"When a promise is broken, a shadow is born. Some become ghosts. Others become hunters."
---
The forest beyond the Bone Temple was known only in whispers as Vratavan—the Forest of Vows.
Here, every leaf was inscribed with a promise. And every breeze carried the sighs of those who failed to keep them.
Asma-Ra felt them brush his skin: childhood oaths, sacred mantras, pacts sealed in desperation and broken in regret. His own promises, too, drifted among the trees like phantom ash.
> "You said you would protect them…"
"You vowed to never become like him…"
"You promised…"
He pressed forward, ignoring the voices.
That's when he saw the Hunter.
He stood tall, draped in ragged armor stitched with old scripts, his left hand severed and replaced by a blade of bone and flame. His face was wrapped in bindings that bled silently, and on his back, he bore a book—chained shut with gold.
He spoke not with his mouth, but with the weight of broken promises.
> "Asma-Ra, breaker of the Ash Oath. Have you come to fulfill it… or to flee?"
Asma-Ra narrowed his eyes.
"I never broke it."
The Hunter circled him like a wolf around fire.
> "Then why is my name still burning in your soul?"
---
The Hunter was once Agni-Dhara, Asma-Ra's closest brother-in-arms.
Once, they had fought together under the banner of the Ash Monks, vowing to protect the Tree and its sacred keepers. But when the Asuras came, when the first city burned—one of them ran, and the other was left to die.
Agni-Dhara died screaming… and rose anew. Not in life, nor in death. But in vengeance.
Bound by a ritual he etched into his own bones, he had become a Vrataveta—a Hunter of Oaths Broken.
---
The battle between them was not just of swords, but of memory.
Each strike was a question.
Each wound was an accusation.
When their blades clashed, visions burst forth:
A monk weeping at the gates.
A brother holding a dying child.
The moment Asma-Ra turned away.
But in the heat of battle, Asma-Ra did not run. He bled. He endured. And when the time came, he offered his name—his true name—as penance.
Agni-Dhara paused.
The chains of his book trembled.
> "Then let your promise be rewritten," he whispered.
And he handed the book to Asma-Ra. Inside were pages of empty vows, waiting to be inked.
> "One oath," the Hunter said. "One vow to replace the broken. Choose it wisely."
Asma-Ra placed his hand upon the parchment. And with blood, he wrote:
> "I vow to end the curse—not for power, not for peace—but for those who still dream beneath it."
The forest sighed.
The leaves turned white.
And the Hunter bowed—for the first time in centuries.
---
END OF CHAPTER XI
Next: Chapter XII – "The Dancer Beneath the Tree"