Chapter 30:
The Desert That Finally Breathed ◢
Tatva- The Awakening of Elements
The sun rose slowly over Ravika painting the dunes in molten gold. The sand was calm again—no illusions crawling, no shadows whispering, no phantom screams echoing from the mountains. For the first time in decades, the desert village was… quiet.
And Kedar opened his eyes.
He lay on a woven cot inside an old hut. Bandages wrapped his arms, his ribs ached, and his head felt like hot iron. But more than anything, the silence told him the fight was truly over.
A familiar voice croaked beside him.“Finally awake, boy.”
It was the old woman — the same elder who had greeted him on his first day here. But today her eyes were brighter. Younger, almost. The curse’s weight had lifted from her too.
Kedar tried to sit up but groaned.“Where… where am I?”
“In the healer’s hut,” she replied. “It’s been two days. You collapsed near the ruins. The ground shook so violently that half the village ran thinking the world was ending.”
Kedar’s gaze wandered to the doorway. The wind outside whispered differently now. Free.
“Did anyone go to the mountain?” Kedar asked, voice tight.
The old woman shook her head.“No one dares. But…” She hesitated. “The illusions that haunted us — they stopped that same night. The sky cleared. The winds changed direction. People are calling it a blessing.”
Kedar lowered his eyes.A blessing bought with a cursed prince’s final breath.
---
A BURIAL WITHOUT A BODY
The villagers gathered outside near a pyre-shaped altar made of stones and dried desert flowers. Since Manikanta had no body left — only fading golden dust — Kedar requested a symbolic farewell.
An elder stepped forward, holding a lamp.
“Who do we honor today?” the elder asked.
Kedar inhaled sharply.
He could not speak the prince’s entire tragic story.
But he whispered the only words Manikanta had asked for before fading.
“Manikanta…The Lonely Mirage.”
A ripple of sorrow passed through the villagers, even though they didn’t know who he was — or what he had once been.
The pyre was lit.
The desert wind carried the flames upward, then gently scattered them like falling stars. Kedar watched, silent. His fists clenched. His throat burned.
He remembered Manikanta’s last words:
“Don’t become like me… Don’t die unseen.”
Kedar whispered back, barely audible,“I won’t.”
---
THE VILLAGE RETURNS TO LIFE
Over the next few days:
The dunes no longer shifted unnaturally.
Children played outside for the first time in years.
Farmers reclaimed the broken wells.
Merchants arrived without being driven away by nightmares.
The village chief approached Kedar while he rested under a shade cloth.
“You saved our homes, young warrior. We have little to give, but our hearts are open to you.”
Kedar bowed slightly. “I only did what was right.”
The chief smiled.“That is why the spirits favored you.”
---
KEDAR’S INTERNAL RECOVERY
At night, Kedar wandered outside, looking at the stars.
He remembered the illusions:His father’s voice.His clan’s burning ruins.Shadows wearing the faces of people he thought were dead.
And he realized something frightening:
Mayan didn’t create those memories.They were already inside him.
Kedar placed a palm on the ground.
“Fire Prana… Rosha…Why do you awaken at moments I don’t understand?”
The desert offered no answer.
Only silence.
Only peace.
---
A GIFT LEFT BEHIND
On his last morning in the village, one of the children ran toward him.
“Brother Kedar! We found something in the sand where the old palace fell!”
Kedar knelt as the child handed him a small, cracked pendant — shaped like an old royal crest.
His eyes widened.
Manikanta’s crest.
On the back, faintly etched:
“May the Mirage guard the ones walking in real darkness.”
Kedar closed his fist around it.
“…Thank you, Prince.”
---
THE ROAD BACK
With his pack slung on his shoulder, Kedar stood at the start of the desert trail — the one leading back to Guru Parshu’s Ashram.
The village gathered to see him off.
The chief called out,“You are always welcome here.”
The children waved leaves and cloth ribbons as if sending off a hero from a story.
Kedar turned, smiled faintly, and bowed.
Then he started walking.
One step.Another.Leaving behind the desert, the illusions, the prince… and perhaps a small part of his own inner darkness.
But as he reached the rocky pass, he paused.
Something cold brushed the back of his neck.
A presence.
A whisper.
A faint, distorted voice on the wind:
“…He is watching you… Kedar…”
Kedar narrowed his eyes.
Not Manikanta’s voice.
Not an illusion.
Something far older.Something that had cursed a prince, enslaved a palace, and was now turning its gaze on him.
A shadow on the horizon pulsed once — like a heartbeat.
Kedar gripped the pendant tightly.
“Then let him watch.”
