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only when a strong gust of wind blew apart the tent wings did he see the prince standing there. he seemed lifeless, as if he hadn't even the strength to lift his arms and move them away himself. the candlelight flickered and hissed. karna looked at the fire. it was burning brighter, the flame reaching higher. a sign that it would soon burn out. he realised he had forgotten to ask his servant boy to change the oil of the lamps.
duryodhana inhaled loudly and karna turned to look at him again. moonlight at his back had stretched his shadow to karna's feet, the crown of his head under the soles of karna's heels. the shadow shuddered and the man considered something for a second. as if coming to a decision, he entered the tent with a nervous rapidity in his step.
"karna," duryodhana gasped. his eyes were on karna but he appeared to not see him. "karna," he called again and his voice cracked like an adolescent boy's.
karna sat still. the umbra of duryodhana's shadow approached closer and closer to him until it swallowed him entirely. it irritated him and he wanted to shift his chair away. but then the shadow collapsed on him, and he was almost shocked at the material weight that melted on his shoulder like thick and slobbering mercury.
"karna," it called him for the final time.
"yes, crown prince?"
he felt it drip down from his shoulder, down the scars on his chest, down his belly and rest on his thigh at the edge of spilling over.
karna closed his eyes. under his eyelids, the image of the flames persisted. he squinted to get rid of it and it formed concentric rings in the blackness, rings that pulled his consciousness deeper and deeper into them. his mind buzzed with vibration and he was floating. a tiny ripple on the black waters. a nightsky without stars. a coolness slithering down his spine. the weight wrapped around his leg and kept it fixed to the ground.
the foul wind found its way into the tent again, carrying with it the acrid smell of smoke and rotten carcass. karna had long since given up mourning. but then all at once, his leg was free and duryodhana stood up in front of him. his face was twisted.
"where were you at that time today?" the question came like a blade.
karna shook his head. "i don't know what you mean."
duryodhana puckered his lips and examined him. the look of a man at a slave market, inspecting his goods to see if it was worth his coin.
"where were you," he asked again, slow and deliberate,"when that monster tore my brother into pieces?"
karna felt a dull rage splinter at the tip of his tongue but when he looked at duryodhana again, he felt nothing but pity. in place of the glorious and proud crown prince of hastinapura stood a haggling, spiteful man. his palms were empty and he would now clutch at anything that might soothe his hurting ego.
and he knew duryodhana saw his contempt for him reflect in his eyes. "answer me," he demanded nonetheless.
"i was helping kripacharya at the right wing." karna didn't know if that was correct. he didn't care. the fire crackled higher and it looked so soft and so harsh at the same time. he wanted to feel it, he wanted to hold it in his palms though it might burn him.
two heavy hands placed themselves on his shoulders, pushing him down until he was slightly bent. the shadow loomed over him, large and sprawling. "you promised me the throne, karna. what, are you planning to make this throne with my dead brothers' bones?" duryodhana looked straight into his eyes and karna saw his own face in his irises. he looked distraught, his jaw slack with exhaustion and the slow work of years of contempt. suddenly, duryodhana laughed. it was a cruel, unforgiving laugh. he moved away from karna, shaking with mirth and put a palm on his face. he pulled the skin down, distorting his features. the shadow spread all over the floor like spilled ink. what do you want, karna almost asked it.
as if it heard his thought, duryodhana lunged at him. "that's it, isn't it? a pile of my brothers' dead bodies! and me with a crown on top of it! yes? yes, karna? you'll build it for me, won't you?" he cocked his head with expectation for an answer. his eyes were diluted, insane. involuntarily, karna drew away from him. "answer me, karna, answer me!" duryodhana grinned so wide that his face seemed to split into two.
he wiped sweat off his brow. he looked up at duryodhana and hoped his face held an expression of supplication. for the first time in his life, he wanted to kneel down. he wanted that old familiar dust on his cheek, dust coating his hair. he hadn't realised how comfortable they had gotten in this little game they had been playing for decades now. and now all at once, he fell into a heap at duryodhana's feet. the ground was cold and smelled of blood. the shadow coloured his hands black. "return to your senses, crown prince," he said softly.
a pause. "get up, king of anga." the metal bracelet dug into karna's wrist.
a tear fell on his hand and burnt a hot trail down its side. karna lifted his hand before it could drop on the ground and get swallowed by the shadow.
"i told you to get up." tears were streaming wildly down duryodhana's face.
karna stood up, slowly, the shadow reluctant to let him go. the lines of duryodhana's shoulders slumped with the weight of defeat and grief. an urge pricked under karna's skin; an urge to pull him into his arms and to let him bury his entire being into his chest. but he had crossed decades with duryodhana and he had learnt better than to do that.
duryodhana stepped closer to him, his body convulsing with suppressed sobs. they were so close he felt his breath get cut off and he filled his lungs with the hot air duryodhana exhaled. there had once been a time when this alone would have made him ecstatic. from his peripheral vision, he could see the shadow stretch up the walls of the tent, making sure to stay within his sight, mocking him. there had once been a time when he wasn't haunted.
