Niki's Drabble Series - Phantasie!!! (New pov-Amatya Rakshasa's pov) - Page 2

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mistofshadows thumbnail
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Posted: 9 years ago
#11

Originally posted by: Imashkara

"The one who gives freedom from sorrow, Ashok."

Best dialogue ever...
Really nicee...
Loved it...🤗


Thanks a lot. 😛
I am so frustrated by the tracks that I thought to touch on some brilliant moments of the past.


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Posted: 9 years ago
#12


THE FATAL ATTACK OF THE SHIELD


He stared at the burning pyre of his mentor in utter shock and pain, his mother holding him strong.

Months later, he stood staring at the burning pyre of his mother, numb and shattered, and all alone.

Fate is predestined, his mother used to say. A small part of his brain still functioning under the blanket of overwhelming pain and denial, wondered how fate justified making a child an orphan.

For an orphan he was!

All his life he had enveloped himself in the solid and strong warmth of his mother, the gentle guiding hand of his mentor and thrived under the security of his grandfather. Months ago that guiding light that kept him afloat when disappointments and fears tried to drown him, disappeared. His very safety and security turned out to be bloodthirsty of another's life, put down and locked away like an animal, by the very father who was just a name in his life and nothing more.

And today his cocooning warmth was snatched away.

The most heart wrenching fact was perhaps this, that the one responsible for all, in a way, was the one person he had trusted the most. The one whom he had counted on, with whom he had shared his deepest secrets and the one who had always managed to make him feel like he mattered.

All his life he had struggled to keep up with his mother's expectations to shine in front of his largely absentee father but failing spectacularly only to find his eldest brother gaining the spotlight.

His eldest brother. A rush of fury at the injustice of being robbed of his share of love from his father spread in him. Always he had captured the attention of their father and the ministers who would harp on about the valiant Rajkumar Sushim. Even the maids would sing his songs despite the fact that they were his favourite playthings.

Brave, brilliant Rajkumar Sushim. And he was Rajkumar Siamak, the Khurasani heir.

In the past it had rattled him deeply why he was always titled that, and not the son of the Samrat of Magadh.

Now he knew it. For in Magadh there was a clear cut rule - 'Once a foreigner, always a foreigner'.

And so with his birth itself positioning him in a darker light, Sushim grew in fame. The attention, the best of gifts and the choicest of companions went to him.

So it was a welcome change when he came to the picture. He was a commoner, but blazed like the sun. He came like a whirlwind and enraptured the attention of his father and the ministers. The change had begun the moment the two clashing ideals had met each other and the next second the battle lines had been drawn.

Siamak justifiably had been awed by that strong willed commoner. His morals and values, his kindness, his charisma, his fearlessness at the face of the direst of all circumstances, his devotion to the motherland, had steadily but surely devoured the flimsy facade of goodness the eldest son of the Samrat wore earning the spoilt prince's envy and at the same time the trust and favour of the Samrat.

However the best thing was when he chose the neglected prince instead of the more obvious choice.

Siamak had got himself a unique friend and the intensity of this new camaraderie had made him feel successful and content. His new friend was everything he had wanted to be, aspired to be.

He had dreamt that he was just like his new friend and it was him his father looked at proudly and presented the Sword of Samrat Chandragupt declaring him the Maha Yoddha of Magadh.

For a brief amount of time he had been happy. His new companion was not only an able friend but also a shield that clashed with any trying to wound him the slightest.

He had felt that life was finally balancing for his miserable childhood.

Unfortunately fate apparently had it for him.

The shield itself had become the enemy. His protector had turned around and wounded him so deep that the sharp pain at the betrayal ran through him like a river of molten lava.

And this gave him strength.

As Rajmata Helena had said, shields that injure rather than protect should be destroyed.

And so he shall. Destroy his armour layer by layer.

