Friends, to attempt what we are about to do we must enter into a state of being outside of time. We must do this to reach out to that which embodies time and touch it. Only the most enlightened have ever achieved this level of cosmic awareness! We must do what may seem impossible, but, by the grace of Lord Vishnu such things can be made possible.” Arinjay said with a quiet smile.

“Close your eyes, my friends, and open your mind. Clear yourself of all thoughts and worries. Find the centre of yourselves while I reach out for an intervention on our behalf,” Arinjay said gently.

Everyone, including Sean to his own surprise, settled into a meditative state. In the atmosphere about them it seemed like the easiest thing. Even the strange chanting of the crowd outside seemed to work to create in Sean this rhythm of peace. He found himself slip into a state that was completely aware of his surroundings, but as relaxed as being asleep. Sean was meditating! ‘Well, will that beat all!’ - Sean allowed that stray thought.

The quiet in the room and the quiet in everyone’s mind was complete. Inside that quietness of body and mind, Moira found herself ‘falling’ into a set of strange visions that seemed hyper-real somehow. Colours existed in these visions that were more vibrant than anything she’d ever seen before! There were flashes of strange lands and stranger animals. A strange sky arched over the land casting a strange light over all. In the midst of this land was a huge mountain that towered over everything else. It was almost perfectly conical like a Burmese stupa! Atop the mountain shined a bright light that cast a pink and yellow glow upon the clouds surrounding the mountain’s summit.

Moira’s vision of this place seemed to be flitting in and out of her mind’s eye until the room was filled with a deeply resonant ‘Om’ sound! At the height of the resonance, Moira’s consciousness seemed to break away from her physical surroundings entirely! She found herself completely inside the colourful visionscape! When she saw everyone else there with her, Moira knew she’d just shifted realities! They had been transported to this surreal place where…

“We are now outside of time, my friends. Welcome to one of the lower worlds of Vaikuntha.” Arinjay said. Startlingly, the yogi’s skin had turned a deep shade of blue and his eyes shined with a strange light. Moira noticed that his smile remained bright and familiar, however.

Joraan was heady with the power he felt in this place! He felt anything could be possible here…so long as it was outside the confines of time.

“By all that’s holy! This place is bloody beyond words! Aye?” Sean sputtered.

“It is beyond anything. It is a high heaven. A place where gods dwell!” Nommo said, himself uncharacteristically moved by the kaleidoscope of beauty before him.

Viviane was speechless as she cast her vision around. Part of her wondered if Arinjay had drugged them with a psychedelic, but Merlin’s wisdom inside of her countered that suspicion. They were indeed in a place outside of time. She could feel it.

Hector was in tears! His eyes saw a beauty and his heart felt a joy he’d never known before! He found it completely amazing that such a place could exist and be reached simply by closing one’s eyes and letting one’s thought’s go! No wonder gurus seemed so happy all the time!

Only Mughamir and M’yn seemed uncomfortable. Mughamir appreciated the beauty, but if they were in a ‘high heaven’ as Nommo was saying, where was Allah? Why were they in a place where another great god was supposed to live! For that matter, what were the Egyptian gods he experienced back in his home of Cairo? Where could his faith in his One Great God exist if there were others? Perhaps, he hoped, that there was salvation for his faith in something what Nommo had said - that this was a high heaven! Also, Arinjay called this a ‘lower world’. Would not Allah exist in the Highest Heaven? Perhaps this was no more than one of His many creations as was this Vishnu.

M’yn, on the other hand, felt something torn inside of him. Tyrex within him stirred hatefully. The place burned him somehow! It was a place outside of time so much like Morgan Obris! This was but another eternal cage denying him access to the world of his birthright…Earth. This struggle was all that was needed to break M’yn’s concentration, dropping him from the altered state of consciousness that stranded him in Vaikuntha.

~

M’yn opened his eyes to find all of his ‘friends’ about him, deep in meditation…vulnerable! Tyrex wondered if this was the time to do what his mother had sent him to do. They were completely unguarded and unsuspecting. He could end this threat to Morgana’s plans right there! Tyrex used M’yn’s thumb to finger the hilt of Carnwennan. He could kill them all now and then there would be nothing to stand in Morgana’s way when she finally broke through to retake her world and scourge it of all humanity!