"if i survive, what will i tell my parents?" duryodhana asked him suddenly, wiping his tears. he was a boy, just a boy. he didn't wait for a reply or perhaps, he knew there won't be one at all. "ninety eight of their sons murdered in two weeks. pitamaha on his deathbed-" he chuckled darkly and ran a hand through his hair-" and dronacharya dead. akshauhinis trampled to the ground." he raised his eyes but seemed to look through karna's head, something on the wall behind him distracted him. the hair on karna's neck stood on end. someone was watching them. but when he looked back there was nothing there.
the fire sputtered and crackled, the sound loud in the silence of the tent and an ember fell on karna's wrist. he flinched at the burn and saw the prince observing him. duryodhana took his hand and studied the injury with fascination, watching the spot turn white. he looked at karna with a question. so many little games over the decades. karna nodded. duryodhana rubbed circles on it with a callused thumb. "you're the only one i have left, karna," he said tenderly and pressed a finger into the skin, not sparing the grimy sharp edge of his nail. it sent the burn spreading through karna's vein and he drew a halting breath.
karna wondered how it had come to be so. every night (how many nights now?) of this war, duryodhana would stumble into his tent, reeking of soma. he never stayed long and he said no word either and he might as well have had been one of karna's ghosts, but for the tears he left on karna's shoulder like scalding acid. he never brought it up the next morning and neither did duryodhana. night after night, he held the broken man and made him a prince again. he wondered how it had become a prerequisite to their relationship, this bareback lashing of their prides.
he felt the shadow slither down his back. "that is not correct, crown prince."
"is that so? why don't you venture to correct me then?"
"it is not my place to do so." the nail dug deeper into the soft of his muscle.
"what is your place then, king of anga?" duryodhana's face was a mask. absurdly enough, karna had forgotten that duryodhana was born a prince. and princes' faces were always masked for even when they made demands they must be exulted to nobility.
"my place is wherever you want me to be."
duryodhana let his arm go. a crescent moon had formed on the blister.
"your place has always been beside me," he said.
beside duryodhana?, karna thought to himself and a laugh escaped him. on the ground, the shadow's teeth flashed.
"and you laugh. you shun me and you laugh."
karna shook his head. "i? shun you?" and again he laughed.
"you do, karna," duryodhana said, placing a gentle hand on his cheek and holding karna's face in place to look him in the eye. "you hate me. more than anything- more than arjun even."
karna shifted his gaze away. outside, a jackal cried out.
he tasted blood inside his mouth. soft elastic tissue between his teeth. the meat reeked of bile and he chewed slowly though his stomach was hollow. a splinter of bone pricked into his gums.
karna looked up and he saw that the body was still intact. it was studying him with its dead eyes. "i wanted to hate you, duryodhana," karna told it.
he felt himself get pulled by a hand on his neck and rough lips press harshly on his. the shadow lingered around the lamp, waiting and watching with new formed eyes. it swallowed the last of the light into itself. a finger pulled open his mouth and he felt a substance get forced into his throat, working against the waves of peristalsis to be accepted. a touch dripped down heavily to his hips.
"karna?" his name. but how to answer? his throat was blocked. he would vomit if he tried to speak and he had to keep it down, keep it inside him. "karna?" he felt it settle heavily into the pits of his stomach but he wasn't nearly full.
"what do you want of me?"
"you tell me. you know me better than i do," the voice whispered into his ear. he was pulled closer to flesh, cold and clammy against his own. moonlight streamed into the tent and everything was grey. a ghost of the touch between his legs. on the walls, the shadow grew in size, eating more and more.
there was his hand, red and sticky and a weight in his mouth and when he opened his eyes, duryodhana sat beside him. swallow, he said and karna did. another piece was put in his hand, soft with fat and pus. eat more, he said. the white of his bones showed through the viscera, bloody guts and organs in disarray. but those eyes, those dead eyes. bile rose to his throat. that's no good, duryodhana laughed, i taste better than deer, karna.
he worked his jaw mechanically. duryodhana sighed heavily and threaded his fingers through his hair, his nail scratching against his scalp. desire stirred in his veins. slow like melting wax. his knees were numb. how long has he been kneeling? he felt its eyes look up at him from the ground. father, is that you? could the sun come down as a shadow?
it split into three, four, five. so many eyes. karna's throat hurt. this was not their first time but it always hurt just the same. the soreness would persist till the next day, at the base of his tongue and a place in his chest he couldn't pinpoint. somewhere along the way, he had convinced himself that this was how it was meant to be. the applause was deafening when his performance was pain. his mind fogged and he again closed his eyes.
it was all the same. nothing ever changed but the pile of bodies stacked higher and higher. in the pit of his stomach, the meat churned, burning hot and dissolving his tissues. shadows with twisted smiles. the claps rang so loud, he thought his eardrums would burst. let them burst. he had heard enough of the sounds of the world. he had chased madly after the claps, burning away like a brittle blade of an old sword and now there was nothing left for him to show for it but embers and exhaustion. he could see the shadow's open mouth. his life swallowed just as the firelight.
