Kratos felt utterly helpless. The crushing weight of his incapacity pressed down on him like a mountain he could not lift. This journey was supposed to yield answers - solutions! Yet all it had brought was waste. He was no better now than he had been months ago, back at the cottage where Rama once lived. The axe, which refused to leave his hips, felt heavier than ever as a constant reminder of his failure.
In a way, this was a unique experience for Kratos. His life had taught him that roadblocks were simply illusions. Till now, he had relied on power and force to break through roadblocks like this, and he had succeeded in every attempt (to a certain degree). That was until now. For the first time, Kratos felt the gnawing doubt that maybe force wasn't the answer. His instincts were warning him that no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he pushed, he would get nowhere. On the contrary, he would be making his life even more difficult than it already was.
A memory resurfaced, unbidden, from his past life. Kratos once crossed paths with a philosopher who dabbled in marine life and biology. He was a talkative chap who found solace in the many wonders of the sea. Oddly, though, he was not a devout follower of Poseidon. In fact, he was the exact opposite - the man practically abhorred the salacious god of the oceans and seas. Kratos did not know why the man harboured such hatred, and frankly, he did not care. The likes and dislikes of a man were of no consequence to Kratos.
While he was just a passing figure in Kratos' life, there was one thing the philosopher said that lingered with him.
"You are a shark," the philosopher declared with a cheeky sneer. "Deadly. Dangerous! Yes, that's what you are!"
Was that an insult or a compliment? At that time Kratos didn't care. He'd heard both in varying quantities and with varying frequencies. He was inoculated to them at that point. But it was what the philosopher said next that struck a chord.
"But do you know something crazy?" The man asked with a rhetorical, almost playful, intonation. "If a shark stops swimming, it dies."
The man paused, hoping for some kind of a reaction from Kratos, but all he got in return was an indifferent grunt.
"Fish breath through their gills," the man continued - undeterred by Kratos' lack of interaction - while pointing to his neck. "But not all fish can breathe normally. Sharks, for one, require a constant flow of water over their gills to function. To do that, they need to keep swimming. And if they don't, they suffocate. They die."
Once again, Kratos ignored the man.
"How long do you intend to keep running, Spartan?" The man followed up immediately after with a low whisper.
Kratos wasn't one to engage in the metaphorical and hypothetical debates of philosophers and their ilk. He was a man of action. He shouldn't have reacted. But at that moment, Kratos had punched the man's jaw and dislocated it before briskly fleeing the scene. He didn't know why he reacted so violently back then, that too to a scant few musings of a random individual.
In hindsight, Kratos reacted so violently probably because the man's analysis hit the nail on the head. The man had seen right through Kratos and laid bare the truth that he'd been avoiding subconsciously.
Kratos needed an objective. He needed to be in constant motion. That was what gave him purpose. The thing strand of rope that he was grasping onto all the way to this mountain - the faint objective of ridding the darned axe - was what motivated Kratos. All of his plans hinged on the success of this one objective.
And when that thing thread snapped, he was stuck. He realised that there was no way forward.
While he was drowning in depression in a disembodied state, Ganesh's voice pulled him back from the murky waters of his thoughts, "I may have a solution to your problem..."
Kratos' glazed gaze landed on the elephant-headed boy. The lad was looking faintly jittery with anticipation. His expression was hard to read, given that he lacked a human face, but the way his trunk twitched betrayed his eagerness.
"Well?" The boy prompted after a long pause. It seemed that he was hoping for a dialogue, but Kratos was lacking the energy to entertain the charade. "Fine! I know someone who might be able to help you. They know everything. They'll definitely have the answer you're seeking."
The boy squatted before Kratos and wiggled his eyebrows excitedly, "So, what do you say?"
Kratos let out a sigh and responded, "I am done, boy. I have no interest in these mindless games-"
The boy interjected while flailing his arms wildly, "This isn't a game. I can guarantee that this person can offer you the solution you need. In fact, I am willing to stake my entire existence on this."
The utter certainty in the boy's declaration did rouse Kratos a little. With cautiousness and a pinch of optimism, he asked, "Who is this person?"
"Not so fast!" The boy responded while crossing his arms with a sly grin. "Let us discuss the price of my assistance-"
Without waiting for the boy to finish, Kratos stood up and started to walk away.
