One winter morning, Karna had taken a few horses to the lake to bathe them. It was early, for he wished to avoid the inquisitive, giggling washer-wives, who threw lewd suggestions at him. That day the cold had been harsh and the horses quenched their thirst cautiously. They looked ready for an uprising if Karna dared bathe them. It was then that he had seen him…on the other side of the lake, wrapped in the veils of morning mist. He had on a ragged hooded cloak, but Karna had recognized him immediately. He did not have many friends with feline eyes and silver skin.

‘Your cheeks are sunken, Karna,’ Savitre Lios had said. ‘You have not been eating well.’

Back then, the only thing Karna had known about him was that Savitre Lios was not human, which was a good thing in his mind. Karna’s interaction with humans had done little good for his view of mankind. It was for this reason, when most Mortals would have fled screaming, that Karna had stepped towards Savitre. Savitre didn’t do much but he listened to Karna, and sometimes that was all one needed-a person to reveal your demons to. Savitre was the one who had taught Karna how to use the bow, how to track the stars, how to speak High Sanskrit, the language of the upper castes – knowledge otherwise forbidden to the Reshts. But, in the midst of all this knowledge-sharing, he had forgotten to tell Karna what Savitre really was.

Beside the chilly wind-swept lake, Karna had lifted a hand. ‘It’s good to see you again, Savitre. It is you behind all those robes, is it not? It’s been what, three years?’

‘That long? Feels like I was here but hours ago. I still find it strange that I do not frighten you.’

‘Nothing frightens me,’ Karna had replied boldly.

‘That is cause of concern then, my friend. Fright is conducive to health.’ Savitre Lios’ voice had been full of mystery. ‘You look unhappy. What ails you? I thought the bow made you happy.’

Karna had asked Savitre many times why he cared what happened to a charioteer’s son? Without exception, he had received the same answer – silence. This time, he had pointed to the Resht tattoo on his neck and sighed, ‘I lost. Will try again in my next birth.’ Picking up the round brush he had resumed grooming the horses, hiding his tears in the horses’ manes.

‘That again,’ Savitre had said. ‘You do not need a teacher to be happy, Karna.’

‘I need a teacher to be the best. To be the Champion. Only by attaining that can I be happy.’

‘Trust me, there is nothing worse in the world than achieving what you want.’

‘Why won’t you teach me?’

‘You know I do not know much about weapons. The little I knew about a bow, I have taught you. And I would never teach you how to be better at violence.’