But, something held M’yn back. Since taking M’yn’s form, Tyrex had learned something of what it was to be alive again! He had found a freedom in this form that he lacked before in his Feyish body. He had fought together with these humans and with Joraan and had developed…feelings for them. Tyrex felt it necessary to remind his M’yn half that he wore the body built of Ser’s own flesh! M’yn was an abomination. A mockery of Joraan’s love! Morgana’s cruelest weapon against the last of the Sídhe! This was so and somehow…it broke M’yn’s heart!

M’yn’s mockery of that love was somehow coming undone! This love was turning from a mockery into a reality! M’yn was starting to feel love for this enemy he was sent to kill! Perhaps, this had started coming on when he discovered Myra was still alive and untainted! She represented a hope! A hope that Tyrex could indeed be free! That the chains of his subjugation to his mother could be broken somehow!

What treachery? What of Morgana’s ruthless assassin turning traitor against his own queen and mother? What was this madness and…?

…what was that sound?

M’yn heard the unmistakable sounds of screams and panic outside of the temple. Then shadows appeared in the frosted glass of the temple’s main chamber in which he and his friends were holed up. M’yn engaged Carnwennan‘s singular power of invisibility and vanished from sight as the shadows moved toward the doorway of the chamber.

This act caused the shadows to stop their encroachment short! They acted as if they had heard something that had frozen them in their tracks. Then they proceeded forward slowly with an obvious sense of renewed caution.

M’yn then realised that they had sensed Carnwennan‘s magic! Only Fey could be so attuned to the powers in this way! The Five had come for them, no doubt, tracking them by the magical signatures of their artefacts!

The choice was suddenly before M’yn/Tyrex: Help the Five destroy these impediments to Morgana’s plans now while the opportunity was upon him or turn on these members of Tyrex’s own kind and save his new…friends.

~

In the altered state of consciousness known as Vaikuntha, the cohort ascended the towering mountain they had seen upon entering this extraordinary place. The towering peak stood out like a beacon since it was not only the tallest feature of the land, but also because it played host to a magnificent brilliance at its summit. A brilliance that lit the clouds surrounding the summit with a rainbow of colours.

It was a brilliance that compelled Moira to come to it rather like it was calling out to her specifically. Everyone agreed that they seemed to feel the same compulsion. Aside from Arinjay’s assurance that this bright place was to be their destination, the cohort felt that they would have gone to it regardless. Such was the strength of the light’s calling to them all.

For Joraan’s part, the light had a sufficiently strong magnetic pull that it could, momentarily, distract him from his fretting over M’yn’s sudden disappearance. Arinjay had tried to assuage Joraan’s concerns by pointing out that it took a great strength of will to remain in Vaikuntha if one had not been made attuned to its specific metaphysical ‘vibration’. It could be that Lord Vishnu did not confer upon M’yn the special grace necessary to remain in Vaikuntha for long.

“Perhaps, he will serve as an ‘anchor’ to the Earthly plain of consciousness so as to allow for our quick return out of Vaikuntha.” Arinjay surmised.

“With the Lord of Preservation, all things are considered.” Arinjay said with faithful assurance.

Joraan accepted this only because he couldn’t think for himself any reason why he couldn’t sense M’yn at all anywhere about them. Usually, Joraan could sense when M’yn was anywhere about them…except if he engaged Carnwennan’s invisibility powers. Perhaps, that is what he had done. As opposed to Arinjay’s convoluted answer to the question of M’yn’s whereabouts, perhaps he had gone forward to scout ahead of them. But, if that was the case, why did M’yn not let Joraan know of his plans?

But, then again, Joraan’s compulsion to follow the light atop the mountain peak seemed to override even these concerns and the pull became stronger the nearer they came to the top.

Sean was amazed that he wasn’t the least bit fatigued by the long uphill trek. On the contrary, he felt more invigorated as they got nearer to the beautiful light shining above them. It almost seemed like the light was encouraging them as they got closer to it.

Before long and much sooner than any of them had expected, they felt the steepness of their clime level off and they found themselves surrounded by the pink mist of the illuminated cloud-bank at the mountain’s summit. The air was filled with a heady scent like the burning of the best incense ever made! The mists around them began to clear and as they parted the brilliance they had all been approaching suddenly revealed itself to them in full!