With that, he stepped forward.
To be continued...With a new and last arc of this volume The undefeated warrior -GarudaHope you like my last arc of this volume 😁💓
And Kedar opened his eyes.
He lay on a woven cot inside an old hut. Bandages wrapped his arms, his ribs ached, and his head felt like hot iron. But more than anything, the silence told him the fight was truly over.
A familiar voice croaked beside him.“Finally awake, boy.”
It was the old woman — the same elder who had greeted him on his first day here. But today her eyes were brighter. Younger, almost. The curse’s weight had lifted from her too.
Kedar tried to sit up but groaned.“Where… where am I?”
“In the healer’s hut,” she replied. “It’s been two days. You collapsed near the ruins. The ground shook so violently that half the village ran thinking the world was ending.”
Kedar’s gaze wandered to the doorway. The wind outside whispered differently now. Free.
“Did anyone go to the mountain?” Kedar asked, voice tight.
The old woman shook her head.“No one dares. But…” She hesitated. “The illusions that haunted us — they stopped that same night. The sky cleared. The winds changed direction. People are calling it a blessing.”
Kedar lowered his eyes.A blessing bought with a cursed prince’s final breath.
---
A BURIAL WITHOUT A BODY
The villagers gathered outside near a pyre-shaped altar made of stones and dried desert flowers. Since Manikanta had no body left — only fading golden dust — Kedar requested a symbolic farewell.
An elder stepped forward, holding a lamp.
“Who do we honor today?” the elder asked.
Kedar inhaled sharply.
He could not speak the prince’s entire tragic story.
But he whispered the only words Manikanta had asked for before fading.
“Manikanta…The Lonely Mirage.”
A ripple of sorrow passed through the villagers, even though they didn’t know who he was — or what he had once been.
The pyre was lit.
The desert wind carried the flames upward, then gently scattered them like falling stars. Kedar watched, silent. His fists clenched. His throat burned.
He remembered Manikanta’s last words:
“Don’t become like me… Don’t die unseen.”
Kedar whispered back, barely audible,“I won’t.”
---
THE VILLAGE RETURNS TO LIFE
Over the next few days:
The dunes no longer shifted unnaturally.
Children played outside for the first time in years.
Farmers reclaimed the broken wells.
Merchants arrived without being driven away by nightmares.
The village chief approached Kedar while he rested under a shade cloth.
“You saved our homes, young warrior. We have little to give, but our hearts are open to you.”
Kedar bowed slightly. “I only did what was right.”
The chief smiled.“That is why the spirits favored you.”
---
KEDAR’S INTERNAL RECOVERY
At night, Kedar wandered outside, looking at the stars.
He remembered the illusions:His father’s voice.His clan’s burning ruins.Shadows wearing the faces of people he thought were dead.
And he realized something frightening:
Mayan didn’t create those memories.They were already inside him.
Kedar placed a palm on the ground.
“Fire Prana… Rosha…Why do you awaken at moments I don’t understand?”
The desert offered no answer.
Only silence.
Only peace.
---
A GIFT LEFT BEHIND
On his last morning in the village, one of the children ran toward him.
“Brother Kedar! We found something in the sand where the old palace fell!”
Kedar knelt as the child handed him a small, cracked pendant — shaped like an old royal crest.
His eyes widened.
Manikanta’s crest.
On the back, faintly etched:
“May the Mirage guard the ones walking in real darkness.”
Kedar closed his fist around it.
“…Thank you, Prince.”
---
THE ROAD BACK
With his pack slung on his shoulder, Kedar stood at the start of the desert trail — the one leading back to Guru Parshu’s Ashram.
The village gathered to see him off.
The chief called out,“You are always welcome here.”
The children waved leaves and cloth ribbons as if sending off a hero from a story.
Kedar turned, smiled faintly, and bowed.
Then he started walking.
One step.Another.Leaving behind the desert, the illusions, the prince… and perhaps a small part of his own inner darkness.
But as he reached the rocky pass, he paused.
Something cold brushed the back of his neck.
A presence.
A whisper.
A faint, distorted voice on the wind:
“…He is watching you… Kedar…”
Kedar narrowed his eyes.
Not Manikanta’s voice.
Not an illusion.
Something far older.Something that had cursed a prince, enslaved a palace, and was now turning its gaze on him.
A shadow on the horizon pulsed once — like a heartbeat.
Kedar gripped the pendant tightly.
“Then let him watch.”
With that, he stepped forward.
To be continued...With a new and last arc of this volume The undefeated warrior -GarudaHope you like my last arc of this volume 😁💓
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