Edited by mistofshadows - 9 years ago
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Posted: 9 years ago
#13
Me first...😛
Hmmm nice prov about siyamak
I really feeling bad this character...
Everyone Beteryad him...
And raj mata helena always positioning his mind...
Bechara...But this one is nice, superb 👍🏼
Edited by Imashkara - 9 years ago
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Posted: 9 years ago
#14
Brilliantly written Nikki. You made Siyamak's ridiculous transformation in CAS look logical. That's the biggest compliment I can give you. 😆

It's a shame how Siyamak has been ruined. Such a promising character he was. Oh well...🥱
Edited by babur1527 - 9 years ago
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Posted: 9 years ago
#15

Originally posted by: Imashkara

Me first...😛

Hmmm nice prov about siyamak
I really feeling bad this character...
Everyone Beteryad him...
And raj mata helena always positioning his mind...
Bechara...But this one is nice, superb 👍🏼



Thanks a lot 😊

Your review and opinion means a lot!
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Posted: 9 years ago
#16

Originally posted by: babur1527

Brilliantly written Nikki. You made Siyamak's ridiculous transformation in CAS look logical. That's the biggest compliment I can give you. 😆


It's a shame how Siyamak has been ruined. Such a promising character he was. Oh well...🥱



Thanks a lot for the compliment.
Siamak...🤢
I had such expectations from him😭
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Posted: 9 years ago
#17


HATRED




Chandragupta Maurya.

That name pierced his chest like a sharp sword heated on molten lava. The pain and loathing that name brought in him at the present was not comparable to the hate he had reared for that man in the past.

Before, Chandragupta was an opponent, an enemy he had to destroy, an upstart with no proper guidance or lineage. He, Emperor Seleucus Nicator had been sure of his win.

Of course The Fates had to play with him and he had lost not only the battle but also had to sacrifice his greatest treasure for his kingdom. The treasure he had always prided himself on - his daughter Helena.

His hated enemy had become his daughter's husband and there was nothing he could do about it. And so he played his role of an ideal father-in-law, smiling at his son-in-law when all he wanted was to run a sword through his skull.

Years had passed since that disastrous folly of his. His daughter sold to her captive had given borne him an heir who was of course overlooked by that bloodhound Chanakya when it came to succession. And Bindusar became the Samrat of Magadh.

As he stood staring at the laughing Bindusar, a fissure of spite erupted in him.

Bindusar was lesser than a shadow of his father. No matter how much he hated Chandragupta, no matter how much he had laughed and enjoyed at his death, Nicator knew that somewhere in the deepest corner of his heart, he had respected his valour, his sharp mind and the determination he had carried.

Bindusar, no doubt was a good warrior, in fact an excellent one but he very well lacked the sharp edge his sire had. Bindusar lacked both the spine and intuitiveness of his father and adding to that his blind trust on his step-mother Helena, Nicator had successfully managed to seep in his influence following Chanakya's exile.

And with that followed multiple attempts on that oblivious King's life which of course failed spectacularly. He had worshipped Nemesis for her grace on him to succeed but alas Bindusar lived to leave his legacy to his children. His three sons.

Sushim, the eldest and perhaps the most emotional one despite what he might try to portray. His fatal flaw was his anger which coupled with his addiction to alcohol; Nicator knew would one day take him down with it.

Siamak, the Khurasani heir was another thorn on his side. Mir Khurasan's grandson, he had all the protection of his grandfather and with Justin being sweet on the boy's mother, removing him from the picture was going to be complicated. Heh! Justin thought he was being smart hiding his affections for Noor and distaste for Agnishikha but Nicator could very well see what others could not.

His grandson, despite what he had wanted him to be like, was on the same rank as Bindusar was to his father, a disappointment. Helena's mothering which he was sure was filled with internal strife and lack of paternal influence had shaped Justin to a third of his potential. He was, Nicator contemplated, a kind hearted cowardly ambitious fool who wore his heart on his sleeve.

And then the youngest son of Bindusar, Dhrupad. He was perhaps the easiest to kill.

And that brought him to his reason for remembering his eternal rival suddenly.

His eyes drifted to the companion of the Samrat. Immediately at the sight of those commoner rags adorning that strong build, his uneasiness increased tenfold.

Nicator harrumphed with annoyance and no less frustration. That boy barely into his adulthood had managed to twist him into such a conundrum that he had started second guessing all his plans.

Ashok, son of the dead healer Subhadrangi.

He frowned.

There was something about the boy. Ordinary commoner he may be but he had managed to catch the attention of all the royals the moment he had stepped in Pataliputra and some even before so.

His spies had kept him well - informed.