"W-Wait!" The boy called out while scrambling after him. Given his short stature and rotund form, he was struggling to match Kratos' brisk and wide steps. "Stop! Where are you going?!"
Kratos ignored the boy's calls as his mind was already made up.
There was never a free meal in this world. Everything had a price. It was a universal fact of life, one that he had to learn from childhood. No one did anything out of the pure kindness of their hearts - altruism was a myth.
He was interested in the assistance Ganesh was offering, and he was prepared to pay the cost of getting that assistance. But his readiness was superseded by the second fact of life that Kratos had learned much later in his life, as an adult: gods could not be trusted.
People pray to the gods hoping for miracles and benefits. Why?
Altruism was a myth. And Gods were definitely not altruistic. They only acted when it was beneficial to them. What benefits could mortals offer them?
Mortals to gods were like ants to humans. What benefit could ants offer humans apart from entertainment?
'Oh, how interesting would it be to flood the ant hill with water?'
'What if I place a pinch of cane sugar near the ant-hill and immediately remove it?'
'What if I use a crystal to concentrate the rays of the sun and burn them?'
On the contrary, if a mortal had the capacity to benefit the god, they would milk the mortal to the last drop of blood, sweat and tear before tossing them aside - a husk of their former selves.
Kratos had gone through that gauntlet once. He did not have any interest in volunteering himself for it again.
"Wait!" Ganesh finally yelled, and a shimmering barrier formed in front of Kratos. This time, he wasn't so patient. With a coiled punch, the mandala blocking his path shattered. And it appeared that the forceful dispersal had resulted in backlash affecting the caster, as he heard the boy grunt and stumble.
At that moment, he took a step back as a spear landed in front of him, its shaft quivering with a dangerous twang with the force of the throw.
"What do you think you are doing?!" Murugan challenged as he stepped into view and blocked Kratos' path.
"Out of my way, boy!" Kratos growled in a low and dangerous tone.
"You expect me to let you go after hurting my brother?" The boy responded with a sneer. He held his spear and poised himself ready to attack.
"STOP!" Ganesh shouted as his voice cut through the tension. He staggered to his feet and dusted himself off before stepping between the two. "Please," he said in a pleading tone. "Just listen-"
"I'm not interested in becoming your slave, boy," Kratos snapped as his voice dripped with disdain.
The two boys exchanged a glance before chuckling in unison.
The brothers exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter. "You asked him to become your slave?" Murugan said his voice laced with amusement. "You, of all people? Now that's rich!"
Ganesh shook his head in disbelief as a smile played on his lips, "You didn't even hear me out. I don't need you to do anything of that sort. Look, you will be compensated additionally and fairly for the work I planned on asking you to do."
He placed a palm on Murugan's shoulder and asked Kratos, "What do you think of his performance? How was his spearmanship?"
Kratos pondered for a split second before saying, "Green. Predictable. Untested in true battle."
Murugan bristled, but Ganesh nodded as if pleased. "Good. I thought the same. You're familiar with the spear, aren't you?"
'As if it were a third limb,' was what Kratos wanted to say. But he simply responded with a curt nod.
"Good," Ganesh hummed again. "Okay, so it is decided. I will help you, sincerely and thoroughly, if you agree to be his teacher."
As he said this, Ganesh pushed Murugan forward.
""WHAT?!"" Both Murugan and Kratos exclaimed.
"I don't need a teacher," Murugan denied. "Let alone him! I've had teachers far better than-"
"And yet you lost," Ganesh cut in. That simple statement of fact dispersed all the wind out of Murugan's sails. He had no response.
As for Kratos, he was simply stunned. His mind was running at the speed of sound trying to identify the trap. A request, especially from a god, couldn't be this... mundane.
"So what do you say?" Ganesh asked while approaching Kratos calmly.
After a long pause, Kratos scrunched his nose and growled angrily. Failing to deduce the hidden cost, he decided to take the direct approach and blared, "What is the catch?"
"What catch?" Ganesh responded while tilting his head.
"It cannot possibly be this easy!" Kratos responded with an elevated tone.
The boy giggled and said, "First off. I think you are grossly underestimating the difficulty of being a teacher. More so, you are grossly underestimating the difficulty of teaching a student like my younger brother-"
"Hey!" Murugan exclaimed, half-embarrassed and half-offended.
