Arjun Mehra knelt on the pebbled ghat of Prayag Ghat, the rusted Arrow of Dhanur clutched in his hand, its bow symbol glinting under the dawn's soft glow. The river churned before him, its waters streaked with black tendrils from the asura prince's curse, like ink smudging a Pongal kolam drawn with care. The sadhus' chants rose, their voices weaving a tapestry of devotion, but the Vedic System's warning—Curse Intensifying. Seal the River's Prana—pulsed in his vision, his Karma Points at 390 and Prana Gauge at 50%. The arrowhead's weight stirred memories of his past-life vision: a warrior, himself, nocking an arrow against an asura's shadow. Your heart betrayed, the vision had whispered. Arjun's chest tightened, like when he'd avoided his father's calls after flunking an exam. What did I betray?
Priya stood by the shrine, its peacock-feather carvings glowing faintly, inspired by Karnataka's Hoysala temples with their intricate stonework. Her trishul rested against the shrine, her armor gleaming despite the scratches from last night's battle. Her eyes, usually sharp as a Mylapore market vendor's, held a flicker of hope. "The ritual's almost complete," she said, her voice softer, like his mother's when she'd narrate Ramayana tales. "Your chant started the purification. Now, we seal the river's prana with a ward." She paused, her braid still as she met his gaze. "I trained for years to guard relics like this. You're doing it in days. Don't let it go to your head."
Arjun grinned, the arrowhead warm in his palm. "Me? Cocky? Never." But her praise sparked a warmth, like sharing Pongal sweets with his sister Dipti. He glanced at the river, its black tendrils coiling tighter. "So, what's the plan? More chanting? I'm not exactly a temple pandit."
Priya pointed to the shrine's tablet, its runes pulsing like Bengaluru's neon signs at dusk. "Place the arrowhead in the center. It's tied to your past life—a key to the ward. Then use your Vedic Insight to align the prana flows." She hesitated, her fingers brushing a scar on her wrist. "My last ward failed because I rushed. Don't make my mistake."
Arjun nodded, her vulnerability hitting like a quiet moment during a family puja. He approached the tablet, the system's Vedic Insight skill sharpening his senses, making the river's prana visible as streams of blue light, tangled by the curse's darkness. He placed the arrowhead in a carved groove, and the shrine hummed, its runes flaring. But a melodic laugh, sweet as a Carnatic raga, interrupted the ritual.
A figure materialized on the ghat—a gandharva, his golden robes flowing like silk at a Chennai silk emporium, his eyes shimmering with illusion. "Mortals meddling with prana?" he sang, his voice hypnotic. "The asura prince offers me freedom if I stop you." He waved a hand, and the ghat dissolved into a mirage: the river turned to fire, the sadhus vanished, and Priya stood frozen, her trishul replaced by a lotus flower.
Arjun's heart raced, like dodging scooters in Delhi's Chandni Chowk. "Nice trick, raga boy," he called, his Vedic Insight cutting through the illusion, revealing faint prana threads tethering the gandharva's spell. "But I've haggled with worse." He focused, picturing his uncle's chess games, where every move countered another. "Om Namo Narayana," he chanted, not for power but clarity, the rune's rhythm steadying him. The system pinged: Vedic Insight: Illusion Weakened. Karma Points: +30.
The ghat flickered back, Priya shaking off the lotus illusion, her trishul reappearing. "Clever," she said, lunging at the gandharva. He vanished, reappearing on the riverbank, conjuring a swarm of illusory asuras, their spears glinting. Priya parried, her movements like a Bharatanatyam dancer's, but the illusions multiplied, overwhelming her.
Arjun's mind raced, his Delhi street-smarts kicking in. Illusions are like market scams—find the source. Using Vedic Insight, he spotted a glowing orb in the gandharva's hand, pulsing with prana. "Priya, the orb!" he shouted, dodging an illusory spear. He grabbed a clay lamp from the ghat, its flame flickering like a Pongal offering, and hurled it at the orb. It shattered, the illusions dissolving, and the gandharva shrieked, fleeing into the river's mist.
The system chimed: Enemy Neutralized. Karma Points: +50. New Reward: Ward of Narayana. Priya caught her breath, her eyes wide with approval. "You're learning, market boy." She knelt by the tablet, guiding Arjun's hand to trace the final runes. "Chant with me. Seal the ward."
Together, they chanted Om Namo Narayana, their voices blending like a temple chorus. The river's black tendrils vanished, its waters glowing blue, like the Krishna River at dusk. The shrine's runes flared, forming a protective ward that pulsed across the ghat. The system updated: River's Prana Sealed. Karma Points: +80. Quest Complete.
But the river rippled, and a new vision hit Arjun: the warrior Arjuna, kneeling before a blue-skinned figure—Vishnu, his eyes kind but stern. "Your vow to protect my realm stands, but your heart wavered," Vishnu said. The arrowhead in Arjun's hand glowed, revealing a carved name: Dhanurveda. The system glitched: Past Life Artifact: Confirmed. Vow to Vishnu Unlocked.
Arjun staggered, guilt flooding him, like when he'd lied to Dipti about studying. "I… vowed to Vishnu?" he whispered. "And failed?"
Priya's hand rested on his shoulder, her touch steady. "You're not that Arjuna yet," she said, her voice warm but firm. "But you're becoming him." She pointed to the river, where a dark shape moved—a serpent, massive, its scales glinting like a naga king's. The asura prince's voice echoed, not from the sky but the water. "The river is yours, but the war is mine, Arjuna."
The system flashed: New Quest: Confront the Naga King. Warning: Asura Influence Detected. The sadhus' chants faltered, and the ghat's lamps flickered. Priya gripped her trishul, her hope tempered by duty. "We sealed the river, but he's not done. Are you ready, Arjun?"
Arjun clutched the arrowhead, its glow like a star over Karnataka's hills. Determination surged, mixed with guilt over a vow he didn't understand. I'm no epic hero, but I won't let Priya fight alone. "Let's face this snake," he said, his voice steady as a sadhu's chant.