The silence in Shaurya's chambers was a physical weight, heavy with five thousand years of memories. He stood by the window, the star-metal bracelet cold against his skin, his gaze fixed on the distant mortal realm. Every second felt like an eternity. The knowledge that Advik was down there, living and breathing, was a torment worse than any celestial punishment.
The door opened without a sound. Tejas entered, his presence as steadying as ever. He didn't speak, simply coming to stand beside his brother, following his gaze to the swirling blues and greens of Earth.
"He is twenty-four years today," Shaurya's voice was rough, stripped bare of its usual composure. "I have missed his entire life."
"You had no choice," Tejas said, his voice low. "The Council's decree—"
"I do not care about the Council's decree!" Shaurya's control finally snapped. He turned, his eyes blazing with a desperate fire Tejas had not seen in millennia. "I cannot stand here any longer, polishing my sword in this gilded cage while he lives a life I cannot share! I need to see him, Bhayya. Not as a newborn, but as the man he has become. Just once."
Tejas saw the raw agony in his brother's eyes—the same agony that had haunted him for eons. He saw the legendary warrior, the pride of Swarg, brought to his knees by a love that defied all laws. His own heart ached in response.
He placed his hands on Shaurya's shoulders, his grip firm. "Listen to me. The Council will never grant you permission for a personal visit. But... a threat to the mortal realm, one that requires the expertise of our finest warrior... that, they cannot ignore."
A spark of understanding lit Shaurya's eyes. "What are you saying?"
"I am saying, little brother," Tejas said, a calculated gleam in his own eyes, "that my scouts have reported unstable demonic activity near the mortal settlement of Haridwar. A rogue entity, perhaps a lesser Asur, poisoning the spiritual sanctity of the land. It is a mission that demands subtlety and power. A mission for you."
It was a risk. A deception that could see them both punished if discovered. But the look of devastating hope on Shaurya's face made it worth it.
---
The scene in the grand Sabha was a masterclass in performance. Tejas stood before Indra, his demeanor all military efficiency.
"Lord Indra," he began, his voice echoing in the hall. "My scouts confirm a destabilizing demonic presence near the mortal city of Haridwar. Its energy is corrosive, attacking the very spiritual foundations of the land. I recommend we send a senior warrior to assess and neutralize the threat with minimal disruption."
Indra's eyes narrowed with interest. "A demon so close to a holy site? Who do you propose?"
"Commander Shaurya," Tejas said without hesitation. "His knowledge of Asur tactics is unmatched. His power, even cloaked, is sufficient for such a threat. And his discretion is absolute. He can enter, eliminate the problem, and return before the mortals are even aware."
Indra pondered for a moment, his gaze shifting to Shaurya, who stood with his head bowed, the picture of dutiful obedience. "A swift mission. In and out. Seven days, Shaurya. No more."
Shaurya bowed deeply, hiding the tumultuous relief in his eyes. "As you command, Devraj Indra."
---
The journey through the Celestial Transit Point was a violent, disorienting rush. Shaurya felt his divine essence being compressed, folded away into a mortal-compatible shell. It was an uncomfortable, vulnerable sensation, like having his wings bound.
He landed with a soft impact on the damp earth of the Ganges riverbank. The air was thick, laden with the smells of soil, water, and humanity—a stark contrast to the pristine ether of Swarg. The sounds were a cacophony to his sensitive hearing: chirping birds, rustling leaves, the distant hum of a city, and the sacred flow of the river.
He was here. He was on Earth.
His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat of anticipation and fear. He closed his eyes, focusing not on his official mission to find a non-existent demon, but on the singular, magnetic pull in his soul. The pull that had guided him across the cosmos.
Advik.
He started walking, his steps swift and sure, following an invisible thread that led him away from the river, through sleeping streets, and towards the towering spires of Vasant Mahal.
He found himself in the royal gardens, hidden in the shadows of the very banyan tree where, in another lifetime, they had met in secret. His enhanced senses reached out, searching, yearning.
And then, he felt it.
A presence. A soul-song he would recognize across a thousand lifetimes.
His gaze snapped upwards, towards the highest balcony of the palace.
There he was.
Not a child. Not a memory.
A man.
Clad in black, silhouetted against the brilliant moon, his form was both familiar and new. The set of his shoulders, the curve of his jaw—it was all his Advik. But older. More defined. Carrying a weight of silent sorrow that mirrored his own.
Shaurya's breath caught in his throat. Five thousand years of waiting, of grieving, of clinging to a ghost, collapsed into this single, heart-stopping moment.
He didn't think. He didn't plan.
He simply materialized on the rooftop, a few paces behind him, allowing his presence to be felt.
The man—Advik—who had been lost in his communion with the moon, stiffened. He felt it—a shift in the air, a warmth that had no place in the cool night. A familiarity so profound it made his heart clench.
He slowly turned.
And there he was. A figure of silver and starlight, standing as if woven from the very fabric of the night. His eyes... his eyes held universes of sorrow and a love so deep it was a physical ache.
Their gazes locked.
No words were spoken. None were needed.
Shaurya's eyes, the stoic warrior's eyes that had remained dry through battles and exile, now welled up with tears that shimmered like liquid starlight. They did not fall; they simply filled his eyes, making them glow with an unspoken history of love, loss, and an endless wait.
And Advik... Advik, who cried every night without reason, now found the source of his endless tears. As he looked into the stranger's eyes, a dam broke within him. Silent tears streamed down his face, hot and urgent, as if his soul was weeping in recognition of its other half. There was no fear, only an overwhelming, heartbreaking sense of homecoming. A missing piece of his very being had just clicked into place, and the relief was so immense it could only express itself through tears.
The moon bathed them in its silvery light, a silent witness to a reunion that defied time, realms, and memory itself. Five thousand years of separation collapsed into a single, silent, tear-filled glance where everything was said, and nothing was spoken.
The night held its breath, cradling the two souls who had finally found their way back to each other.
---
Chapter End :
After five thousand years, they stood face to face—a god in mortal disguise, and a prince with a forgotten past. No memories, no explanations, just a truth that resonated in their very souls. But as their silent tears fell under the watchful moon, a dangerous question hung in the air between them: Now that they had found each other, what came next?