Seeing the stubborn scowl on Kratos' face, Ganesh relented and sighed, "Fine! I will consider your part of the deal completed if you can get his skills with the spear to match, or exceed, your own. How does that sound?"
Kratos' gaze alternated between the enthusiastic Ganesh and reluctant Murugan.
"What about you?" Kratos asked the younger brother.
"If my brother says that you are to be my teacher, then you are my teacher," Murugan responded with a solemn look.
After another moment of thought, Kratos responded, "Fine. I agree."
Ganesh clapped in delight and hopped around in excitement. The comical sight elicited a faint smile from Kratos, but he hid it beneath his morose mien.
"You," Kratos said as he pointed at Murugan. "We meet here an hour before sunrise."
As he turned to leave, he paused and glanced back. "Does the sun even set here?"
Ganesh laughed as he fell into step beside him. "I'll explain. Come, I'll show you where you'll be staying."
___
Kratos' place of residence stood across from the barn where the monstrous bull rested. It was a simple structure, with a design echoing the architectural style of the courtyard dwelling. The single-room cottage was sparsely furnished, containing only a mattress, a cot, a low table, and a stool. It was functional and devoid of excess, much like Kratos himself.
A rather unassuming gana attended to all of Kratos' needs. Its appearance was abominable, as was typical of its kind, yet oddly tame - a rotund body with three legs, three arms, and a cluster of eyes scattered across its form. It lacked a mouth or any visible means of producing sound, rendering it silent and unobtrusive. Despite its grotesque appearance, the creature moved with quiet efficiency, its many eyes always watching, always working.
The gana managed the large pot of drinking water inside the cottage and the cleaning water near the outhouse behind the small dwelling, ensuring both were always filled. It also delivered Kratos' meals, arriving without fail at the appointed times. Its presence was neither intrusive nor demanding,
As the boy had explained, darkness began to creep in a few hours after Kratos settled in. Through habit, Kratos found himself lying on the mattress, his gaze fixed listlessly on the ceiling. The dim light of the room did little to dispel the weight of his thoughts.
He still couldn't fully process Ganesh's request. The more he thought about it, the more he realised he had underestimated the complexity of the task. At first, Kratos had resolved to draw from his own training at the agoge as a child. But this plan quickly hit a roadblock as he realised it would be ineffective in achieving the goal Ganesh had set for him.
The problem was Murugan himself. The boy was already trained and conditioned in spearmanship. To take him through the agoge's gauntlet would require unlearning what was already ingrained in the boy's muscles and memory. Kratos knew, better than most, just how difficult unlearning something could be. It meant fighting against instinct, and instinct was the bedrock of a warrior's survival. Martial arts were meant to sharpen instinct, to make split-second decisions in the heat of battle feel as natural as breathing. To undo that was to dismantle the very foundation of a fighter's skill.
The task before Kratos was akin to repairing a multi-story structure that was already near completion. If Kratos were a veteran architect, this assignment might not have been so daunting. But Kratos was far from that. He didn't even know the alpha, beta, or gamma of laying chalk to stone.
He was a warrior, not a teacher. Even the paidonomoi who had trained him in Sparta would have baulked at this challenge. They weren't teachers; they were taskmasters - simple drill instructors who moulded raw boys into hardened soldiers through repetition and discipline, not nuance and adaptation.
With frustration mounting within, Kratos leapt off the mattress and decided to go for a walk. Every path he considered led to a dead end. He hoped that a cool night air would offer some clarity.
___
Unsurprisingly, the stroll yielded nothing. He circled the entire area twice, yet no solution came to him. By the time he reached the designated meeting spot, he still hadn't the faintest idea of what to do.
Murugan arrived on time, right as the sun's rays barely peeked over the horizon. Kratos appreciated the punctuality.
The boy stood cross-armed in front of Kratos with his spear cradled between them.
"So, what do we do first, Guruji," the boy said with a flat tone, though Kratos caught a faint hint of derision in the word of address.
"We fight," Kratos declared with a low grunt. He extended his arm towards the boy. "Spear."
"This is mine," the boy said with a frown.
"Make another," Kratos growled.
The boy grumbled under his breath as the spear in his grasp duplicated itself. He then tossed the second towards Kratos, who caught it effortlessly.
Kratos weighed the spear by resting it on his open palm. He then moved it around while trying to balance it at the tip of his middle finger, gauging its centre of mass. After a few cursory inspections, he nodded appreciatively. It was a well-forged weapon.
