The streets of Svargaloka stretched before them like a dream made real. Marble pathways inlaid
with veins of gold shimmered under a sky alive with shifting hues of pink, blue, and violet. Spires
of crystal and light towered above, their forms so delicate and intricate that they seemed to defy
gravity.
Lava walked slowly, his wide-eyed gaze darting from one marvel to the next. “Manu,” he said, his
voice tinged with awe, “this place… it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. It’s perfect.”
Manu followed, his steps deliberate and his expression calm, though his eyes scanned their
surroundings with quiet caution. “Svargaloka is the realm of the celestials,” he said. “Its beauty
is unparalleled, but do not let it distract you. The trials here will not announce themselves—they
will reveal their nature when it is too late.”
Lava gave a dismissive wave, though he couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Relax. I mean, look
at this place. There’s no fire-breathing boars or shadow monsters here. Maybe this is the gods’
way of giving us a break.”
As they walked further, the melodic hum that filled the air seemed to grow louder, resonating in
their very bones. It wasn’t unpleasant—quite the opposite. The sound was soothing, almost
hypnotic, like a lullaby that invited them to relax and let go of their worries.
Manu paused, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword. “Do you hear that?” he
asked, his voice low.
Lava stopped, tilting his head. “Yeah. It’s… nice, actually. Like a song my mother used to hum
when I was a kid.”
Manu frowned. “Be careful, Lava. This is no ordinary music. Svargaloka tests the mind as much
as the body. Whatever you hear, do not lose yourself to it.”
Lava gave a quick nod, though his attention was already drifting back to the marvels around
them. “Got it. Don’t lose myself. Easy enough.”
As they moved deeper into the city, the air seemed to grow warmer, more inviting. The streets
were lined with fountains that sparkled like liquid diamonds, their water flowing in perfect
harmony with the hum of the realm. Golden fruit hung from trees with emerald leaves, and faint
whispers echoed through the air—soft, soothing voices that seemed to call their names.
Manu stopped again, his jaw tightening. “Do you feel that?”
Lava glanced at him, his brow furrowed. “Feel what?”
“The whispers,” Manu said. “They are… familiar.”
Before Lava could respond, a soft voice spoke, clear and unmistakable. “Manu.”
Manu froze. The voice was impossibly familiar, carrying with it the weight of years gone by. He
turned slowly, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the empty street behind them.
“Did you hear that?” he asked, his voice low.
“Hear what?” Lava replied, looking around.
Manu didn’t answer. The voice called again, more insistent this time. “Manu. Why do you
hesitate?”
He turned fully now, gripping his sword tightly. The street behind him shimmered faintly, as if the
air itself were bending. From the shimmering light emerged a figure—a woman, her form radiant
and her face achingly familiar.
“Manu,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. “You have strayed far from your path.”
Manu’s breath caught in his chest. “Devi…” he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion.
Lava, noticing the shift in Manu’s demeanor, stepped closer. “Manu, who is—”
But before he could finish, the hum in the air grew louder, and the city around them began to
shift. The marble streets warped and twisted, the golden light dimming as shadows crept in
from the edges. Lava blinked, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts.
“Manu,” he said, his voice tense. “Something’s wrong. This place—it’s messing with us.”
But Manu didn’t respond. His focus was entirely on the figure before him, his grip on his sword
slackening. “You’re… alive?” he asked, his voice trembling.
The woman smiled, her eyes filled with a gentle sorrow. “I never left, Manu. But you have
forgotten me.”
Lava stepped in front of Manu, snapping his fingers in the older man’s face. “Hey! Snap out of it!
She’s not real!”
Manu’s eyes flicked to Lava, his expression conflicted. “How can you be sure?” he said, his
voice barely above a whisper.
“Because this realm is messing with your head!” Lava shouted. “Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not
her. It’s trying to keep you here!”
Before Manu could respond, the figure of the woman extended her hand, her expression
softening. “Come with me, Manu. Leave this burden behind. There is peace here, if you choose
it.”