Through a sumptuously carved golden gate they could see a great temple of Hindu design rise up before them. The temple seemed to be made of crystals that shone with lights that were every colour of the rainbow! A wildly beautiful music filled the air seeming to replace the mists that had once surrounded them. It was like a chorus of hundreds of sitars matched with flutes and horns. All were supported by the resonance of drum beats in perfect rhythm.

As they passed, unchallenged, through the open golden gateway, they were treated to a lavish display of dancers streaming with pastel silks and golden flashes of vibrant costumes. Men and women, of a sort, danced together in spectacular swirls of colour and motion. They all sported blue skin and multiple arms! As the cohort approached, the dancers whisked away from them forming a corridor of sorts. All smiled at them and Moira could not help but see how absolutely beautiful in countenance every dancer was!

Their dancer-made path lead them directly to the front of the glittering temple. Before them shined a crystal-glass stairway that let up into the entrance to the temple.

“Behold, friends! The Home of the Preserver! He that is the Master of Time itself is expecting us!” Arinjay said in a kind of ecstasy, his illuminated face never turning away from the temple. With caution and reverence, the cohort mounted the glass stairs.

Hector could not but marvel at what he was seeing! Even the glory of his own gods in Greece could not match the utter beauty of this place! Each step he made cast off a shard of coloured light as he climbed the stairs! Each of his movements caused an event of lights to whirl about him as if dancing with him! It was mind-blowing!

At last they came to the top of the temple stairs and as they did they felt an invisible ‘velvet weight’ that seemed to embrace them. It was not in any way suffocating or stifling, but a warm and very inviting feeling. It invited them to kneel to the warm crystal floor which they all did…even Mughamir.

Through the velvet air a voice reverberated, seeming to come from everywhere at once: “Be welcomed my children! Behold, We have called and you have answered.”

“You have summoned Lord and I did bring them as is Your will.” Arinjay said prostrating himself.

“You have done well, Faithful One. Indeed, you have brought before Us the ones that will be the instruments for the salvation of India from those that seek to break the harmony of Eternity.” The all-surrounding voice panned away from them and came to focus on a spot atop a golden dais encrusted with every jewel known and, perhaps, ones unknown. Upon a golden cushioned platform set in the raised floor sat the most amazing being Moira had seen up until now!

Just sitting, the being was easily twelve feet in height. He sported four arms and glowing blue skin. His face was a beautiful rendering of Indian character complete with a wide reassuring smile. His bright eyes were lined with kohl and a radiant ‘third eye’ in his forehead somehow mixed with the light emanating throughout the temple. He wore a simple saffron sari and his black hair was done up in an intricate and unique style set in a golden headpiece. He looked just like many of the representative paintings and idols of Vishnu Moira had ever seen. She always thought these glorified images fanciful, but here she stood corrected!

At his right shoulder stood a similarly impressive and beautiful female being. One of her four hands rested gently upon Vishnu’s bare shoulder while another lovingly stroked the back of his head. Moira realised that this must be Lady Lakshmi, the primary consort of Lord Vishnu - a powerful goddess in her own right.

“Indeed, you were all brought here and to other ancient realms of power to find, again, the tools necessary in keeping your reality safe from that which seeks to destroy it. We, in the nether realms that oversee your time-space, are bound away from direct interference, but through your assistance we can effect Our mandate of protection and preservation.” Vishnu said, the regal smile never leaving his glowing countenance.

“Arinjay Kalki, Our expression in your current temporal reality, shall assist you in closing the doors to this latest Asuran onslaught. Be you ready to begin your long service to me, my Faithful One?” Vishnu directed his question to Arinjay.

“I am ready, my Lord! Your will…be done.” Arinjay said into the floor as he had not risen from his prostration since coming before Lord Vishnu.

“Then be bestowed upon you the very Wheel Of Time - the Sudarshana Chakra. It is Our most potent weapon. Use it in your faithfulness to Us. Return it when your dealings in this matter are through. We shall replace it with your very own weapon of Light when comes the challenge of your future tasks.” Vishnu pronounced. He then raised one of the right hands of his four arms. Upon the index finger of that one hand spun a golden disc. To Sean’s eye it was the size and shape of a frisbee, but with a large hole cut through its centre like a doughnut. Vishnu cast the spinning disc from his finger and it flew, unerringly, towards Arinjay with incredible speed.