"We will use no magic," Kratos declared. "Your objective is to land a hit on me."
The boy sneered and lunged with a warning shout. Kratos returned an equally dirty sneer and effortlessly nudged the incoming attack out of the way. "Telegraphed."
An offended expression flashed past Murugan's face before he centred himself and tried again with a low sweep. Kratos kicked the attack away and punched the boy in the face, "Telegraphed."
"HEY!" Murugan exclaimed as he massaged his jaw. "That's not fair! You can't punch someone in a spearmanship spar."
"A spar? I did not say that this was an exchange of pointers, boy," Kratos responded. "Your objective is to land a hit on me. If you come at me without commitment, you will never succeed."
Kratos could see the dismissal evident in Murugan's gaze. The boy continued his barrage. Each attack was a half-measure at best. It lacked the commitment and willingness to inflict serious harm.
Irritated, Kratos caught an overextended attack by the boy, dislodged the spear out of his grasp and grappled the boy into the ground. He then grabbed the boy's throat and started to squeeze slowly.
Murugan's eyes started to enlarge in their sockets as he started to struggle for breath. Right as the boy neared the point of losing consciousness, Kratos relented and allowed a fresh burst of air to enter his lungs with a painful wheeze.
"W-What are you doing? You could have killed me!" Murugan yelled with a raspy voice.
"I could have," Kratos responded. "Why weren't you?"
"What?" Murugan snapped back while massaging his throat.
"I told you to fight me," Kratos repeated. "Where was the fight?"
"I was-"
"You were displaying your skills!" Kratos yelled, cutting Murugan off. "I do not care for your skills. Do you fight to hurt or to show off? To hurt, maim, or kill, is the purpose of fighting. If you cannot maintain that purpose, you can never defeat me."
The boy scowled angrily before declaring, "Again!"
This time, the boy did not declare his intent to attack. But the move was still telegraphed, which allowed Kratos to dodge and return a punch.
Unlike the previous exchange, the boy ducked the retaliatory strike and launched himself, hitting Kratos square in the chest with his forehead.
"I win," Murugan declared with a dissatisfied frown.
"You are not satisfied?" Kratos asked while massaging his chest. The attack had winded him slightly, as he did not expect the boy to adapt so quickly - he had underestimated the lad.
"The victory was dishonourable," Murugan responded.
Kratos scoffed loudly and blurted out, "There is no honour in fighting. There is no honour in war. There is only victory and defeat. If you wish to pursue honour then stick to debate and diplomacy."
Seeing that the boy was still unconvinced, Kratos asked, "Do you expect the enemy to stay his hand when your back is turned?"
"Yes!" Murugan argued. "If that is part of the rules of engagement, then it must be honoured."
"What rules of engagement?" Kratos retorted in confusion. To which, the boy rolled his eyes in exhaustion.
___
"Rules of engagement?" Ganesh repeated with a quick of his brow. He put down the plate of sweet balls - laddoos - and gestured for Kratos to follow him.
After their morning session, Kratos' thoughts kept zoning in on the phrase Murugan had brought up. In the end, his curiosity got the better of him, and so he ended up asking the only other person here who was amenable to his presence and queries.
Ganesh scrambled into the room farthest from the entrance, which happened to be his study. Kratos estimated that this was probably the largest room in the dwelling. But due to the fact that it was filled with rolls of cloth and wooden tablets with writing on it, musical instruments of every kind, and food, it appeared to be the smallest of them all.
The boy dove into a mound of tablets and pulled out a long roll of cloth which he hastily folded into a neat stack.
"Do you not have 'Rules of Engagement' in warfare where you come from?" Ganesh asked as he handed a pile that was as tall as himself to Kratos.
"What rules are there to follow? Men above have conflicts of ego and those below shed blood." Kratos commented while looking at the stack with faint chagrin.
Ganesh chuckled before taking the stack off of Kratos' hands, "I think it will be easier to explain to you then. Looks like you aren't a fan of the written word."
"Warfare is complicated," Ganesh started as he found himself a seat. He handed Kratos a wooden stool and gestured for him to follow along. "Things can get out of hand very quickly. And so, to limit the damage, we establish Rules of Engagement."
