The celestial gates of Swarg shimmered with intensified brilliance as Shaurya crossed the threshold. A grand welcome awaited him. Rows of Gandharvas blew conch shells, their sacred notes echoing through the heavens. Divine drums thrummed, and massive celestial kettledrums boomed, announcing the return of a hero.
Devas and Apsaras lined the golden pathways, showering his path with fragrant Parijat flowers and chanting his name. "Shaurya! Jay Ho Maha-Yoddha Shaurya!" The air itself seemed to dance with celebration.
Yet, amidst this grandeur, Shaurya's face remained a placid lake. He acknowledged the welcome with a slight, formal nod, his eyes holding a distant grief that the festivities could not touch.
He was immediately summoned to the court of Indra.
The Sabha was at its most resplendent. The living stars on the ceiling shone brighter, the emerald pillars gleamed, and the assembled Devas—Agni, Vayu, Varun—all watched him with pride and curiosity. Indra sat upon his magnificent throne, his expression a blend of authority and approval.
As Shaurya approached and bowed deeply, the hall fell into a respectful silence.
"You have done well, Shaurya," Indra's voice boomed, warm with genuine praise. "The mortal realm is safe, and a descendant of our ancient foe has been vanquished. Your loyalty and power have made Swarg proud."
Shaurya kept his head bowed. "I merely performed my duty, Devraj."
"And it is this sense of duty we must now channel into a new purpose," Indra declared, his gaze sweeping over the court before settling back on Shaurya. "Your strategic mind and combat prowess are legendary. But a legend that is not passed on, fades."
A heavy weight settled in Shaurya's chest.
"From this day forward," Indra's voice echoed with finality, "you will be the primary instructor of Swarg's new generation. You will shape our future shields and swords. You will teach them warfare, strategy, and divine weaponry."
It was a chain. A beautiful, golden chain binding him to Swarg, keeping him from his true quest. Yet, his face remained a mask of stoic obedience. "Jo aagya, Devraj Indra."
Indra gestured to a group of young, bright-eyed Devas standing at the side of the hall. "Behold, your new disciples. The future champions of Swarg."
He pointed to each group in turn:
"The Agnikul" - clad in crimson and gold, masters of celestial fire. "Our frontline against evil."
"TheVayukul" - dressed in flowing sky-blue, swift as the wind itself. "Our messengers and support."
"TheAakashkul" - their garments deep indigo, dotted with stars. "The watchers of the cosmos."
"ThePrithvikul" - in earthy tones of brown and green. "The steadfast guardians of Earth."
"TheNeerkul" - in shades of aqua and sea-green. "The wielders of all waters."
Indra's eyes, sharp and knowing, locked with Shaurya's. "You will teach them all. Their dedication will be a reflection of your own."
"Jo aagya, Devraj," Shaurya repeated, the words feeling like a life sentence.
---
The applause in the Sabha was thunderous, but Shaurya heard none of it. As the hall emptied, he turned to leave, his steps slow, deliberate, as if walking through mud.
He did not go to his chambers. Instead, his feet carried him towards his brother's private quarters.
Tejas was waiting, leaning against the doorway. His arms were crossed, but his eyes held no judgment, only a deep, brotherly understanding. As soon as Shaurya was close, Tejas pushed off the doorway and enveloped him in a crushing, wordless embrace.
It said everything. I know your pain. I am here.
"You look like you have fought a war against your own soul, not just a demon," Tejas said, his voice a low, concerned rumble as he released him and guided him inside. "What happened? You eliminated Vritrasur, didn't you? And... the real reason you went... did you... see him?"
Shaurya finally let the mask slip completely in the privacy of his brother's home. The exhaustion and emotional whirlwind were starkly evident in his eyes. He sank onto a cushion. "Haan, Bhayya. Vritrasur is no more. And... yes. I saw him."
He paused, closing his eyes as the image of the newborn baby flashed before him. "He was... so small, Bhayya. So peaceful. He has no memory... of us. Of the wars, the laughter... of me." The last word was a whisper, laden with pain.
