The rain stopped by morning, leaving behind a silence so deep it pressed against the ears like a scream that had forgotten how to sound.
Veer stood at the edge of Somgarh, barefoot, a cloth bag tied to his back with the few things he could salvage—half a roti, a broken copper coin, and a small Shivling his mother used to pray to. He didn't look back. He had already said goodbye, not with words, but with the silence that now lived inside him like a second heart.
The hills in the distance loomed like sleeping giants, draped in mist. And somewhere beyond them, Veer believed—no, he knew—there was something waiting. A teacher. A sign. A path. Maybe even revenge.
But for now, there was only the road.
And the road had no name.
He walked for hours.
The jungle swallowed him quickly. The old path from Somgarh was broken by roots and overgrown vines, but Veer pressed on, guided by nothing but instinct. Birds chirped warily overhead, and somewhere deep in the underbrush, a predator watched—but none approached. It was as if the jungle sensed something in him. Something unspoken.
> [System Update...]
[Wordcraft Cooldown: 17 hours]
[Physical Condition: Weakened | Hunger Rising]
[Spiritual Resonance: Faint]
[Nearby Temple: Detected | Distance: 4 km]
A flicker of energy pulsed in his chest. The moment the message appeared in his mind, he felt it—the tug of something old and sacred in the air, like incense carried on the wind.
His legs moved faster.
By twilight, Veer stumbled into a clearing where an ancient stone temple stood half-swallowed by nature. Moss covered its pillars, and vines wrapped around the weather-worn statue of Nandi, Shiva's bull, who stood at the gates like a silent guardian.
The temple was abandoned, but not empty.
An old man sat inside, cross-legged before a crumbling altar, eyes closed in deep meditation. Long matted hair, a wooden staff beside him, and a faint aura of power Veer couldn't describe.
Veer stepped closer, the air growing colder.
The man opened his eyes.
They were white—completely white, like milk—but focused.
"I've been waiting," he said.
Veer blinked. "You... know me?"
"No," the old man said. "But He does."
He looked past Veer—no, through him—as if seeing something hidden beneath his skin.
"You carry a flame not lit by man. Words bound by the divine. You are not ready to wield them. Not yet."
"I want to learn," Veer said quickly. "I have no one left."
The old man studied him for a moment, then motioned to sit.
"Good. The fire that burns from loss either devours the soul—or purifies it."
Veer lowered himself slowly.
The old man placed a cold hand on Veer's head and muttered a short prayer:
"Mahadev, give this child not strength of body, but of truth. Let his tongue be your blade."
> [Spiritual Blessing Received: Rudra's Whisper]
[Mantra Slot Unlocked]
[Daily Mantra: Namah Shivaaya (Passive – Calm Mind, +Focus)]
[System Stability: Improved]
Suddenly, Veer felt a peace he hadn't known since before the fires. His heartbeat slowed. His breath deepened. And in the distant corners of his mind, clarity took root.
Not power.
Not revenge.
Not yet.
First—understanding.
The old man smiled.
"Tomorrow," he said, "you begin your training. Not with weapons. Not with spells. But with the power of voice."
Veer nodded.
That night, for the first time in days, the boy slept—beneath the shadow of Shiva, with a name whispered into the stars:
Veer... the one who will speak the fate of kingdoms.