Rudra finally found his voice.
"Umm… sir, I… I am… my name is Rudra Rajput," he said, his words trembling.
"I idolize you, my lord. It was my dream to meet you at least once in my life. To see you in person and talk with you. But it feels sad that I am meeting you like this. Mm… am I dead, my lord?"
As Rudra spoke, Shiv began to take on a form familiar to their followers.
They stood barefoot upon the sacred ground. Around their right ankle rested an anklet shaped like a serpent, its form intricate and alive. It was eating its tail as if showing that beginning and end meet at sometime. A cloth of tiger skin was wrapped around their waist, held in place by a waistband that shimmered with a silver like sheen. It was not truly silver, yet it carried a presence as if every soul in the universe had willingly offered itself to become part of it.
On their left arm was a serpent shaped as bangle. Skulls were joined together as a garland around their neck, among which rested Vasuki Naag. No matter how hard Rudra tried, he could not distinguish Vasuki's colour. It seemed to shift endlessly, refusing definition.
They had three eyes. Two rested in their usual place, calm and observant. The third eye at the centre of their forehead remained closed, with three horizontal ash lines, for which Rudra felt an unspoken relief.
A crescent moon adorned their head. Water flowed continuously from their matted hair, cascading like an eternal river. In their hand they held the Trishul, the famed trident, with the Damru bound to it.
Their body was chiselled, sculpted as if by heaven itself. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that they themselves were heaven. Sacred ash coated their form, giving them the timeless and unmistakable appearance worshipped across ages.
They smiled gently.
"No," they said.
"You are not dead. You are safe. You may return to your home whenever you wish. But you do not want that, do you?"
Hearing this, Rudra felt both relief and sadness wash over him.
He was human. And greed was part of being human.
He wanted something. A gift. A boon.
The thought filled him with guilt and shame. He felt unworthy, ashamed that someone who called himself a follower and devoted admirer of Shiv was secretly hoping to receive something in return.
The thoughts flowing through Rudra's mind did not escape Shiv.
They were amused.
They had existed since the beginning of the universe, even before beginnings held meaning. To them, Rudra was merely a child standing before their parents, too embarrassed to ask for the gift he desired most. He was younger than even a fraction of their own existence.
They knew every wish within his heart. Many were fleeting and random, but one shone brighter than all the rest. Seeing that wish pleased them.
Even if Rudra had asked for something grand and absurd, they would have granted it. They were not called Bhole Shankar without reason.
Seeing that the child before them was still trapped in hesitation, Shiv spoke again.
"Speak, child. There is no need to be afraid. I will not judge you. You are only a child to me."
Seeing the genuine smile upon the face of his God, Rudra finally steeled his resolve.
"My lord," he said, bowing slightly,
"I want to travel back in time, to the beginning of Earth. I want to see and feel the era when gods walked upon the land. I want to witness history as it was being made."