With similarly astonishing speed, Arinjay caught the ring-disc upon his own right finger where it suddenly stopped its spinning. Hector was closest to Arinjay and observed that the disc looked more like a serrated sun-disc when its spinning was stopped. It also looked, interestingly, like some kind of gear to a large winding machine.

“Time has stopped for you, my children. This is most important for when We return you to your mortal consciousness you, Arinjay, must act in accordance with the time the Sudarshana Chakra has arrested for you! Danger is upon you all! Go you forth then…restore peace and balance to Our precious India!” With that, a flash of light emanated from Vishnu’s ‘Third Eye’ and, suddenly, they were gone from his temple atop his celestial mountain!

~

The iridescent shadows of Tyrex’s kinfolk surrounded all of the cohort within the suddenly crowded central room of the Kalki Temple. M’yn stood invisible and frozen in his ambivalence. He should let this happen. It is his mother’s will…however…

If Tyrex was here within M’yn to be the assassin to take out Joraan and his friends, then why was Morgana sending more assassins to finish a job that was supposed to be his to accomplish? Why had his mother preempted him like this? Had she lost patience with Tyrex? Should he have done the deed by now? Had he become too enmeshed in his role as M’yn to remember what was his true purpose?

His dithering was reason enough for understand Morgana’s doubt. When next they’d meet she would surely be less than forgiving of his lack of action. Would she dare destroy her own son?

Yes…easily!

Would he deserve his harsh fate?

No…clearly.

Tyrex prepared himself to do something he thought he’d never be able to do in his accursedly long life - he prepared to take out his own people! He prepared to send a message to his mother! ‘By undercutting me you betray my trust, Mother!’ Tyrex dared to think. ‘By betraying me, so I, in turn, betray you!’

M’yn invisibly rose Carnwennan to strike the first blow, but then found himself frozen for reasons entirely different from his own vacillations! Likewise, the company of Fey assassins that had encircled M’yn’s fellowship had been frozen in the midst of their attack as well. Each had been raising cruel looking barbed swords to fall upon Joraan and his companions, but now they all stood like black, moth-like statues.

Within the blink of an instant, Arinjay had awakened first, cast forth the Sudarshana Chakra, and had decapitated each of the Feyish warriors with the spinning blade. Upon the returning of the Discus Of Time to Arinjay’s right hand, the Feyish attackers had fallen to ashes about the awakening cohort.

“What the bloody hell!” Sean bellowed in fright as he saw his presumed death fall to tatters right before his eyes!

“My God…!” Moira echoed Sean’s terror at what had almost occurred.

The others sat in stunned silence as the shock of realisation of what had just about happened occurred to them. All but Joraan who was up looking around desperately hoping upon hope that the Enemy had not already claimed the first and most precious member to him!

“M’YN!” Joraan shouted in his desperation.

“Here, brother. I was readying for my attack when…something weird happened.” M’yn said as he quickly materialised right next to Joraan.

“Where were you? Where did you go? Why did you disappear when we were in Vaikuntha?” Joraan said, embracing his ‘brother’. M’yn reluctantly returned the hug.

“I fell out of ‘synch’ with everyone somehow. I woke up and was right back here again. That’s when these Feyish assassins appeared. I tried waking you all up, but to no avail! I went invisible, prepared to fight them off myself when everything just…stopped and I mean everything!” M’yn explained, showing that he was still stunned by all that had just transpired.

“What…happened to them?” M’yn wondered.

“The Sudarshana Chakra happened, by the grace of Lord Vishnu!” Arinjay said giddily with a small laugh.

“You have it then, Arinjay?” M’yn asked in pleasant surprise this time.

“Indeed he does. He is also our newest ally. An ally we needed none too soon, I fear!” Moira could finally say after recovering from her own horror and shock at what had just about happened to them.

“Indeed…it has already begun as I have said! We need to prepare for the next wave! This was only the vanguard! If these came through then others must soon follow. We must complete this quest and soon and begin mounting some kind of defence!” Joraan said direly.

“Surein’ that I’m to be agreein’ with ye, but where, on God’s Green Earth, are we to be headin’ to next, aye?” Sean, being pragmatic as always, asked.

“. . . China!” Exclaimed Viviane.