The sky was iron-gray when Ganesh followed Mahadev out of the cave at dawn.
Wind tore across the plateau, carrying ice and dust. The peaks loomed like silent witnesses, their edges sharp against the clouds.
Ganesh's body still ached from the trials of the previous day, yet the fire within him burned steady now, no longer wild. He walked with quiet focus, staff in hand.
Shiva stopped near the center of the plateau.
He turned.
"Today," Mahadev said,
"you will learn what it means to touch power… without becoming its servant."
Ganesh bowed. "I am ready, Gurudev."
Shiva's gaze pierced him.
"Then show me."
He raised his hand.
The wind died.
The clouds parted.
The mountain fell into an unnatural stillness.
Then the air before them tore open with a low, thunderous hum.
From nothingness emerged a shape of blinding light.
A trident.
Not fully formed.
Its edges shimmered between flame and shadow, too vast to be real, yet too real to be illusion. The mere presence of it made Ganesh's breath catch and his heart pound.
He felt it instantly.
Recognition.
Fear.
Reverence.
"Is that…" Ganesh whispered.
Shiva nodded slowly.
"A shadow of my Trishul."
The trident hovered between them, its glow lighting the plateau like a small sun.
Ganesh felt the fire within him surge in response. His palms tingled, aching to reach for it.
"Why show me this, Gurudev?" he asked.
Shiva's voice was calm.
"Because one day, you may carry a form of it."
"But today, I will see whether you are fit to even look at it."
Ganesh swallowed.
The trident pulsed, and a wave of pressure rolled outward.
Ganesh staggered back, barely keeping his footing.
His breath grew heavy.
The fire in his chest flared, responding to the trident's presence like a beast sensing another.
Images from his awakening flickered—battles, standing against devas and asuras, wielding great power.
A voice rose within him:
With this, you would never fall again.
Ganesh clenched his fists.
He looked at Shiva.
"Gurudev… it's calling to me."
Shiva nodded.
"Power always does."
Ganesh stepped forward despite himself.
The closer he came, the heavier the air grew, as though he were walking into a storm of invisible weight.
He reached out—
Then hesitated.
The voice within him whispered again:
Take it. You have suffered enough. You deserve this.
His hand trembled.
Shiva's voice thundered softly.
"Why do you reach?"
Ganesh froze.
Why was he reaching?
He closed his eyes, searching within.
Because he was tired of falling.
Because he was tired of being weak.
Because he wanted to stand above fear.
He opened his eyes.
"I reach because I don't want to be helpless again," he said honestly.
Shiva's gaze sharpened.
"And if you are never helpless again… what will you become?"
Ganesh's breath caught.
He imagined himself walking the road, unstoppable, feared by enemies, never needing help, never falling.
The image felt powerful.
And empty.
"I would become alone," he whispered.
Shiva nodded.
"Yes."
Ganesh slowly lowered his hand.
"I don't want power to escape weakness," he said. "I want strength to stand with it."
The trident's glow softened.
The pressure eased.
Shiva stepped closer.
"This is the first truth of power," Mahadev said.
"If you seek it to protect yourself, it will enslave you."
"If you accept it to protect others, it may serve you."
Ganesh bowed deeply.
"I understand… a little."
Shiva waved his hand.
The trident dissolved into light, fading back into nothingness.
The wind returned.
The mountain breathed again.
Ganesh let out a long breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Shiva did not let him rest.
The rest of the day was spent in brutal training.
Shiva pushed him harder than before, making him fight against illusions of beasts and warriors conjured from ash and wind.
Each opponent was stronger than the last.
Ganesh fought with staff and bare hands, drawing on both his present training and the instincts that rose from memory.
But each time he leaned too much into old power, Shiva would strike his staff aside.
"Do not fight as a ghost!" Mahadev would roar.
"Fight as the one who stands now!"
Sweat and blood mixed on Ganesh's skin.
By midday, he collapsed to his knees, breath ragged.
"I can't… keep up," he gasped.
Shiva stood before him.
"You are not here to keep up."
"You are here to be stripped."
Ganesh looked up, eyes burning with determination.
"Then strip me more."
Shiva nodded once.
And the training continued.
Later, as the sun dipped behind clouds, Shiva finally called a halt.
Ganesh lay on the stone, staring at the sky, every muscle screaming.
Shiva sat beside him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Ganesh asked, "Gurudev… will I ever be worthy to carry a weapon like that?"
Shiva looked at the peaks.
"Worthy is not decided by strength," he said.
"It is decided by what remains when strength is taken away."
Ganesh turned his head toward him.
"And what must remain?"
Shiva met his gaze.
"Compassion that does not flinch."
Ganesh closed his eyes, letting the words sink in.
As they returned to the cave, Ganesh felt the fire within him burning steady and clear.
He no longer felt the trident calling.
Instead, he felt a quiet resolve.
Not to seek power.
But to be ready for it, if it was ever placed in his hands.
Shiva looked at him as they reached the cave.
"Tomorrow," Mahadev said,
"you will leave these peaks for a time."
Ganesh's heart jumped. "Leave? But… my training—"
Shiva raised a hand.
"The mountain has given you its first lessons."
"Now the world will test whether you can carry them."
Ganesh bowed deeply.
"I will not fail, Gurudev."
Shiva's eyes gleamed.
"You will."
"But you will learn."
Ganesh smiled faintly.
"Yes, Gurudev."
As he lay down near the fire that night, one thought filled him:
Power was no longer something to grasp.
It was something to deserve.