"Ultimately, war of force - or Danda - should be the last resort, when peaceful negotiation - or Sama - fails. The roll I gave you earlier, over two-thirds of it talks about ways of avoiding Danda," Ganesh explained. "But that's beside the point. Let's say peace fails, and all that's left is to pick up arms and fight, what then?"
Ganesh lifted his thumb and said, "It all starts with a formal declaration of war. To fight without declaration is an act of cowardice, as it doesn't let the opponent prepare. Apart from that, there needs to be a 'just cause' for the declarations. These include protecting one's kingdom, upholding dharma or avenging a grave injustice."
He lifted his index finger and said, "There are rules regarding the engagement of non-combatants. It is forbidden to attack women, children, the elderly, or the disabled. It is forbidden to raze a town or farmland. It is forbidden to kill animals or livestock. And most important of all, it is forbidden to kill Brahmins or Priests."
He lifted his middle finger and continued, "Warriors are expected to fight opponents of equal strength and skill. Attacking unarmed opponents, using poisoned or concealed weapons, or attacking those with their backs turned is dishonourable and forbidden. "
He lifted his ring finger and said, "A surrendered or captured enemy cannot be harmed or humiliated. And those that are fallen must be treated with respect and returned for proper rites."
He lifted his little finger and said, "Wars are generally fought in daylight hours. Attacks in the nighttime are considered unethical unless absolutely necessary. The war must be engaged only in open designated areas to minimise collateral damage."
He lifted the thumb on his other hand and continued, "Divine weapons can only be used as last resort and by those with the capacity to control them with discipline, and against those who can defend against them to a certain degree."
As he was about to continue his list, Kratos interrupted him by raising his hand.
"Do you even know what war is?" Kratos asked in exasperation. "All these rules are just trying to sanitise an act that is inherently evil. There is no honour in war. There is no justice in war. There are no non-combatants or forbidden acts."
"That's why there are rules," Ganesh explained. "It is to ensure that things don't blow out of proportion."
Kratos could sense that things were about to devolve into a debate - a clash of philosophies. But this wasn't his speciality. And he really did not wish to talk.
And yet, his lips were itching to admonish the boy for his sanctimonious and immature outlook on warfare.
"War is not a game," Kratos said through his teeth. "Do you think applying rules and regulations will stop things from devolving into chaos? How many people actually follow all the rules you've listed out?"
Ganesh moaned with uncertainty and said, "Well, there is some subjectivity to the application. In the end, it depends on the circumstance. For instance, if the purpose is to quell injustice, some leeway is afforded for the side fighting against it-"
"Who defines what is just and unjust?" Kratos interjected. "The winner does. Those who win and live on to tell the tale, are the ones with the power to dictate the truth. It is easy to twist facts and place yourself on the side fighting for justice. All it takes is some well-placed lies. A tyrant can quickly become a saviour and a freedom-fighter can turn into a terrorist with a flick of an ink brush, and no one will be able to argue otherwise."
Ganesh was stuck without a response. He brought up his arm and scratched his chin as Kratos continued his argument. "War is, in and of itself, an act of injustice. To sensationalise it with rules is like... like trying to tell a river to flow upstream."
"If war is inevitably evil, then which side is right and which side isn't?" Ganesh asked curiously.
"The side that YOU believe in is in the right," Kratos answered with a scoff. "Convince yourself that what you are fighting for is righteous and accept that you are willing to do anything to assure victory. However, do not then try to fool yourself into thinking that what you are doing is just. Accept the evil that you are about to commit and its outcomes, and do not blame your opponent for it. "
"That's quite... dour. I must admit, I never thought of warfare in that manner. Then again, I have not personally participated in one, simply heard of recountings from others," Ganesh expressed in contemplation.
But then, an intrigued smile split through Ganesh's trunk as he leaned over. "From the looks of your stature and nature, I can tell that you are a veteran of many wars. Would you mind recounting your experiences from the wars you've participated in?"
At that request, Kratos stood up abruptly and exited the room and dwelling.
He had only a few more words left to spare for the day, and he was saving them for his pupil. He found Murugan practising in the fields and walked up to him.
"Do you know all the 'Rules of Engagement' in warfare?" Kratos asked the boy bluntly. Once the boy nodded in affirmation, he continued, "Find me ten records of wars where every single rule is adhered to by both sides. Bring it to me tomorrow."
With that said, he didn't wait for the boy's response and returned to his residence.