Ravan would not allow the enemy army another break, during which he mourned the loss of Kumbhakaran. Sure, all he wanted to do was cremate his brother and watch the flames lick the tense air and release sparking embers into the dark city of Lanka at night, he could not. Rather, he would not. Taking yet another break would be a sign of weakness. Ram and his band of bandits would think that he was growing less and less strong by the day, and while this was not entirely wrong, Ravan still didn't want to prove them right!
So they sat in his court, of the courtesans and advisers and throned warriors, way into the morning hours, in those moments before dawn they still discussed tensely, all drooping eyes quickly snapped back open. This was their honor, their family, their livelihoods and very lives they were talking about! This was their king and his happiness they were talking about! To fall asleep or to succumb to human weaknesses (though they weren't humans, they were demons who ate humans, long story, anyways) was to warrant their death, or to warrant their families'. Either way, it wasn't going to be a good outcome.
Ravan rubbed the tip of his stubbled chin. He hadn't been shaving very much in the days past, for many different reasons. One being that he was so enamoured with Sita, any moment spent not thinking about her was a moment wasted and stolen by Time. And he certainly couldn't think of Sita while trying not to cut his own face off, so that was a big no no. Another that an army of monkeys and two hermits, plus many bears were now on his land of Lanka. Ravan had always prided himself on having absolutely zero pesky, chattering, dumb monkeys in his land, and now lo and behold! The entire population of the world's monkeys had showed up instead!
The last reason was simple. Ravan's now five hundred thousand wives (he married four hundred thousand more for stress relief, keep up now!) liked him more with a rugged, stubbly look. Ravan didn't care much for the rest of his wives, there was only Sita in his mind, but then again, he reasoned. If his clean shaven look did not appeal to her, perhaps this new Western one would. What, did you people think he was not shaving because his warriors were dying? No, that didn't matter! As long as Ravan or his wives or Sita weren't dying, he was all good.
So they discussed late into the night, until finally, Trishira stood up, his eyes blazing. Trishira could be considered (other than Indrajit, of course), the leader of Ravan's sons. He had Ravan's blazing and bloodshot eyes, and that was about it. Now Trishira wasn't particularly special. He didn't chew tobacco like Devantak or have a silent, brooding, and arge personality like Atikaya, nor was he a master of the illusions like Indrajit. But what Trishira could do? Lead. He had all of Ravan's leading capabilities.
He could lead an army of his straight into the jaws of an enemy, and they would not resist, they would not stay back, they would not peel off from his formation or lose faith in him all of a sudden, or worry for themselves, their lives, or their families. If Trishira was leading them, they would run right into their deaths. Much like Ravan was leading all of his courtesans (warrior or otherwise) into theirs.
So Trishira stood up, eyes blazing as always, and so did Narantak and Atikaya. "We too are willing to fight for you father!" Narantak roared, beating his chest. Narantak was one of sheer brawn and brute force and what-not, as long as it was ruthless. But when Atikaya stood up, his silver armor glistened in the light of the lanterns. If he was tall when he sat, he was akin to Kumbhakaran when he stood up. Well maybe not that tall, or else they would have sent him and Kumbhakaran like twin tornadoes to end Ram's army and also create many cracks in the Earth along the way. Devantak still chewed his tobacco, eyes narrowed maliciously, before he hit the end of his throne and stood up too.
"I, son of Dhanyamalini, pledge full allegiance up till the very end!" he barked loudly, and Trishira bared his fangs, watching the entire scene with jealousy. Secretly, they all competed for Ravan's attention (not that it was very desirable of course, and besides, Ravan only wanted attention from Sita, which he didn't get obviously). "Not that there shall be an end!" he laughed, and even Ravan bared a smile at his son's bristly growl.
Could his sons do what his brother and general could not? Perhaps it was the time for a new generation to shine, for new warriors to be displayed in shining armor and eliminate his enemies. Ravan only knew this. If his sons could not do it, these sons, then only he and Meghnad could. Hopefully, he prayed, they could, for if they couldn't....Dhanyamalini and Mandodari would be grieving into the night, and of course, only he could pacify them. And that really wasn't good for the jealousy factor of the rest of his thousands of wives.
-----O-----
"Who do you think they'll send this time?" Vibhishan asked, his voice sounding wearier than ever. Vibhishan was always projected as a man who was old, tired, done with life though Ram knew that his life immersed in dharma had only just started. He sipped tea as if exhausted after a long day, and everyone knew it was, if long for the warriors, just as long for the leaders, even the ones who didn't fight. Especially Vibhishan, who watched everyone he grew up knowing just dying in front of him, his familial life crumbling in his eyeshot. No one quite knew what it felt like, even if family members had died.
"Aren't you supposed to know that, Yuvraj Vibhishan?" Angad asked, his eyes twinkling playfully as he grasped his mace. Ram had seen that for the past few days, the prince of Kishkindha had been under the mood, his face and voice sullen. Angad wasn't like Lakshman; he couldn't hide his emotions as well. But that day, either he had succeeded with flying colors, or he was feeling better all of a sudden. "If you don't know, then we don't either!"
Aniya, daughter of Mainda, the monkey war general, chimed in. "Unless you expect all of us to see into the future like you must do, we are but helpless to the ever heart-tugging strings of fate!" she put a hand over her heart. "Only you and your ever indispensable and priceless knowledge can save us from this impending doom! Oh, Yuvraj Vibhishan, grace us with your great smartness and oracle future sensing!" And with that, she pretended to faint.
