The Temple of Vishwa
The air around the Temple of Lord Vishwa was thick with the scent of incense and the low hum of chanting voices. Pilgrims crowded the stone steps, each carrying garlands of marigolds, bowls of rice, or clay lamps glowing with tiny flames. Bells rang rhythmically in the high towers, the sound echoing across the courtyard like a heartbeat.
Vid, barely sixteen, followed just a step behind Vick. The boy's shoulders ached under the weight of the short sword strapped to his back, but he didn't complain. They had been on the road for weeks, and the thought of Gangi Valley — now only three days away — gnawed at the edge of his mind.
Three days until the battle, Vick had said that morning, his voice low but steady. Three days until everything changes.
Now, as they climbed the final steps toward the temple's great doors, Vick's jaw was set hard. Vid caught the faintest murmur from his commander:"If we fail in that valley… the whole empire will bleed."
They stepped into the temple's grand hall, and the noise of the outside world melted away. A towering statue dominated the space — a colossal bird, wings folded, its head bowed as though kneeling before the chamber that lay beyond. Its eyes, carved from dark jade, seemed to glint even in the dim torchlight. The stone beneath their boots was cool, worn smooth by centuries of worshippers.
Vid craned his neck. "Why a bird?" he asked in a hushed tone.
Vick didn't answer immediately. He stepped past the statue, his gaze locked on the great chamber doors ahead. "Some say the bird was Lord Vishwa's messenger," he said at last. "Others… that it was his first creation. But today we're not here for stories."
They pushed open the heavy wooden doors, stepping into the inner chamber.
The air was different here — heavier, stiller. The walls were covered in faded murals: battles fought before the age of steel, empires rising and falling, and a figure cloaked in light at the center of it all. At the far end sat an elderly sage, cross-legged on a small platform draped with saffron cloth. His beard was long and silver, his eyes half-closed in meditation.
And then… the sage's head snapped up.
His gaze locked on Vid.
The boy froze under the weight of it. Those eyes — sharp as if they could peel back the skin of the world and see the truth beneath — studied him for only a heartbeat before clouding over, as though the sage were looking somewhere far beyond the present.
Vid felt it — a strange pressure behind his eyes, a rush of heat in his chest. The chamber around him blurred. For a split second, he saw something impossible: a battlefield under a crimson sky, the air thick with ash. Towers crumbled in the distance. Armies clashed with the roar of thunder. And there — older, scarred, his hair streaked with white — was Vid himself, standing at the center, blade in hand, facing a monstrous shadow that blotted out the sun.
The vision shattered as the sage spoke, his voice ringing out in the ancient tongue:"Yatra devasya margah durlabhah, tatra purusho divyo jayati."("The path to the Lord is more difficult than the path of kings, yet the divine man shall triumph.")
Vid blinked, the foreign words bouncing uselessly in his head. He glanced at Vick. "What… what did he just—?"
But the sage was still speaking, louder now, his words flowing in a river of Sanskrit. Vick understood enough to catch fragments: …the boy of sixteen… the bearer of the eternal spark… the coming war beyond the reckoning of this age…
Finally, the sage rose, leaning heavily on a carved staff. His voice dropped into the common tongue, his gaze never leaving Vid.
"You are Vid," he said simply. "Not merely a soldier's son. Not merely a wanderer in another man's war. You are the thread that will stitch together an age torn apart."
Vid's mouth went dry. "I… I don't understand."
"You will," the sage said. "But not today. Today, you hunt a monster."
Vick stepped forward. "Sage, with respect — we're on the emperor's mission. Gangi Valley will fall if we don't—"
The sage's hand shot up, silencing him. "The valley will stand or fall regardless of you, Commander. But this one—" he nodded toward Vid, "—his steps echo beyond your valley, beyond your emperor, beyond this age."
"I'm just a kid," Vid blurted, almost laughing from the absurdity. "I can fight, sure, but… this war you're talking about? That's not me."
The sage's lips curled into the faintest smile. "The oak does not know it is an oak when it is an acorn."
Vid shifted uncomfortably. His stomach churned, but not from fear alone — from something stranger. A tiny, stubborn ember inside him wanted to believe the sage. That vision had felt too real to dismiss as a trick of the light.
Vick's voice softened. "Sage… what war?"
The old man's eyes grew distant again. "A war not yet named. A war that will begin when the sky burns and the rivers turn black. Nations will crumble. Gods will walk among mortals again. And this boy—" his gaze sharpened, "—will hold the balance in his hands."
Silence fell heavy between them. Outside, the temple bells tolled the hour.