Manu hesitated, his hand hovering over his sword. Lava cursed under his breath, grabbing
Manu’s arm and yanking him back.
“Manu, listen to me!” Lava said. “This isn’t real. The gods didn’t send us here to get lost in some
dream. We have a mission!”
The hum in the air grew louder, almost deafening, as the figure began to fade. Manu blinked, his
grip tightening on his sword as clarity returned to his gaze.
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “This is an illusion. A trap.”
The figure gave one last mournful look before disappearing into the light. The street around them
stabilized, the golden glow returning as the hum softened.
Lava let out a breath, his shoulders slumping. “Okay, that was… unsettling.”
Manu straightened, his expression resolute. “Svargaloka tests the mind and the heart. It will prey
on our weaknesses, our desires, our regrets. We must remain vigilant.”
Lava nodded, his usual bravado dimmed but not extinguished. “Yeah. No more distractions.
Let’s just find the relic and get out of here.”
Manu placed a hand on Lava’s shoulder, his gaze steady. “Thank you, Lava. Your clarity kept me
grounded.”
Lava smirked faintly, his confidence flickering back. “Well, somebody’s gotta keep you out of
trouble.”
Together, they moved deeper into Svargaloka, the illusions of paradise still lingering at the edges
of their vision.
The marble pathway led Manu and Lava to a towering structure at the center of Svargaloka—a
grand, domed hall that shimmered like a pearl in the ethereal light. Its walls seemed to shift and
ripple like water, reflecting fragmented images of the celestial city around it.
“This looks… ominous,” Lava muttered, craning his neck to take in the structure’s impossible
height. “You think the relic’s in there?”
Manu studied the hall, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “If it is, the path to it will not be
straightforward.”
The two stepped inside, their footsteps echoing on the smooth, reflective floor. The hall was
vast, its interior lined with mirrors of varying shapes and sizes. Some were tall and narrow,
others wide and circular, their polished surfaces so perfect that they seemed to reflect not just
the body but the soul.
As they walked deeper, the air grew heavier, the faint hum of Svargaloka returning. Lava glanced
at one of the mirrors, his reflection staring back at him with an unsettling intensity. “Okay, I don’t
like this,” he said, stepping back quickly.
Manu paused beside a large, ornate mirror framed in gold. His own reflection stared back at
him, but something was off—the figure in the glass moved independently, its gaze sharper, its
expression almost accusing.
“What is this place?” Lava asked, his voice echoing slightly.
“A trial,” Manu said, his tone grave. “The mirrors reflect more than our appearances. They show
our truths, our doubts, our weaknesses. Svargaloka tests the soul as much as the body.”
Before Lava could reply, the hall shifted. The mirrors began to ripple like water, their reflections
twisting and distorting. Lava turned to face one, and his breath caught.
The image in the mirror was not his own—it was his father, Lord Rama. Dressed in his royal
armor, Rama stood tall and commanding, his expression calm yet filled with unspoken
judgment.
“Father?” Lava whispered, stepping closer.
The reflection spoke, its voice clear and strong. “Lava. You follow in my footsteps, yet you lack
the discipline to succeed. Your arrogance blinds you. Your recklessness will lead to ruin.”
Lava’s fists clenched, his heart pounding in his chest. “That’s not true,” he said, his voice
shaking. “I’m doing everything I can. I’m proving myself.”
The reflection tilted its head, its expression unchanging. “Are you? Or are you merely a shadow
of my legacy?”
“Enough!” Lava shouted, drawing his bow and firing an arrow at the mirror. The glass shattered,
the shards scattering across the floor and dissolving into mist.
“Lava!” Manu’s voice cut through the haze, pulling Lava back to reality.
Lava turned to see Manu standing in front of another mirror, his expression tight with
concentration. The glass before him showed an image of Manu sitting on a throne, his face worn
and weary. Around him, the kingdom burned, its people fleeing in terror.
“You abandoned us,” the reflection said, its voice hollow and accusing. “You left your people to
chase a fool’s errand. You call it dharma, but it is nothing more than selfishness.”
