**"Now THIS,"** I announced, leaning forward with excitement, "is where Ruru's story goes from heartbreaking tragedy to the most extraordinary demonstration of true love in mythological history!"
The sages were all hanging on my every word after that emotional cliffhanger. *Perfect. Time to deliver the payoff they're all hoping for.*
"So there's poor Ruru," I continued, "completely shattered by grief, wandering into the deep forest because he can't bear to watch the community mourning his beloved. He's alone with his devastation, and he just... breaks down completely."
"And in his despair, Ruru does what people do when faced with the impossible," I said. "He starts making desperate bargains with the universe!"
I stood up to channel his anguished voice.
"'If I have been charitable! If I have performed penance! If I have revered my superiors! Let the merit of all these good deeds restore my beloved to life!'"
"'If I have controlled my passions and kept my vows since birth, let fair Pramadvara rise from the ground!'"
"Basically," I explained, "he's trying to cash in his entire lifetime of good karma all at once for one miracle!"
Saunaka was nodding thoughtfully. "The classic attempt to trade merit for intervention."
"EXACTLY!" I exclaimed. "But here's the thing—the universe doesn't usually work on a simple transaction basis. You can't just spend good deeds like currency... or can you?"
"Just when Ruru thinks his pleas are falling on deaf ears," I continued dramatically, "a messenger from HEAVEN itself appears in the forest!"
"And this celestial being tells him something that changes everything: 'Your words alone won't work, Ruru. Someone whose time has run out can't simply return to life through merit alone. But... the gods have provided a way. IF you're willing to pay the price.'"
"Ruru is like, 'TELL ME! I'll do ANYTHING!' And the messenger delivers the most profound offer in romantic literature:"
"'Resign half of your own life to your bride, and Pramadvara will rise from the ground.'"
I paused to let that sink in.
"Half his life. Not his wealth, not his status, not his accomplishments. Half of his actual lifespan. The divine equivalent of 'Are you willing to literally give years of your own existence to save hers?'"
The sages were completely silent, absorbing the weight of the choice.
"And Ruru's response?" I asked rhetorically. "He doesn't even hesitate. Not for a SECOND."
"'I most willingly offer half of my own life! Let my beloved rise up in her dress and lovable form!'"
"No negotiation, no 'can I think about it,' no 'maybe just a quarter of my life?' Just immediate, total commitment to saving the woman he loves!"
"But here's where it gets interesting," I continued. "Even divine miracles apparently require proper paperwork! The celestial messenger and Viswavasu—remember him? Pramadvara's biological father, the Gandharva king—have to go to Dharmaraja himself!"
"They basically present their case to the god of death and justice: 'Sir, we have a request for life-transfer. One half-lifespan donation from Ruru to Pramadvara, pending your approval.'"
"And Dharmaraja—who apparently appreciates true love when he sees it—says, 'Application approved!'"
"And then," I said, my voice becoming softer and more wonderful, "the most beautiful moment in the entire story happens."
"Pramadvara, lying there looking like a sleeping lotus, suddenly... stirs. Her eyes flutter open. She sits up as if waking from a peaceful nap, now carrying half of Ruru's life force within her."
"She's alive. She's beautiful. She's exactly as she was, but now she's literally sharing her beloved's lifespan. They're connected on the most fundamental level possible—two souls sharing one extended existence!"
"Their families are ecstatic! The wedding happens on the most auspicious day possible! The couple is devoted to each other in a way that goes beyond normal marriage—they're literally sharing the same life!"
"It's the ultimate happy ending to a tragic love story! True love conquers death! Divine intervention rewards pure devotion! Everything is perfect!"
I paused dramatically.
"But..."
"Here's the thing about making deals involving life and death," I said, my voice taking on a more serious tone. "There are always consequences."
"Ruru now knows—really, truly KNOWS—that serpents can destroy everything he loves in a single moment. His beloved died from a snake bite. His happiness, his future, his entire world was shattered by one serpent's fangs."
"And now he has something he never had before his loss: a burning, all-consuming hatred for the entire snake species."
"Ruru makes a vow," I continued darkly. "He swears to destroy every serpent he encounters. Not just dangerous ones, not just aggressive ones—ALL serpents. He becomes a one-man snake genocide campaign!"
"Whenever he sees a snake, he's filled with rage and kills it immediately. He's like a mythological superhero, except instead of protecting people, he's driven by trauma and revenge!"
"And that brings us to the scene that will define everything that follows," I said, building tension again.
"One day, Ruru is walking through an extensive forest—probably hunting for more serpents to kill—when he spots an old Dundubha serpent lying on the ground."
"This isn't some dangerous, aggressive snake. It's an elderly serpent, just lying there peacefully, minding its own business."
"But Ruru sees it and immediately raises his staff—described as being 'like the staff of Death itself'—ready to kill it without question or mercy."
"And just as Ruru is about to strike, the old serpent speaks:"
"'I have done thee no harm, O Brahmana! Why will you slay me in anger?'"
I let the question hang in the air.
"The simplest, most reasonable question in the world. 'What did I personally do to deserve death?' But it's a question that's about to force Ruru to confront the difference between justice and revenge, between protecting others and indulging trauma-driven hatred."
"And there we have it," I said, settling back down. "Ruru, staff raised, ready to kill an innocent creature because of his trauma and hatred. An old serpent asking the most reasonable question possible. A moment where everything hangs in the balance."
"Will love that conquered death be twisted into hatred that destroys the innocent? Will the man who sacrificed half his life to save his beloved now use his remaining years to become a monster? Or will wisdom somehow prevail?"
Saunaka was leaning forward intently. "A fascinating transformation from ultimate love to potential vigilante justice. What does Ruru choose?"
I grinned. "Ah, that conversation between the traumatized hero and the innocent victim? That's going to be one of the most important philosophical discussions about justice, revenge, and the nature of guilt you'll ever hear!"
"But that," I said with a knowing smile, "requires its own proper telling."