Vick straightened. "We can't delay any longer. Monster or prophecy, our orders are clear."
The sage nodded, as if he'd expected that. "Go, then. But remember this, Vid: the monster you face now is a shadow of the one you will face in years to come. Learn its shape. Learn its hunger. The day will come when you must stand alone against it."
Vid swallowed hard. "And if I fail?"
The sage's expression didn't change. "Then the age fails with you."
The words hung in the air long after they left the temple.
They descended the temple steps in silence. The crowd had thinned; the sun was dipping toward the horizon, casting the bird statue in long shadows. Vid kept his eyes on the ground, his mind replaying the vision, the words, the weight in the sage's voice.
Finally, he spoke. "Do you… believe him? About me?"
Vick didn't answer at first. "I believe in what I've seen," he said at last. "And I've seen you survive things grown men wouldn't."
"That's not the same as… saving the world."
"No," Vick said. "But it's a start."
The road ahead stretched toward the dense forest where the temple's priests had last reported sightings of the creature. Somewhere out there, three days from Gangi Valley, a monster waited. But for the first time, Vid wondered if that monster was just the beginning of something far greater.
And far worse.
The main chamber of the Temple of Lord Vishwa was unlike anything Vid had ever seen in his life. The moment they stepped inside, the noise of the bustling outer courtyard faded into a profound stillness, as if the walls themselves had absorbed centuries of prayers. The air was heavy with the scent of sandalwood and camphor, while the golden rays of the late afternoon sun filtered in through the high, narrow windows, striking the central statue with an almost divine glow.
Vick walked ahead, his footsteps soft but steady on the polished stone floor. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, as though even here, in the house of God, he could not forget the war that loomed just three days away. Vid, on the other hand, found his legs slowing of their own accord. The chamber felt… alive. Each step forward was met with a strange hum in the air, a subtle vibration that he could feel in his bones.
And then he saw it.
The statue of Lord Vishwa stood at the very heart of the chamber, carved entirely out of white marble that shimmered faintly under the sunlight. The deity was depicted with four arms — one holding a bow, one a conch, one a lotus, and the last raised in blessing. His face was serene, yet there was a subtle intensity in His eyes, as though He could see through every soul that stood before Him. A massive bird, wings folded, knelt at His feet — the celestial mount Garuda — carved so intricately that even the feathers looked real.
Vid's breath caught in his throat. The image of the bow in the god's hand burned itself into his mind, drawing him in with an almost magnetic pull. He walked forward slowly, past the flickering oil lamps, past the garlands of fresh flowers laid at the god's feet, until he stood just a step away from the statue.
Vick watched him silently from behind. He knew better than to disturb the boy in this moment.
Vid sank to his knees, the cool stone biting into his skin, but he didn't care. His hands pressed together, and his eyes — wide, trembling, and wet — locked on the face of the god.
"Lord Vishwa," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I… I want to meet you."
The words tumbled out of him, unplanned, but they felt right. He didn't know why, but standing here, he felt the god was listening.
"You… you are the solution to the war," Vid continued, the tears now spilling freely. "Everyone's afraid… the Gangi Valley, the people… if we lose, they'll all suffer. I don't want to see anyone else die. Not like before. Not again."
The image of his past — flashes of blood, screams, and fire — stabbed into his mind. His fists tightened until his nails dug into his palms. He bowed his head so low it almost touched the floor, the cold marble a sharp contrast to the burning in his chest.
"I'm not strong enough yet," Vid admitted, the words tasting bitter. "I've only just begun my training. But I promise you… I will become stronger. Strong enough to protect everyone. Strong enough to end this war."
He raised his head again, looking up into the god's calm, unblinking eyes.
"I will become the strongest archer in the world," he vowed, each syllable firm now, his tears drying into resolve. "And when the time comes… I will stand in the front lines and face whatever darkness comes for this land. Even if it kills me."
The chamber seemed to grow warmer for a moment, as if the god had acknowledged his words. A faint golden light flickered across the statue's bow, but Vid didn't notice — his eyes were closed, his head bowed again in silent prayer.
Behind him, Vick's gaze softened. In Vid's trembling voice, he heard the seed of something unshakable — the kind of determination that could move mountains and decide the fate of kingdoms. He knew the boy's path would be long, brutal, and filled with pain… but he also knew that such vows, once made before the gods, had a way of shaping destiny itself.
When Vid finally rose to his feet, he felt… lighter. His chest still carried the weight of the war, but beneath it was a solid core of purpose. He turned to Vick, wiping his eyes but not his determination.