Manu’s jaw tightened, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword. “This is an illusion,” he said, his
voice firm. “The truth lies beyond what is shown.”
The reflection sneered. “You tell yourself that, but the cost of your journey grows with every step.
Your kingdom suffers in your absence. Can you still call yourself a king?”
For a moment, Manu hesitated. The weight of the reflection’s words pressed against him, heavy
and suffocating. But then he straightened, his grip on his sword steady.
“I walk the path of dharma,” Manu said. “Sacrifices must be made, but they are not in vain. My
people endure because of the dharma we protect.”
With a single strike of his flaming blade, he shattered the mirror. The shards fell around him, the
reflection’s voice fading into silence.
Lava approached, his expression uneasy. “Manu, this place… it’s messing with our heads. We
need to get out of here.”
Manu nodded, his gaze sweeping the hall. “The mirrors are distractions. We must look past
them to find the true path.”
The hall shifted again, the mirrors rippling and multiplying. Their reflections danced and
f
lickered, showing glimpses of moments from their lives—victories, failures, and choices that
had shaped them.
“This way,” Manu said, moving forward with purpose.
Lava followed, his steps quick but cautious. “How do you know where to go?”
“The mirrors draw you in, but they cannot hide their nature,” Manu replied. “They pull us toward
our desires and fears. We must walk where their pull is weakest.”
They moved deeper into the hall, the reflections growing more erratic. The hum in the air
intensified, as if the realm itself was resisting their progress.
Finally, they reached the far side of the hall, where a single, unadorned mirror stood. Its surface
was smooth and calm, reflecting only the two warriors as they were, without distortion.
“This is the way,” Manu said, stepping toward it.
Lava hesitated, glancing at the mirror. “Are you sure? What if it’s another trick?”
“It reflects only the truth,” Manu said. “This is what we seek.”
He stepped through the mirror, its surface rippling like water as it enveloped him. Lava took a
deep breath and followed, the glass parting around him as he passed through.
On the other side, they emerged into a serene courtyard bathed in golden light. At its center
f
loated a delicate, crystalline lotus, glowing faintly with the energy of Svargaloka.
“The relic,” Manu said, his voice quiet with reverence.
The crystalline lotus hovered above a pedestal of gleaming marble, its delicate petals
shimmering in hues of gold, silver, and faint blue. Each petal seemed to pulse with a soft light,
casting intricate patterns across the courtyard.
Manu and Lava stepped forward cautiously, their gazes fixed on the relic. The hum of Svargaloka
f
illed the air, gentle and harmonious, but beneath it lay a subtle tension—a sense that the trial
was not yet over.
“This is it,” Lava said, stopping a few paces from the relic. “The Lotus of Clarity. Looks almost
too fragile to hold.”
Manu approached slowly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “Do not be deceived by its
appearance. The power it holds is immense. It represents clarity of thought and unity of
purpose—qualities we must embody if we are to claim it.”
Lava smirked, though his steps were careful. “Well, we’ve got purpose down. I mean, we’ve
made it this far, right?”
As they drew closer, the air around the lotus began to shimmer, the patterns of light shifting into
swirling shapes. A faint mist rose from the pedestal, curling around their feet and carrying with it
a chill that seeped into their bones.
“Something’s happening,” Lava said, his grin fading.
Manu stopped, his gaze sharpening. “The final trial. Stay alert, Lava. Svargaloka will not yield its
relic easily.”
The mist thickened, and the courtyard began to dissolve into a haze of light and shadow. The
crystalline lotus remained, its glow steady, but the world around them warped and twisted.
“Manu!” a voice called out, sharp and urgent.
Manu turned sharply, his eyes widening as he saw Lava standing at the far end of the courtyard,
bow drawn and aimed directly at him.
“Lava, what are you doing?” Manu asked, his hand instinctively moving to his sword.
“You’re the one who’s been holding me back,” Lava said, his voice cold and unfamiliar. “This
whole time, you’ve been treating me like a child, like I’m not good enough. Well, maybe it’s you
who’s not good enough.”