Nicator had at first ignored him as one of those poor idiots to take the fall of one his daughter's devious schemes, but surprisingly the boy wiggled out of the trap aided by none other than Chanakya who with Bindusar's wounded visage had decidedly crawled back up to his position of authority sharply demeaning Helena's and thereby his.

Piqued he had kept an eye on the drama going on and had discovered Sushim's extreme jealousy bordering on hatred and Siamak's unique devotion for the commoner, the supposed Vannraj, a King in rags.

Bindusar's attachment to the boy had already made him a target but it was Chanakya's fondness for the boy that had troubled him. His daughter had been sure that it was Chanakya's intention to uproot Mauryavansh in favour of another Commoner King.

Nicator however had not been so sure.

It was meeting the boy face to face that morning that cleared many things.

He had already come to the conclusion that Chanakya had no motive to uproot Mauryavansh than to allow Greeks on the throne. No his motive and intentions ran deeper and it was one look at the boy that made him understand how far Chanakya's plans and manipulations grew.

It were his eyes.

That curious shade of amber that would remain dull in normal circumstances but would burst into flames of rage when provoked.

That shade was very familiar to him.

For those eyes were the ones that haunted his sleep, repeatedly reminding him of his defeat and the price he had paid for it.

The eyes of Chandragupta Maurya.

And therein laid the question. Who was the boy who carried himself with the presence of royalty and had the eyes of the dead Samrat?

Movement met the periphery of his eyes. Adorned in white Chanakya came to his line of sight.

Nicator's eyes narrowed. What was the link he was missing?

Edited by mistofshadows - 9 years ago
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Posted: 9 years ago
#18
By far your best chapter to date. I think I read it five times already. You make Nicator come off as a bitter king who has been wronged, unlike the CVs who make him look like a homeless stooge. 😆
Yeah, shame about what happened to Siyamak...😔

Loved every second of reading it Niki. Do continue. I based my OS's Bindusar off your one. 😊
Edited by babur1527 - 9 years ago
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Posted: 9 years ago
#19

Originally posted by: babur1527

By far your best chapter to date. I think I read it five times already. You make Nicator come off as a bitter king who has been wronged, unlike the CVs who make him look like a homeless stooge. 😆

Yeah, shame about what happened to Siyamak...😔

Loved every second of reading it Niki. Do continue. I based my OS's Bindusar off your one. 😊



😳

Thanks a lot for your compliment. If I could make someone read my writings five times, that's a success for me.
As for Nicator, he was a sudden choice. I was actually about to write about Sushim or Chanakya but suddenly my mind diverted and I started to think about Chandragupta Maurya which led me to Nicator.
As for the show, the portrayal of Nicator was another thing they disappointed me on🤢

And Bindusar...thanks a lot for the compliment. I am glad I could be of some help to you. Hope you get more ideas and churn out more chapters😉
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Posted: 9 years ago
#20

DESTRUCTION


Saam Daam Dand Bhed!

Who else can know the meaning of these four words better than him?

These four terms after all were the reason he was here today.

Amatya Rakshasa took a deep breath, the cool wind granting him an equal measure of relief and pain. How well does life play its irony!

And of course the puppeteer whose hands had pulled his strings - Chanakya. The very reason for his existence of anguish, the death of an enemy he had longed for with such intensity bordering on near insanity, that this obsession had kept him alive at the direst of all situations and circumstances.

And now he was dead. That genius mind had left the world. The embodiment of everything that was shrewd, cruel, manipulative and calculative had departed to the heaven of souls. Though personally it did give him great pleasure in dreaming that, that man had ended up in the gallows of Patal Lok.

The wind blew harder.

It was astonishing how much you realize the worth of being able to make use of your senses only after you are deprived from them. Days, months, perhaps years...he didn't know how long Chanakya had imprisoned him in those death tunnels of his which had been his special creations for dual purposes. A last resort of escape as well as a foolproof prison for enemies, Chanakya didn't want the Samrat to know.

Rakshasa gritted his teeth. He had been bound, chained like a dog; eyes tied shut, herded to one place to another like cattle, dead to the world. And Chanakya, he hadn't even bothered to come and gloat. No he had sent his disciple to threaten him. Acharya Radhagupt, who was like a son to Chanakya.

