As Rudra looked up, he saw a stream of black smoke rising from a spot not far from there. Rudra immediately jumped down the platform and climbed on a little higher spot to notice that the smoke rose from a few wooden huts not far from there.
Rudra's eyes shone with excitement as he got into a run towards them. Later he came onto the trail that led to those huts, and as he neared them, he noticed a wooden poll. Half burned, it was lying on the way. Rudra got around it.
Rudra spotted even more wooden as he reached closer. It was an entire cluster of wooden huts out of which most were burned to ashes, and the other half burned ones crumbled to pieces and ruins. Those burned wooden huts were the once releasing dark black smoke in the atmosphere, that from far away looked like a stream of smoke to him.
It seemed like a village which was burnt down by the same fire that scorched the forest before it. The village wasn't empty. There were still some people who knelt down by their houses and screamed in agony as their cries echoed through.
Some people also went by to and fro, helping the ones in need, rescuing people buried beneath the debris unleashed from the destruction, and even treating some people's injury. As Rudra entered the village and passed by a few people, he began to hear some gossip about him.
"Hey! Doesn't that guy look like a warrior!", a person said to the one treating his injury as he at Rudra.
"Yeah! But he doesn't looks like he belongs here."
"He has a severe injury in his right thigh!"
Avoiding whatever they said, Rudra kept walking, absorbing everything with his eyes. At last, he decided to visit one of the people treating the other villagers.
"Can you tell me what happened here?" Rudra asked as he approached that guy.
"You are severely injured, come here," that guy said as he pulled Rudra down and began to open the leaf wrapped around his injury.
"How did you get such a wound?" that guy asked as he looked how deep that I jury went into his thigh.
"I was fighting a mystical beast!"
"Oh! That explains it!" that guy said as he looked at the resin that was applied at the Openinigs of the wound.
"This is Vanshul resin! And you had also used the Vaidrik leaves, are you a physician too!" that guy asked in amazement.
"Yes," Rudra agreed as he didn't want anyone to know that he was a saint right now.
"Now, will you mind telling me who caused all of this!" Rudra asked again.
"Yeah…" that guy sighed as he continued. "It was some mercenaries, who attacked this village after ravaging some nearby ones…."
Rudra sighed as he looked that guy mix a herbal devotion in water and use it to cleanse his wound. At the beginning a searing pain flared in his thigh as the decoction was poured on the wound, he withstood the pain. Later, the cleansing was over.
"Your wound is very large and deep, it might need suturing and internal medicines for healing." That guy said as he searched his backpack and took out a flask full of some pills. "These are some pills which will reduce your pain and increase recovery for a period of time. Eat each pill every once in a while.
"Where as for suturing and internal medicines, you should look for a saint who could help you with that."
That guy then applied a herbal poultice and Vanshul on Rudra's wound and wrapped it with a strip of cloth and then a Vaidrik leaf tightly. That guy went over to a screaming child whereas Rudra sat there for a while relaxing the muscles in his thigh.
Rudra was still hearing distant cries of people, while two more people were treating the wounded. Rudra stood up carefully and walked towards the second physician who was treating a woman. Tears streamed down her face, she was crying continuously for so long.
"Please, this is for your own good, you haven't eaten anything, at least take this pill," he held a pill in his hand as said.
"They killed all my Sheeps…. And my only child," she mumbled as she burst into tears and fell to the ground.
As soon as Rudra heard this, a sudden feeling of sadness took over him. He then heard the yelling of a few men, who trying to clear the village path by removing a few ruins. Rudra went over to them, thinking he could get a little more information.
"Hey, you come over here, help us lift this," one of them said.
Rudra grabbed that huge piece of wooden slab and helped them toss it aside, clearing the path which was completely blocked. A few men instantly ran forward to check the other houses ahead, whereas some stayed behind.
"You don't look like you belong from this village or somewhere nearby? Where are you from?" one of them asked.
"Could it be that he is one of those mercenaries." The second one said as he pulled out his sword.
"Calm down, he doesn't seem like one of them!" the first man said as he stopped the second one. "They wore black masks, and a special black cloak which had a special pattern on its back."
"So, where are you from?" the other guy asked.
Rudra was about to say when he suddenly realized. 'Should I tell him the name of my city?
'These people couldn't have any links with those targeting my clan. Maybe I shouldn't wary them.'
"Kashvyagiri!"
As soon as they heard this name, shocked expressions appeared on their faces, "So, you are from the Kashvyagiri city that was ravaged by beasts recently."
Rudra hadn't expected the fire of this news to spread through the forest at such speed, but the fact was it was true and couldn't be denied. But before he could say something further, another voice chimed in that echoed from a distance, calling the people standing in front of him.
"Hey, the blacksmith is calling the two of you! He says it's urgent!"
The two of them ran from where that sound came.
'A blacksmith!' Rudra thought as he looked at his rusty dagger.
'Maybe I can ask him for a weapon!'
Rudra could clearly hear the sound of hammering A metal and the buzzing of the little crowd as he approached the smithy. Tucked between two half-collapsed huts the smithy looked scarred but alive. The thatched roof was partly singed, allowing streaks of sunlight pour through on the soot streaked floor. One of its walls had carved in, but the forge still seemed to burn, it's embers glowing like stars in the bed of ash.
The smithy was radiating a lot of heat as dark black smoke raised from its chimneys towards the sky, and with time the sound hammering was getting even more intense. The hammering came to a sudden stop. as the little group of men walked out of the smithy with sword sin their hands, their faces looked content, with a spark of excitement in their eyes as they began to discuss with each other.
Rudra entered the smithy as the ash streaked wooden floor creaked with his steps. He saw a young boy, similar to his age receive a brand new sword, with sharp and clean blade, it's edges shone under the little sunlight that crept within the smithy.
The air reeked of iron, smoke and sweat. Despite the chaos around, the blacksmith stood bare-chested, his muscles were shining with soot and strain. The young one passed Rudra as they both shared a glance for a split second.
The blacksmith glared at Rudra with squinted eyes. " You are not someone I know."
"I am from another city."
"Your eyes convey that you have suffered from a loss as me," the blacksmith said as he picked up an incomplete iron sword, it's blade looked sharp and clean, shining under the blaze of the dazzling fire that burnt in the chimney.
"Those mercenaries….. beasts, killed my brother ruthlessly, he was crafting this sword with his own hands, it was meant to be a masterpiece, but unfortunately, he couldn't.
"Therefore now I will complete his project. That's the only thing I have left to do now, for the rest of the swords, I will give them up to warriors without any cost. After all this, my journey as a blacksmith will have only one goal."
The blacksmith stared into Rudra's eyes as he said: "Your journey might not end here as well."
Rudra acted out instinctively in such a situation due to the emotions that swirled in his heart "Mine has a long way to go."
The silence remained for a few seconds which was broken by Rudra "But, what is your goal now?"
"To ensure that no warrior is left bare handed, my brother was a blacksmith, but he died a warrior protecting the people. I will contribute my best in ensuring that no warrior is left down in front of such mercenaries."
The blacksmith kept the incomplete sword on a chipped and blackened anvil that stood on a block of cracked stone. Tools laid scattered around it, some broken and some buried under the rubble. The rack that once held swords and sickles now hung to the wall with only one nail. Twisted metal parts were scattered around it.
The blacksmith grabbed the last sword that leaned against the wall, stroking it gently with his fingers, he said: "This sword can be your partner!"