Manu frowned, his grip tightening on his weapon. “This is not you, Lava. These words—they are
not your own.”
“You’re wrong,” Lava snapped, his tone laced with bitterness. “I’ve been carrying this quest
while you play the wise king. But wisdom won’t win this fight, Manu. Strength will. And I’ve got
plenty of it.”
At the same moment, Lava saw something equally startling. Across the mist-shrouded
courtyard, Manu stood with his sword raised, his expression stern.
“You’ve let your arrogance blind you, Lava,” Manu said, his voice sharp. “You act without
thinking, putting us both at risk. Perhaps it’s time you learned the consequences of
recklessness.”
Lava’s brow furrowed, his knuckles whitening on the string of his bow. “What are you talking
about? I’ve been saving us this whole time while you sit back and play leader. Admit it, Manu—
you’re afraid I’ll outshine you.”
The two figures circled each other, the mist thickening as their words grew harsher. The
crystalline lotus pulsed faintly, its light dimming as the illusions tightened their grip.
But then, a spark of clarity cut through the haze.
Manu paused, lowering his sword slightly. “No,” he said quietly. “This isn’t real.”
Across the courtyard, Lava froze, his bow trembling in his hands. “What did you say?”
“This isn’t real,” Manu repeated, his tone firmer. “These words… they are not our own. The realm
is twisting our thoughts, feeding us lies to divide us.”
Lava hesitated, his gaze shifting to the lotus. Its faint glow reflected in his eyes, a steady
reminder of their true purpose. “You’re right,” he said, exhaling slowly. “We’re being played.”
The illusions faltered as the two warriors lowered their weapons, their focus sharpening. The
mist around them began to recede, and the courtyard reappeared, the crystalline lotus glowing
brighter as the deception unraveled.
Manu stepped forward, his voice steady. “The Lotus of Clarity does not test strength alone. It
tests unity. We were meant to see through the lies and remain true to each other.”
Lava nodded, his smirk returning. “Guess that means we passed, huh?”
Together, they approached the relic. As Manu reached out, the lotus flared with a brilliant light,
its petals unfolding fully to reveal a core of pure, radiant energy. The moment his fingers touched
the relic, a surge of warmth and clarity flooded through him, carrying with it a sense of profound
peace.
The lotus dissolved into a stream of golden light, splitting into two equal parts. One flowed into
Manu’s sword, its flames growing steadier and brighter, while the other infused Lava’s pendant,
enhancing the Boon of Vayu with new patterns of intricate light.
The hum of Svargaloka softened, the realm’s tension easing as its relic was claimed.
Manu turned to Lava, his expression calm but resolute. “We’ve restored balance here. The path
to the next Loka is open.”
Lava adjusted his pendant, grinning. “Good. Let’s hope the next one doesn’t mess with our
heads as much. I’m getting tired of all these mind games.”
A portal shimmered into view at the edge of the courtyard, its golden light beckoning them
forward. Manu and Lava exchanged a glance before stepping toward it, their resolve
strengthened by their shared victory.
As they disappeared into the portal’s light, Svargaloka began to heal, its illusions fading into the
purity of its celestial essence.
The golden light of the portal enveloped Manu and Lava, carrying them away from the radiant
illusions of Svargaloka. The warm hum of the celestial realm faded, replaced by a stillness that
felt neither welcoming nor hostile—a liminal space between what was and what would be.
Lava broke the silence first, his voice a mix of exhaustion and relief. “That place… I don’t think
I’ve ever had to fight my own thoughts like that. Give me a fire-breathing demon any day.”
Manu glanced at him, his expression thoughtful. “The mind can be as treacherous as the blade
of an enemy. Svargaloka tested more than our strength—it tested our ability to see clearly, even
when faced with our own fears and desires.”
Lava nodded, his usual smirk softened by a hint of vulnerability. “Yeah, well… I’m glad you were
there to snap me out of it. That whole thing with my dad…” He paused, shaking his head. “It felt
so real.”