"karna…" duryodhana moaned softly above him. he peeled his eyes open. a slight of sheen of sweat had condensed on the prince's chest, the droplets glowing silver in the moonlight. but the shadow masked his face. dark angles on his eyes and the hollows of his cheeks. only the mouth parted in what he hoped was pleasure.
he took him deeper into his mouth and the claps grew louder. always such a violent delight in giving- ripping apart his skin himself, the sun's rays and blood dyeing the waters red. "not yet, karna," he was told and he stopped.
he made himself pliant as he got pulled up. lips crashed on his again. he opened his and kissed him back. duryodhana's skin was moist and smooth and when karna slid a hand down his spine, he felt as if he was caressing an amphibian. no bumpy scar blemished the body unlike his own. it was a prince's body after all. duryodhana kissed him harder and he choked with the lack of air. he pushed him away- a trail of spit connecting them- coughing and wiped his mouth.
thick blood coated his lips and duryodhana's. his hands were sticky, crusted with dry flaky blood and when he looked down, he saw duryodhana's entrails spread open. the shadow fit on his face, their eyes, their smiles just the same. he didn't have to be told. he knew what he had to do. he reached down and pulled and stuffed his mouth. his teeth cut through the flesh, his tongue now used to the bitterness. and when he swallowed, he saw them. a carousel on the walls. all of them cheering for him.
his hips snapped forward. watch. watch your bastard, father. he felt a heat sear through his bones, the fire licking away his body. "faster," duryodhana told him and he obeyed.
he knew how this ended. he had known from the very beginning. the tapering spiral that ended in an abyss and he had let it pull him into its currents. duryodhana pressed his nails into his hips. he was still there kneeling on the ground with unsatisfied hunger. he was looking down at the shadow that glimmered with a silver outline.
and when he finished, a heaviness settled over his limbs. something final, something breaking unfixably. he was being dragged down, deeper and deeper. a fall from grace into those cool still waters that had begun to smell of corpses lately.
he collapsed onto the prince. it will get better, he used to lie to himself. but the claps had stopped now. he felt arms encircle him, too human and too alive. a heart beating wildly inside a ribcage. the coolness spread like a scorpion's poison, the fire quenching inside his vertebrae.
it is finally over, he thought.
he rolled off of duryodhana. the bed wasn't wide enough for them both so he laid on his side, facing away from him. the shadows shifted with the flickering moonlight.
a question into the darkness: "will you mourn me?"
outside, more jackals cried together.
karna turned to face him. "i already do," he said quietly.
duryodhana looked at him and then up at the cloth. he raised his arm, counting the stars of a constellation which only he could see on the fluttering dull red of the tent.
"duryodhana?"
the man twitched nervously. karna slid a hand over his chest, pressing him down and stilling him and said, "they will find peace. let them go."
duryodhana made a sound halfway between a cry and a scoff. "i don't know if they will but i had let them go long ago."
he searched the prince's face. new creases had formed on his forehead and his cheeks were hollow. the moonlight made him look sickly and wasted but then suddenly his eyes shone bright.
"you know, karna," he raised his head on an elbow to look at him, "i always knew this war would be futile. there was this-," he paused, considering how to express himself, "-this dream. i saw it all the time when i was still in that jar. ninety nine pyres lit side by side and smoke so black it covered the sun and- and i made myself forget the image of it. memory is a strange thing."
karna shook his head. "no, it's a cruel thing." from the corner of his eye, he saw the shadow moving all over the walls, forming strange shapes with sharp edges. he sighed and said, "but there won't be a ninety nineth pyre of the kauravas."
"you do not think it was a prophecy?"
"i do not care if it was one."
duryodhana laughed. karna wondered what the shadow looked like to him, dushshasan or bheem or perhaps, both. "you will outlive me, king of anga," the prince told him.
they looked at each other silently, strangers to themselves. the seven seas seemed to be laid out in that narrow bed between them and yet, duryodhana's flesh grew thick on his skin. "forgive me," he whispered when the prince had laid flat on his back again and closed his eyes.
"what for?"
"everything."
there came no reply. just the wings of the tent flapping in the wind and the shadows dancing wildly with it. he watched it, transfixed. father, he wanted to call out. but it was cold and his mouth was sore. duryodhana had fallen asleep. his chest rose and fell like the tides of the river on a full moon night.
i'll be one with you soon, he thought as he drifted away into the black waters.