"Let's go," he said simply.
Vick nodded. "We will," he replied, his voice low but steady. "But remember this, Vid — the god listens, yes… but He also tests. You've made a promise here, and the road ahead will not be easy."
Vid gave a small, almost defiant smile. "I'm ready for the test."
As they turned to leave, the sound of a temple bell rang out from the outer courtyard — deep, resonant, and long-lasting. To Vid, it didn't feel like just a call for the evening prayer. It felt like an answer.
And though the war in Gangi Valley was only three days away, Vid no longer felt like a boy being dragged into battle. He was walking toward it, head held high, with a vow carved into his heart — one that even death would have to break before he let go.
The moon had just risen, silver light spilling over the cracked stones of the ancient path. Vid and Vick had spent the day wandering from the temple's holy chamber into the surrounding lands. They were following a routine Vick insisted upon — meditation, observation, and movement. "To prepare for war," Vick said, "you must learn to be aware of every corner of the world, even the corners hidden in shadow."
They walked in silence for hours, the cool evening air carrying the scents of damp earth and incense from the temple far behind them. Vid felt the exhaustion in his legs, but his mind was strangely clear. The day's events — the sage's cryptic words, the vision of the future war, the promise before Lord Vishwa — all swirled in his head like currents of a deep river.
They stopped by a small clearing surrounded by tall, twisted sal trees. The branches swayed with the whisper of the wind, and the forest seemed to breathe with them.
"Sit," Vick ordered softly. "This is where we meditate tonight."
Vid folded his legs under him and closed his eyes. The night was quiet… too quiet.
Vick sat nearby, his breathing slow and steady. "Feel the air," he said in a low tone. "Let it tell you what it hides."
For a while, Vid focused on the rhythm of his breath. Inhale… exhale… the sound of leaves brushing each other in the wind… the faint chirp of insects in the grass… the creak of an old branch overhead—
A sudden thrum rippled through the air. It wasn't the wind.
Vid's eyes snapped open.
The trees around them shivered, and a strange static began to crawl across his skin. His hair rose slightly, as if some unseen hand had brushed against him. A faint blue glow flickered in the distance, weaving between the trunks.
Vick's eyes narrowed. "We're not alone."
Then it came.
From between the trees, a shadow moved — not walking, but gliding, each motion unnervingly smooth. Its form was vaguely animal, vaguely human, yet too distorted to belong to either. Tall, hunched, with elongated limbs ending in claws that shimmered faintly. Its skin was like blackened stone, cracked with thin, jagged lines of lightning running through it.
"Predh…" Vick breathed, his voice grim.
Vid had never heard the word, but his body reacted before his mind caught up. Every muscle tensed, his instincts screaming run.
The creature's head turned sharply toward them, and the faint blue veins across its body flared brighter. A sound rose from deep within it — not a roar, not a growl, but something in between, layered with a low, electric hum that made Vid's teeth ache.
"Don't move," Vick whispered.
The Predh stepped forward, the ground hissing under its feet as though the soil itself feared it. Then, without warning, it raised one long, crackling arm to the sky.
The forest exploded in light.
A bolt of lightning tore downward with a deafening CRACK, striking the ground mere feet from them. Dirt and stone erupted into the air. Vid was thrown backward, his ears ringing, the smell of burning earth flooding his nose.
Before he could regain his balance, another flash came — brighter, faster — but this one struck directly at them. Vick shoved Vid hard to the side, and the world seemed to split apart in a roar of thunder. The shockwave rolled through them, hot and suffocating, lifting them from the ground like rag dolls.
Vid saw the sky spin. He saw Vick's figure tumbling nearby, his cloak snapping in the air. He saw the Predh still advancing, eyes like burning storms.
Pain lanced through Vid's side as he hit the ground, sliding across wet leaves. The moment he tried to stand, another strike came — this one hitting a tree behind him, splitting it clean in half. The scent of charred wood mixed with the ozone-heavy air.
Vick staggered to his feet, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Vid — run!"
But Vid couldn't move. His legs felt rooted, his mind locked on the creature's slow, deliberate steps toward them.
The Predh raised its claw again, the crackling light gathering at its fingertips. Time seemed to slow — the glow brightened, the hum deepened, and Vid felt the air itself tighten around him.
Then the bolt struck.
It wasn't just light and heat — it was force. A violent, unrelenting surge that slammed into both of them, tearing them off their feet and flinging them into the darkness beyond the clearing.
Vid's vision swam — flashes of trees, the moon, Vick's hand reaching for him — before everything went black.