Manu placed a hand on Lava’s shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring. “Illusions prey on what we
hold closest to our hearts. But the bond between allies can cut through even the strongest
deceptions. You reminded me of that when I faltered.”
Lava looked up at Manu, a faint grin creeping back onto his face. “Well, someone’s gotta keep
you grounded, right? Can’t have the wise king getting lost in his own head.”
Manu allowed a small smile to touch his lips. “Indeed. And I trust you’ll continue to do so.”
The portal’s light began to shift, the golden glow dimming as the space around them solidified
into a new landscape. The air grew cooler, carrying with it a faint, rhythmic sound—like the
distant crash of waves against a rocky shore.
The light faded completely, revealing their new surroundings. They stood at the edge of a vast
expanse of water, its surface shimmering beneath a pale, silvery light. Massive stone pillars
jutted from the water like ancient sentinels, their surfaces weathered by time. A faint mist hung
in the air, obscuring the horizon and giving the scene an otherworldly quality.
“Where are we now?” Lava asked, stepping cautiously onto the damp ground.
Manu took a deep breath, the crisp air filling his lungs. “This is Maharloka,” he said. “The realm
of sages and seekers. A place of reflection, where wisdom flows as freely as the waters.”
Lava frowned, peering at the pillars that stretched toward the sky. “It doesn’t look like much,” he
said. “Just a bunch of rocks and fog.”
Manu’s gaze swept the landscape, his expression contemplative. “Maharloka is not a place of
grandeur like Svargaloka. Its beauty lies in its stillness, its simplicity. But do not be deceived—its
trials will be no less challenging.”
Lava sighed, his hands resting on his hips. “Great. More trials. Let me guess—this one’s going to
make me question my existence or something, right?”
Manu chuckled softly, his tone light but knowing. “Perhaps. Or it may teach you something you
didn’t realize you needed to learn.”
Lava groaned, rolling his eyes. “I was kidding, Manu. I’m not exactly here for deep spiritual
insights. I just want to make it through without losing my mind.”
Manu stepped forward, his boots leaving faint impressions in the damp ground. “Maharloka’s
wisdom reveals itself in unexpected ways. Stay open to what it offers, and you may find more
than you expect.”
As they moved toward the first of the towering stone pillars, the rhythmic sound of the waves
grew louder, echoing through the mist. The water seemed to ripple with purpose, as if
responding to their presence.
Lava glanced at the shifting surface. “Is it just me, or does this water feel… alive?”
Manu stopped, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “You’re not imagining it. Maharloka is
deeply connected to the flow of thought and energy. The waters here reflect not just the physical
world, but the mind and spirit as well.”
Lava raised an eyebrow. “So, what? We’re about to fight some giant water spirit or something?”
Manu’s gaze remained fixed on the mist-shrouded horizon. “Perhaps. Or the battle may be
within ourselves.”
Lava groaned again, though the hint of a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Of course it will
be. Because that’s exactly what we need—more mind games.”
Manu didn’t respond, his attention drawn to a faint glow emanating from the base of the nearest
pillar. The light pulsed rhythmically, in time with the sound of the waves.
“That’s our next step,” Manu said, motioning toward the glow.
Lava tightened the grip on his bow, his tone shifting to one of determination. “Alright. Let’s see
what Maharloka’s got for us.”
The two warriors advanced toward the glowing pillar, their reflections rippling in the water
beneath their feet. The mist around them seemed to thicken, wrapping them in an embrace that
was both serene and foreboding.
Ahead, the light of Maharloka awaited, and with it, the next trial.
The glowing light at the base of the pillar pulsed in a steady rhythm, its soft golden hue reflected
in the calm waters surrounding it. Manu and Lava stood before it, the mist swirling faintly around
their feet.
“What now?” Lava asked, shifting his weight as he peered at the glowing glyphs carved into the
ancient stone. “Do we touch it? Solve a puzzle? Fight something?”
