The Beast

Once upon a time, in a land far away, and beyond, when Gods, sprites, demons and humans still interacted in this land, there was a boy, feared by all, despised by everyone, and he was called the Beast.

Well, not everyone…

Because there was another boy, who called him Maari and a friend.

But let me take you back to the start, the day the Beast was born in this land.

It was a dark winter night, in a village whose name I can’t recall, when suddenly a crimson light flared from above the sky, warm, and landed in one of that village’s homes.

Then a baby’s cry was heard for a moment. Then death.

Next morning, a traveller passed through the land and found every human and animal dead. Then he heard the cry and found the boy in his mother’s lap. None other than the baby breathed, but the traveller, seeing the boy, couldn’t miss the sign of the Gods in his palm.

“He must have been protected by the Gods,” he thought and took the boy with him.

On his returning back home, his wife screamed, “What is this? A bastard son?”

“Look at his hand. He is the son of a God. If we take great care of him, his father will take care of us.”

The woman relaxed.

But alas, it wasn’t the divine blessing she wished for.

It was known in the lands, far and wide, that whoever drinks the blood of a Demigod, not only would they never die, but even more so, they’ll be forever young, even if they are already old.

That’s what she wished for.

On that very night, the old hag… planned to drink the baby’s blood to the very last drop.

But, instead, the night was lighted by a crimson glow and every soul in the town met their end.

The years passed. The baby grew to a boy, alone. His father told him what his name was and what he was. And the boy said he was cursed.

The incidents were by now known, and although many had their doubts, on seeing his divine mark, they feared him. Is he the Beast?

Stoned, or otherwise, was he sent away from every town he went.

He is the Beast!

There was no doubt. Not anymore!

And the boy then became a young man, and still alone, and feared by all. But truth to be told, no other village or town met its end, no matter how cruelly they threw him away.

And then…

It was a summer evening fifty years after his birth, and he was still young, when he saw a group of muggers beating up another lad.

“Leave him alone!”

They turned to him ready to attack; then saw the mark.

“The Beast!” and they ran.

And the Beast turned around to leave. He wanted though to help the lad.

“Thank you!”

The Beast froze, but didn’t turn.

“Thank you,” the lad said again. “Come here please, for I cannot.”

And the Beast did go. The muggers had broken the boy’s leg and he couldn’t stand.

“What’s your name, Friend?”

“I am the Beast.”

“Are you a beast?”

“Yes, I am.”

The boy laughed. “Then I’m safe with you!”

“Excuse me, what?”

“No real beast would ever think he is a beast, so you are a good man. I am Priyata, and who are you?”

“Maari.”

“Maari, eh? Nice to meet you, friend!”

The Beast helped Priyata take care of his leg, then took him to the town he was from. He covered his hand.

He stayed with him, till he was healed. The boy didn’t want his friend to leave.

And these were the best days of Maari’s life. Almost as if he was not a beast.

But even after Priyata could easily run, he didn’t want his friend to leave, and so Maari stayed with him for a while more.

And although he met most of the people living there, and nobody disliked him at all, the moment someone glimpsed the divine mark, the whole town commanded him to leave.

And he left.

But Priyata ran after him.

“If they choose to hate my friend, it’s like choosing to hate me. So let us go.”

And thus, the Beast was not alone.

But there lived a greedy Lord, whose fear was smaller than his hopes, who wanted to make use of the Beast to pave his way to the throne.

He sent an army against the Beast. “As powerful as he may be, he surely can’t ever kill them all.” Or so he thought.

His general was wiser though, and instead of attacking the Beast, he captured Priyata and took him to his Lord.

Then a messenger was sent to the Beast to tell him where to find his friend.

It was not at the palace of the Lord, but in a meadow a little outside of the capital.

When the Beast arrived there, the Lord’s army was also there, ready to launch the attack.

“Kill the King and I’ll spare your friend. Drive my army to victory.”

“No!”

It wasn’t the Beast who screamed this. It was his friend.

“Do as I say or, I swear to Gods, I’ll kill him and then I’ll kill you!”

“I cannot,” cried the Beast, begging his friend to forgive him. But Priyata smiled back to him.

“Worry not!”

And he was killed.

A scream came out of the Beast’s lungs while the army circled him to attack.

The boy took a long deep breath. He held it. Then he let it go.

Then calmly he spoke, low in tone, a simple word, a word so small, and everybody around him, even those who couldn’t hear his tranquil request, hurried to comply with his wish.

The birds, the animals, the plants, the insects, the sprites and the humans, all readily followed his command.

“Die.”

And all were dead.

Amongst the corpses lying on the now barren land, he crawled to reach his friend. And as he held him in his lap, gently caressing him, crying, he whispered once more.

“You see? I am a beast, after all.”

“You are not the beast,” the wind gently blew to him in the voice of his dear friend. “You are not the beast.”