A Warrior's Rumble: Daughter of Time

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Fourteen times reincarnated, but still on Mission. Will she complete it this time? As on her seventeenth birthday, the clock started ticking. She was born every time when her culture and language was on the verge of dying. He was the exact opposite of her, born every time she did, only to kill her before she could do what she was born for. This time was no different. Can she evade him this time and save the essence of her Culture?

Fantasy / Adventure
Maha Ramesh
Age Rating:


200 years ago…..

She ran through the Anaimalai Forest of the Western Ghats like her very life depended on it. It did, in a manner of speaking. The animals of the forest, though recognized the threat, stayed away. They were, after all, intelligent than the humans ever gave them credit for. These intelligent beings trust their instincts more than they trust themselves, and so they recognized their instinct when it urged them to stay hidden. For something untoward was about to happen.

The girl ran, her hands clutching on to her saree, as she ran with her bare feet, not bothering about the twigs and thorns that were testing her soft feet. She had no time to feel self-pity, for she must lead her enemy deeper into the woods. The deeper she went in, the more successful she would be. It was not her first time to do this. She knew his weaknesses very well, the same way he did hers. She searched her memory to find something that she could use against him. But the more she thought about it, the more empty-handed she came up with. What could she find in the forest that could be used against him?

So she ran. As fast as her twenty years old body could afford it. She silently prayed Seyyon to give her strength a bit more. She was not an idiot to think that she could outrun him. He was faster than her. She could only imagine that he was enjoying the thrill of the hunt, as he was not upon her yet.

She forced her senses to stay alert. Not for the first time she trusted her instinct to guide her. They never let her astray. For now, the only weapon she had was his weakness for the thrill of the hunt. He thrived on it. That was why the higher beings selected him to hunt her.

She felt her body growing tired. Her strength was spent, her senses going dull, her legs were begging for a rest. She knew if she pushed herself anymore, she would spend what was left of her strength.

Looking around her, she realized that she was in a clearing. It added to her advantage. She sat down in the centre of the clearing, one leg crossed to her body and parallel to the ground, while the other was planted to the land. She shook her head and let her raven hair tumble down. She brought her really long hair to her nape and put it in a neat coil. Her left hand flat on the ground, her right hand rested on the leg that was planted on the ground. Her coal black eyes were searching the forest for that man to appear.

If she knew him as well as she thought she did, he would not let this chance to pass. And he did not disappoint her. He came as if he was a storm, and stood before her with his eyebrows high.

She tilted her head as if to ask, ‘What are you waiting for?

He stared back at her with a smirk, his eyes cold as usual. Like his heart. She was disappointed but was not surprised. Every time, he stood before her, to kill her of course, she tried to see that man who vowed to love and protect her like an older brother over five thousand years ago. But no, he was not there. She was not even sure if he was the same person.

However, deep inside, she knew it was him. The man, who promised that he would love and protect her like his little sister, was the same man standing before her. To kill her, like every time he did in the past.

At last, he spoke, in his cold mocking voice. “Aren’t you going to run any further?”

She smirked, “Did you really expect the daughter of Thamizhannai to run like a coward?”

He raised his eyebrows, his arms crossed over his chest, “Isn’t that what you were doing?”

She couldn’t contain herself any longer. She laughed, throwing her head back. “I lead you here, Thamaya. But apparently, you mistook it for cowardliness” she said, in between her laughter. Both belatedly realised that she used the term for ‘older brother’.

Though she felt uncomfortable, he didn’t seem to be affected. “Don’t think that you can bring that old Thamayan back, Thangai”, he mocked.

She closed her eyes to keep the tears from escaping, “I long since gave up hope for you. So, what are you waiting for? Let’s end it here”

“Oh we shall,” he said, as he drew his sword and charged toward her.

With one swift move, she stood up and removed her dagger from her hip that she had hidden in her person. The sword that was about to strike her was stopped by her dagger. She drew her own sword and started striking him. With every strike she started to move forward, forcing him to take equal steps back.

He managed to block her every strike, but she was desperate. To hurt him at least once. She flipped through the air and sliced her dagger a hairbreadth below his left eye. As she landed her dagger hilt still clutched to her right hand, a drop of blood rolled through its tip.

She smirked at her handy work. Her smirk grew even wider when she saw his cold face grew enraged.

With a cry of rage, he charged toward her. But she was ready for his attack and swiftly blocked him. The moment their swords clashed, she swung her right hand as the dagger cut his neck vein. Blood poured out of his person, but he still stood tall. He swung his sword to her right, but she took the opportunity to drive her sword straight into his heart.

This time he swaggered back with a look of disbelief. His sword left his hand and cluttered on the ground. His eyes that were cold just a moment ago, looked at her with such affection that she nearly reached her hand toward him.

“Mathi” he called her, for the first time in five millennia, “I am sorry”

And he dropped dead.

She stared at his body. The tears poured down her cheeks, as she dropped her dagger and sword and moved toward his dead body. She dropped to her knees, the long controlled tears released.

She didn’t know how she was supposed to feel then. On one hand, she was happy. Happy that the one person, who managed to kill her countless times was dead. That too, by her hands. For the first time in millennia, she killed him.

On the other hand, she was extremely remorseful. She had killed the one person who she loved as an older brother. The one person who had vowed to be there for her forever. Even though he failed to keep that promise, she was ready to forgive him. She was in no place to complain when she failed to keep her promise to always be there for him.

The daughter of Thamizhannai backed on her word. And she has no right to complain.

All of a sudden, all those memories she had of him were starting to resurface again. She tried all her might to keep them at bay, but it seemed that her heart was not ready to listen to her.

She dropped to her knees, her sword and dagger long since left her hands. With her trembling hands, she shook him. But his body was still, already cold from death. His blood now covered her hands. Her palms found their way to her face. Covering her face with the bloody hands, she screamed.

She screamed like it was her own life taken.

It was hell. The moment you realize, the only person you love so much was killed by your hands.

It was hell. Even beyond that.

Why, why, why???

Why was it he, her brother, who protected her, who loved her, who put himself between her and a sword five thousand years ago, has to be the one to be turned against her?


But she already had the answer. It was the curse.

That bloody curse.

She sat there like that for hours, staring at her once brother’s dead body, with tears running down her cheeks.

With a shattered breath, she stood, picking up her sword and dagger. She doesn’t have much time left. By nightfall, she would fall as well, since their lives were linked.

She turned toward the east and knelt down. She put down her sword and dagger on the ground, on her either side. She joined her hands above her head and looked at the sky. “Devi, here’s my blood. Take it, and bless me to fulfil my mission in my next birth”

She picked up her sword, stood it on the ground, in front of her, with the sharp tip facing up. She then took her dagger, without so much as a blink of an eye, slit her own throat. Her body that was losing its soul, fell straight through her sword.

Mathiyarasi, the daughter of Thamizhannai, committed Avippalli, in the name of Kottravai.

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