Tejas sat beside him, placing a firm, comforting hand on his shoulder. "But he is back, Shaurya. He breathes again. That is what matters. The rest... the memories, the bond... it will follow. Have faith."
They sat in silence for a while, the weight of millennia between them.
---
Later, Shaurya stood before his new students on the Akrrit Dhwani Kshetra. The young Devas, arranged by their respective Kuls, buzzed with a mixture of excitement, nervousness, and sheer awe for the legend before them.
For hours, he transformed into the impeccable, demanding instructor. His mood was not angry, but intensely focused.
· To the Agnikul, he taught control. "Your fire can incinerate a legion or gently heal a mortal's wound. Do not let it consume you; you must consume it." He demonstrated by creating a roaring ring of fire, then condensing it into a single, tiny flame on his palm.
· To the Vayukul, he taught precision. "Speed without direction is a leaf in a hurricane—useless. A focused gust can disarm; a wild storm causes chaos." He showed them how to use the wind to pluck a single, specific petal from a flower ten feet away.
· To the Aakashkul, he taught perception. "The secrets of the universe are written in the stars and the silent spaces between them. Do not just look; see. Learn to see what others miss."
· To the Prithvikul, he taught resilience. "Like the ancient mountain, you must be unmovable in defense. Your strength is not in aggression, but in your absolute stability." He had them practice the 'Dhriti Asana' until their feet seemed to root to the ground.
· To the Neerkul, he taught adaptability. "Be formless. Be relentless. Understand when to be the gentle, persistent stream and when to be the single, crashing wave." He shaped water into a shimmering shield, then transformed it into a needle-sharp projectile.
Throughout it all, he was brilliant. A fountain of inexhaustible knowledge, patiently repeating, demonstrating, correcting.
But the fire of passion, the light of joy that should have accompanied such mastery, was absent. He was teaching them how to be perfect warriors, while his own heart was a living testament to the brutal, emotional battles that even perfection cannot win.
As the long session concluded and the students dispersed, their bodies tired but spirits soaring with newfound knowledge, Shaurya stood alone once more on the silent plain. The echo of his own solitude was louder and more profound than any sound the field could absorb.
High above, on a balcony of solidified cloud, Indra watched the solitary figure below. His queen, Indrani, glided to his side.
"Kya hua, Swami? Aap kahein udaas lag rahe hain." (What happened, my Lord? You seem sad.)
Indra did not look away from Shaurya. "Kuch nahi, Maharani," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "Vidhi ka vidhan kitna krur ho sakta hai, bas yahi soch raha tha." (Nothing, my Queen. I was just thinking about how cruel the laws of destiny can be.)
He then asked her a cryptic question. "Kya aapko pata hai, is Brahmand mein aisi konsi cheez hai jo bina kahe sab kuch keh jaati hai?" (Do you know what thing in this universe says everything without saying anything?)
Indrani was puzzled. "Nahi, Dev. Aisi koi cheej? Konsi?" (No, my Lord. Such a thing? Which one?)
Indra's eyes, ancient and weary, seemed to look through her and into the core of creation itself. "Aankhein, Devi. Aankhein." (Eyes, my Queen. Eyes.) He gestured subtly towards the distant training ground. "Woh sab kuch keh jaati hain, bina bole... Bas shart itni hai ki inhe padhne wala koi hona chahiye, jo inka dard samajh sake." (They say everything, without speaking... The only condition is that there must be someone to read them, someone who can understand their pain.)
He then turned away, the image of the heartbroken warrior seared into his mind.
---
Back on the training ground, the weight of the memory, so vivid and brutal, still pressed down on Shaurya's soul. He slowly raised his left hand, his fingers once again finding their way to the worn, star-metal bracelet.
In the profound silence, surrounded by the perfect beauty of Heaven, Shaurya was alone again with the echo of a single, silent question, his only companion the ghost of a love that had defied the cosmos.
Chapter End :
He had become a mentor to Heaven's future, a living legend molding new heroes. But as his fingers traced the cold metal of the bracelet—a promise from a life long lost—Shaurya knew the most difficult lesson was one he himself had yet to learn: how to be a guardian of a realm, when his heart was held hostage on another.