— Five minutes later —
"So, my child, have you finished thinking?" a gentle and calming voice echoed in my ears, soothing the atmosphere and pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Yes, I have. I gave it careful thought and decided on the kind of ability I would like," I replied.
"Oh? And what kind of ability have you chosen?"
"May I request three abilities, please?"
"Certainly, that's no problem. Just tell me what they are—if it is within my power, I shall grant them."
"For my first ability, I would like immortality. Is that possible?"
"Very well, granted," the voice responded. "Now, what is your second wish?"
"Does the world I'm going to have magic or something similar?" I asked curiously.
"Yes, it does—magic exists in many different forms," the voice replied calmly, as if in thought. "You will be free to study and practice any form that suits you."
"Then, for my second ability, I wish for unlimited energy—something that can be used for any kind of magic."
"Granted. Now, what would you like as your final ability?"
"I'd like the ability to create—something like a power of creation."
"Could you clarify what you mean by that?" the voice asked. "There are hundreds of ways to create and thousands of forms of creation."
"Hmm..." I fell into deep thought again. "The type of ability where I can create anything I imagine, anything I know or think of—even its inner workings should function exactly as I picture them. Is something like that possible?"
"It is indeed possible," the voice responded thoughtfully. "However, such a power would require a unique and higher form of energy—so I assume your request for unlimited energy would also extend to supporting this creation ability."
"What kind of energy is that? Could you explain it to me?" I asked curiously.
I didn't know much about energy or its types. The only thing I could recall was, "Energy can neither be created nor destroyed, only transformed from one form to another."
'Ah, I really should've paid more attention in class.'
"The energy required for the kind of creation you're asking for is called 'Shakti'—a higher form of energy also referred to as divine, cosmic, or universal energy," the voice explained patiently. "Other types of energy like 'Bola,' 'Urja,' and 'Tejas' are used in various forms of creation by humans, each serving a different purpose."
'That completely went over my head. Am I just dumb, or is this simply too advanced for me right now?'
"Do not worry, my child you are not dumb," the voice reassured gently. "This is your first encounter with such knowledge, so it's only natural that it will take time to fully understand—"
The voice suddenly paused for a moment.
"What is it?" I asked.
"I believe our time is up for now. But fret not, my child—this is not the end, but rather a new beginning for you." The voice echoed warmly.
"Wait! Before I go, can you tell me who you are? Are you really... a god? Actually, I've never really believed in gods."
"Ha ha ha… My child, I cannot reveal my identity to you. But some have called me 'The Creator.' 'The All Knowing' ' The Prime Creator' 'The Grandfather of All' and many more" The voice paused, then gently asked, "And may I know your name?"
"My name? Oh yes—my name is Kaira."
"Kaira… what a beautiful name," the voice said warmly, with a gentle, grandfatherly chuckle. "It means 'Child of the Moon,' 'Purity,' 'Beloved,' 'Radiant,' 'Throne,' 'Light,' and 'Lotus-born.' Your parents must have truly cherished you to give you such a meaningful name."
"Now then, Kaira…
Life may be short, yet it can also feel long—unfolding like a beautiful song. Live it to the fullest and cherish every second and hours,
for it may not come again. Write your story with your own hands, and make it truly yours."
"Thank you for everything," I said, pouring all my gratitude into those words.
Though I couldn't feel my body to offer a proper bow, the sincerity in my heart was unwavering. From this moment on, I will pray each day as a way to express my deepest and most heartfelt feeling of gratitude.
Just as I was about to say more, my soul began to tremble, and a sensation of weightlessness washed over me, followed by a powerful pulling force.
Within seconds, everything faded, and I lost consciousness.Certainly! Here's a formal, friendly, and narratively engaging scene of a villager discovering a mysterious child on a floating lotus:
---
The Gift of the River
The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm amber hue across the forest path. Birds chirped their final notes of the day as a lone figure moved steadily along the worn trail.
Raghavan, a humble villager in his late fifties, with a frame weathered by years of work and eyes softened by kindness, was returning from gathering herbs and wood in the forest. A woven basket hung from his shoulder, half-filled with fragrant roots and bark.
As he neared the bend where the forest met the river, a soft, melodic hum caught his ear—like a lullaby carried on the wind. Curious, he paused, turning his gaze toward the water.
What he saw stopped him mid-step.
Floating gently down the wide, glimmering river was a large lotus flower, pure white with subtle golden veins. Upon it, swaddled in fine white cloth, lay a child—serene and still, as though sleeping peacefully.
Raghavan's breath caught in his throat. He blinked to make sure it wasn't a vision, but the child remained, glowing softly in the fading light.
Without hesitation, he stepped closer to the bank and waded carefully into the cool, knee-deep water. The lotus moved toward him as if guided by unseen hands, stopping just within reach.
Gently, reverently, he extended his arms and lifted the child from the lotus. The moment he did, the flower dissolved into the water like mist under sunlight.
Holding the infant close to his chest, Raghavan whispered, "By the gods… where have you come from, little one?"
The child stirred, eyes still closed, but let out a soft sigh—content, safe.
Raghavan looked around once more, ensuring no one else was nearby. Then, with a steady pace, he turned and began his walk home, the forest path now bathed in the pale glow of the rising moon.
---
Later That Evening – Inside Raghavan's Modest Hut
He laid the child on a soft mat near the fire, wrapping them in a warm cotton shawl. His wife, Meera, eyes wide with both wonder and concern, gently stroked the child's tiny hand.
"Where did you find her?" she asked softly.
"Floating on the river," Raghavan replied, voice still laced with awe. "On a lotus flower… as though the river itself had delivered her to us."
Meera crossed herself reverently. "A child wrapped in light, delivered by the water… She must be a blessing."
Raghavan nodded. "Then we shall treat her as such. From this day on, she is under our care."
Outside, the river flowed silently under the moon's gentle gaze—its secret carried onward in its eternal song.