Yuvraj Vibhishan had turned quite pink at this point, and to prevent any more stammering from this point on, he took a long sip from his cup of tea and hid his face behind it. Lakshman rolled his eyes as Ram gripped his bow tighter. "Whatever it is, I am sure Kumbhakaran was a greater threat," he assured calmly, and Ram looked up hopefully. "Besides, I doubt any of them are giants, are they?"
"Actually-" Vibhishan interrupted Lakshman's rare optimism. "Atikaya, son of Mandodari, is humongous." Jambavan palmed his face with a groan. "But not nearly so as Kumbhakaran. I'd wager he's about the size of...." Vibhishan looked around the room, waving his hand so that his tea sloshed inside the earthen mug. "Lakshman bhaiyya over there. He's the same size as him." They all turned around to where Lakshman bhaiyya stood. Well, if this Atikaya was seven freaking feet tall (the same size as Lakshman), then he was still very much a giant.
-----O-----
Dawn arrived once more, and though the armies were ready, Ram stood right at the end, almost half inside the tent. "I wonder how many more dawns we will watch before it's all over," he thought out loud. Vibhishan and Sugriv both turned around, but Hanuman had already decided to listen. "I wonder how many more lives shall be lost, big or small, young or old, near death, or far from it, before Sita is finally recovered, before I finally get my wife back and we can return to Ayodhya, safe, sound, and excited."
Ram closed his eyes, almost sealed them tight shut and exhaled a shaky breath. "I wonder how many more eternal sins Ravan will commit before I send him to the abodes of Yama, or before he decides to surrender Sita." Ram rubbed a knot in the back of his neck. "He won't surrender Sita, I know that." Hanuman slumped for a moment, about to ask the question that Ram had just unknowingly answered. "But Hanuman, a man, especially a to-be king, always has to find the best in a person."
Hanuman shrugged, thinking about this for a second. "Yes, Prabhu, you always do see the best in people." he paused. "And so I shall too!" He puffed his chest out proudly and Ram felt the sudden urge to ruffle his hair as he had Shatrughan's whenever he did some similar act. But he curled his fingers back into a fist and grasped his orange clothing quickly, squeezing his eyes shut and snapping them open once again, inhaling a deep breath that rattled his lungs. He was fine. Everything was fine.
-----O------
When the gates of Lanka burst open, the vanar sena was prepared for a few threats, maybe one or two greats invading the battlefield at once, but certainly not six. Trishira, Devantak, Narantak, Atikaya, and two more of their brothers (what, you think Ravan didn't have children with his five hundred thousand wives, get on his level would ya?), Yuddhomanta and Matha (which means head, which he soon wouldn't have one of) galloped out of the gates of Lanka, and the entire vanar sena took in a deep breath at once.
Out of these, the first main threat was Narantak, the great, mighty, and uber angry Narantak, who showered the vanars with, not rain to suffice the drought, but arrows which made the sky look like it was about to let go of such a pouring that they should all be drenched for years to come. The vanars were drenched, but drenched with their own blood, and the battlefield would be, also, for centuries.
Narantak, it appeared, was a master archer (nothing to rival Ram and Lakshman of course), but about as good as ever amongst Ravan's sons. But the vanar sena also was one of great heart. Their Prabhu Shri Ram had killed Kumbhakaran, the giant a thousand times larger than him. Who was Narantak? Well, Narantak was a killer, a very good killer, and a killer insisting upon, well, killing, which was overall bad for the monkey army who did not fancy getting killed, especially by this rakshas.
Sugriv was ambushed by a bunch of rakshasas with skin the color of midnight and stringy rags soaked with black paint, those who swung around their spiked clubs to torture their enemies before ending them with a blow (or many), to their head. Look, if Kumbhakaran could not kill the King of Kishkindha, no one could, and these rakshasas did not stand a chance. But as Sugriv fought them off with ease, his eyes hooked onto Narantak, the threat to his army's livelihood, and his eyes narrowed.
As his attackers flew into the air Devasena style, he walked up to Angad and pulled him away from the demons who were set upon troubling the crown prince. Sugriv shook Angad's shoulders to get him out of the adrenalin daze, and to get him to stop attacking Sugriv, (thinking his uncle was another large sort of demon who was slow to act). "Angad, Angad! It's me, Raja Sugriv, chaha Sugriv?" Angad finally calmed down and put his mace on his shoulder again. "Kill Narantak, this prince of Lanka who plans to kill all of these vanars with his archery."
Sugriv walked away, leaving Angad's mind still buzzing. Angad turned around and watched Narantak fight for a second, watched the arrows he unleashed pierce thousands of monkeys (not kill all, some were only injured), and snarled, his monkey-fangs suddenly showing, looking as sharp as Ravan's. He tightened his grip around the handle of his mace, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms for a second before running. And with one great leap, Angad jumped like a curse upon Narantak's chariot.
A/N-Mochi is updating again! God, I don't know what came into me! My summer vacation has finally started, and I'm starting to get lazy. Whatever, however, because I shall (try) to update daily again. Besides, for some reason, my muscles hurt a lot a few days ago, but they're fine again, so no problemmo anymore-ah!
This book is going to finish soon and I'm starting to get worried. It's at a good amount of chapters now, hopefully I don't delay upto 200. Come on, pray for me and my stupid slowburning skillz that I don't slowburn enough upto 200, where I have to cut it off dramatically. Of course, I can delete some author's notes-actually, yeah! If I reach 180 chapters, I'll just delete all the Author's notes! Perfectomundo!