Manu studied the glyphs, his expression calm but focused. The intricate patterns seemed to
f
low like a river, each line weaving into the next. “No,” he said quietly. “This is not a trial of action.
Maharloka demands stillness.”
“Stillness?” Lava echoed, crossing his arms. “What’s that supposed to mean? We just… stand
here?”
Manu turned to him, his gaze steady. “This realm is one of reflection. The trial will test our ability
to remain calm and focused, even in the face of distraction or doubt. We must master our
thoughts and emotions to proceed.”
Lava raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. “So, we’re supposed to sit quietly and do nothing?
That’s it? Sounds easy enough.”
“It is not as easy as it seems,” Manu said. “Stillness is not the absence of movement. It is the
presence of clarity.”
Lava sighed but lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the damp ground. “Fine,” he said, closing
his eyes. “I’ll play along.”
Manu joined him, his posture straight and composed. The two sat in silence, the rhythmic
pulsing of the glyphs and the sound of the waves the only noises in the still air.
For a few moments, Lava managed to stay still, his breathing steady. But soon, his fingers began
to tap against his knee, and his eyes opened to glance around. “Is anything supposed to
happen?” he asked, his voice breaking the quiet.
Manu didn’t respond, his eyes remaining closed.
Lava groaned softly, leaning back on his hands. “This is ridiculous. We’re wasting time just
sitting here. What’s the point of a trial if nothing happens?”
Manu opened his eyes, turning to Lava with a calm but firm expression. “The trial is happening,
Lava. Your impatience, your doubt—these are the challenges you must overcome. Stillness
reveals the turmoil within.”
Lava frowned, looking away. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly great at sitting around doing nothing.”
Manu’s tone softened. “It is not about doing nothing. It is about observing. Listening. Let the
waves guide you, and the stillness will come.”
Lava hesitated, glancing at the calm water around them. He let out a slow breath and closed his
eyes again, this time focusing on the rhythmic sound of the waves.
For a moment, he felt himself begin to settle. The pulsing light of the glyphs seemed to sync with
his heartbeat, and the tension in his shoulders eased. But then, from the depths of the mist, a
faint whisper reached his ears.
“Lava…”
His eyes snapped open, and he turned toward the sound. “Did you hear that?”
Manu opened his eyes, his expression steady. “It is another illusion. Do not let it distract you.”
The whisper came again, louder this time. “Lava… you are not enough. You will fail him.”
Lava’s fists clenched, his breathing quickening. “Manu, what if it’s not an illusion? What if it’s—”
“It is your doubt speaking,” Manu interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “This realm reflects what
lies within us. Face it, and it will pass.”
Lava gritted his teeth, closing his eyes once more. The whispers grew louder, overlapping and
echoing in his mind. They spoke of failure, of unworthiness, of the weight of his father’s legacy
that he could never escape.
“I can’t…” Lava muttered, his voice strained. “I can’t shut it out.”
Manu shifted closer, his voice low and steady. “Do not fight the whispers. Acknowledge them.
They are part of you, but they do not define you.”
Lava’s breathing slowed slightly as he focused on Manu’s words. The whispers continued, but
their grip on him began to loosen. He turned his attention to the sound of the waves, their steady
rhythm cutting through the noise in his mind.
Slowly, the whispers faded, replaced by a profound silence. Lava opened his eyes, his gaze
meeting Manu’s.
“I think… I think I get it now,” Lava said quietly.
Manu gave a small nod. “Stillness does not silence the mind. It allows you to hear what truly
matters.”
The glyphs on the pillar flared brightly, their light cascading outward in a ripple that spread
across the water. The mist parted, revealing a new path—a stone bridge leading toward the next
pillar, its surface glowing faintly.
“The way forward is clear,” Manu said, rising to his feet.
Lava stood as well, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not bad, old man. You’re
pretty good at this whole ‘wise king’ thing.”
Manu allowed himself a small smile. “And you are learning to master your restlessness. That will
serve you well in the trials to come.”
Together, they stepped onto the bridge, the light of Maharloka guiding their way.