Immediately a cloud of utter despair and hopelessness enveloped him. Son. His little son and his wife, mere casualty of Chanakya's master plan.

His smiling visage swam in front of his eyes. Those small innocent orbs looking at him in awe and love, needling him for a new toy. Her quiet laughter and those beautiful eyes always bowed before him in utter respect and adoration. They had been so happy. The most affluent family after the King's. Amatya Rakshas's perfect little family, the only ones he had loved without any selfish gain.

And then he came.

The upstart commoner who snatched the Kingdom and sat upon the throne aided by none other than Kautilya. A more dangerous or obsessive man he had never met, one who, to avenge his insult overthrew a dynasty.

He had always wondered whether Bindusara could comprehend what Chanakya was actually capable of and how high was his reach. One wrong step by Bindusara and the Mauryan Dynasty would have been a pebblestone on the arc of history.

And this was what had always confused him.

One of Chanakya's most important characters was that he neither forgives nor he forgets, especially acts against his values and his person.

So why hadn't he taken any action for all those troubles he had to face due to the Maurya's who tried their level best to blemish his reputation and even tried to have him killed so many times. If he could destroy a dynasty for his insult, he could very well uproot another for their attempt on his life. Why hadn't he?

After Parvataka had died, and Malayaketu had changed sides to aid him, Chanakya had hatched a plot so convoluted, twisted and poisonous that it had cost him everything. Fooled that he was, Chanakya had used him favourite Saam Daam Dand Bhed technique to destroy him for trying to attempt his revenge on Chandragupta Maurya.

His lips quirked to a bitter smile.

Saam - plan and plot to isolate the enemy

This phase needed knowledge of the enemy's surroundings. Chanakya had used his infinite means of acquiring useful information in creating a rift between himself and Malayaketu. No alliance can be based on mistrust and so theirs had been too torn to shreds by the poisonous beads of suspicion.

Daam - bribe the enemy by exploiting their fatal flaw

This phase needed the knowledge of the flaws in the enemy. Chanakya knew him well too. And knew his worth even better Chankaya very well understood his greed; his lust for power. And this he had made use of to lure him into the trap which had then looked like a gifted Utopia.

Dand - punish the enemy, break their spirit

This phase needed the knowledge of human limits. And then the illusion had broken. All pieces had fallen to their places and the truth had emerged out at the cost of his pride, his dignity and his self.

Bhed - pierce the enemy through the shield by exploiting their weakness

This phase needed the knowledge of the weaknesses of the enemy. Chanakya had found out about his pregnant wife and son he had been unable to take with him when he had fled Pataliputra. His dearest friend Chandanadasa thrown in prison and the news of his impending death by hanging had brought him back to Pataliputra. And surprisingly he had been made the Amatya.

Much later he had realized the golden cage he was trapped in and by then his usefulness had been curbed. Flicked away like an unwanted fly, his dreams, wishes, everything had been snatched away from him and destroyed.

Years later well versed on Chanakya's behaviour he had wondered on the lack of repercussion on the clandestine amateur attacks by Bindusar's family on Chanakya. Why didn't he put another puppet in Bindusara's place. After all the son was not at all his sire's pride and was as sharp as a dulled sword dipped for days in lemon water.

And all these answers were clear as daylight today.

That conniving fox hadn't reacted harshly for he had already hunted and caught the worthy successor for the throne and his prey was completely under his control, brainwashed to sing the greatness of Acharya Chanakya.

Ashok Maurya.

Ashok! It was funny how this very name had such a big influence in his life. The need to remove this very weed had made Emperor Nicator search for him and grant him safe passage to Pataliputra. His brilliant web had been shred to pieces by both this boy and Chanakya and he had got caught and pitilessly tortured.

He doubted Ashok would remain so staunch in marvelling and worshipping Chanakya if he knew the extent of retribution he could promote to reach his goal. That little boy knew only the benevolent old man who had kept his mother safe, saved him from all troubles and guided him as a mentor. He was oblivious to the darker side of that man adorned in white, the side which emitted death and destruction for anyone who stood in his way.

But alas, life had managed to surprise him again.

The puppeteer had lost control of his strings.

Chanakya was dead and he still had an important mission to fulfil.

The destruction of Mauryavansh and the first target - Rajkumar Ashok Maurya.

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