Chapter 99: The Rise of Water Disaster
The sky above was clear
Kirti had grown up with silence. It was her companion her refuge and her weapon. She never asked questions aloud yet her eyes always searched for answers. Her face though healed still carried the scars of grief. Her back though straightened still remembered the weight of her past.
One day while walking through a small village nestled near the forest she passed a group of children gathered around an old man. He was animatedly narrating a tale his hands waving through the air as the children listened wide-eyed.
"And Hiranyakashyap with his unmatched penance gained immense boons from Lord Brahma! And his brother Hiranyaksha too became so strong he could challenge even the gods!" the old man exclaimed.
Kirti paused.
Power… through penance? Could it be possible?
The children clapped in awe as the tale ended. Kirti stood silently at a distance her mind racing. If they could gain strength through their devotion and penance then maybe… she could too.
But which deity should she turn to?
As the question plagued her mind the faint sound of a bell reached her ears. A deep resonant chime carried by the wind. Her feet moved on their own following the melody until she stood before a humble temple—its name carved in stone above the archway: Temple of Devi Parvati.
An old priest noticed her standing quietly. Without a word he walked forward and offered her a small piece of coconut ladoo.
"Maata's blessings" he said with a warm smile.
That smile. That warmth. It reminded her of the mother she lost. The pain in her heart stirred again.
She bowed her head and took the offering her decision made.
"Maata Parvati… daughter of the mountains… wife of the mighty Shiva… the universal mother" she whispered to herself. "I will offer my prayers to you."
---
Thus began her journey. She wandered from village to village forest to forest until she came upon a lonely serene mountain. Surrounded by snow and silence it was the perfect place. Here she carved a small statue of Maata Parvati from a smooth rock. The sculpture bore a gentle smile the kind that soothed pain without words.
Before the statue Kirti knelt.
"Om Hrim Parvatyai Namah… Om Hrim Parvatyai Namah… Om Hrim Parvatyai Namah..."
And so it began.
One day became two. Then ten. Then hundreds.
Seasons changed but her mantra never wavered.
Her clothes grew worn. Her hair matted. Her body thin and covered in snow dust and sweat. But the fire within her blazed brighter.
Animals came and went. Storms passed. But Kirti's resolve remained.
Years passed. Nine long unbroken years of penance silence and endless chanting.
And then… one day…
A soft light surrounded her. A divine fragrance filled the air. The very wind seemed to pause in reverence.
A voice gentle and nurturing echoed:
"My child. I have heard your soul."
Kirti opened her eyes. Before her stood Maata Parvati radiant and glowing like the moonlight on calm waters.
Tears streamed down Kirti's cheeks for the first time in years.
"Maa…"
She ran forward and collapsed in Parvati's arms.
"Why… why did they die? Why did I survive? Why did it hurt so much?" she sobbed.
Parvati cradled her gently like a mother with her newborn.
"Because you were meant to rise from it all my child."
Kirti wept until the weight of nine years of silence melted away.
Parvati wiped her tears and asked "What is it that you desire Kirti?"
"I… I want to be strong. Not for revenge. But so I never have to feel that helpless again. So I can protect what I love. So I can give hope to someone like me."
"Do you wish to gain strength all at once? Or to grow strong step by step?"
Kirti looked up. Her heart ached. Her body begged for relief. But she knew...
"If I get everything now… I will not learn what it means to carry it. I want to grow… step by step."
Parvati smiled. A proud divine smile.
"Then let it be so. From today I will be your teacher."
---
Years passed again.
Kirti trained under the divine guidance of Maata Parvati. She was taught how to control her Prana—to channel it like a river through her veins to breathe it feel it mold it.
She learned the art of the Trishul practicing with divine replicas until her movements became a blur of grace and death.
And then came her awakening.
She had reached the fifth stage of Prana cultivation—Prana Siddhi—where the soul reveals its innate gift.
As she meditated under a waterfall her Prana burst outward. From the center of her body a swirling radiant power erupted—shiny blue water materialized around her dense and beautiful like polished sapphire.
Sapphire Heavy Water.
A water denser than any river able to crush shield or drown with its sheer weight. It was a rare and formidable Siddhi.
Parvati watched from a distance proud and serene.
"You have earned your name Kirti. And you have earned this."
She walked toward Kirti and handed her a shimmering blue trishul its tips glowing with divine water energy.
"I forged this from the minerals of the deepest glacial rivers and enchanted it with my blessings. Its name is Neelam. It will respond only to your heart your will."
Kirti bowed accepting it with reverence.
---
Then came the breakthrough.
One morning while training a thunderous roar echoed through the mountains. A divine voice rang across Bharatvarsh.
"We congratulate a new Maharathi. She who holds the sapphire tides within her heart. Let the world know her as — Water Disaster."
The birds flew into the sky. The earth trembled softly. Every warrior across the land paused in awe.
But Kirti? She stood silently breathing softly her eyes calm. There was no pride no vanity. Only a steady flame of resolve.
Parvati stood beside her.
"Your training is complete Kirti. The world will call you many names. But only you will know your truth."
Kirti bowed. "Maa… I will now walk my path. To find justice. To find… him."
"Then go my daughter. But remember—you were never alone. Not then Not now."
Kirti looked to the horizon. Her memories echoed with the voice of a boy his touch his kindness… the one who once healed her broken body and broken spirit.
She would find him.
She would repay that light.
And she would never stop walking.
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Thus the girl who once carried the ashes of her village became a force of nature trained by a goddess empowered by pain driven by purpose.
Her silence would become the loudest roar.
Chapter End---