Ganesh woke before dawn.
The cave was quiet, the embers glowing faintly, casting soft light on stone walls. His body felt heavy, not with pain, but with a strange fullness—like something vast had settled within him during the night.
He remembered.
Not everything.
But enough.
The battlefield.
The wandering warrior.
The dying breath in Kali Yuga.
The infinite compassion before him.
And the voice:
Ask for a boon.
His chest tightened.
He sat up slowly, heart pounding.
Across from him, Mahadev sat in stillness, eyes closed, as if he had never moved.
Ganesh rose and bowed deeply.
"Gurudev… I remember," he said softly.
Shiva opened his eyes.
They were calm.
"You remember that you have walked before," Mahadev said.
"Not yet who you were."
Ganesh nodded. "Yes. It feels like carrying a mountain in my chest."
A faint smile touched Shiva's lips.
"That is the fire of memory."
"If you cling to it, it will burn you."
"If you ignore it, it will rot."
"You must learn to carry it."
Ganesh swallowed. "Teach me, Gurudev."
Shiva rose.
"Then come."
They stepped out into the pale blue light of dawn.
The mountain stretched endlessly, peaks glowing faintly as the sun rose behind clouds. Wind whispered through the stone, cold and sharp.
Shiva walked toward an open plateau of ice and rock.
Ganesh followed.
They stopped at the center of the plateau.
Shiva turned to him.
"Stand."
Ganesh stood.
Shiva circled him slowly.
"Close your eyes."
Ganesh did.
"Call the fire you felt last night," Shiva said.
"Do not imagine it."
"Do not force it."
"Let it rise."
Ganesh focused inward.
At first, there was nothing.
Then… warmth.
Deep in his chest, a slow, heavy heat began to glow. Not burning, but intense, like a coal buried beneath ash.
The images from his past flickered again.
Battles.
Wandering.
Death.
The gaze of Shiva.
His breath quickened.
The warmth surged.
Ganesh gasped as the heat spread through his body, racing through veins, limbs, heart.
His knees trembled.
"Gurudev… it's too much," he whispered.
Shiva's voice was steady.
"Do not push it away."
"Do not embrace it."
"Stand within it."
Ganesh clenched his fists and stood.
The heat roared within him like a storm.
For a moment, he felt invincible.
I walked before. I survived death. I have walked with devas and asuras, a voice whispered within.
Pride rose.
Shiva's voice struck like thunder.
"Who feels invincible?"
The question cut deep.
Ganesh froze.
Who was feeling this?
The fire?
The memory?
Or the idea of himself?
He took a shaking breath.
"I… I don't know."
"Then let it burn without a face," Shiva said.
Ganesh closed his eyes again.
He let go of the images.
The names.
The sense of being special.
Slowly, the heat settled.
Still strong.
But no longer raging.
He stood, breathing hard.
Shiva nodded once.
"This is how you carry fire."
"Not as 'yours.'"
Ganesh bowed.
"I understand… a little."
The training that followed was relentless.
Shiva pushed Ganesh harder than ever before.
He made him run across narrow ridges where one misstep meant death.
He made him stand beneath freezing waterfalls until his body went numb, then fight through the numbness to move.
He made him spar—barehanded, with staff, with stone weights tied to his limbs.
But now, there was something new.
Each time Ganesh faltered, Shiva would say:
"Do not fight as a boy of this life."
"Do not fight as the warrior of another."
"Fight as the one who is here."
Ganesh struggled to understand.
In sparring, he would sometimes feel old instincts rise—moves that did not belong to his present training, techniques from another age.
They felt powerful.
Deadly.
But when he used them, Shiva would stop him at once.
"No," Mahadev would say.
"That is memory leading."
Once, when Ganesh struck with such force that the air cracked, Shiva caught his arm effortlessly.
The impact sent shockwaves through the plateau.
Ganesh stared, breath ragged.
"That… came from before," he whispered.
Shiva held his gaze.
"Yes."
"And if you let it rule you, you will become a ghost walking in a new body."
Ganesh lowered his head.
"I don't want that."
Shiva released him.
"Then learn to let memory serve… not command."
By midday, Ganesh collapsed on the stone, every muscle screaming.
Shiva stood over him.
"Why do you keep rising?" Mahadev asked.
Ganesh gasped for breath. "Because… if I don't… I'll drown in what I remember."
Shiva nodded.
"Good."
He sat beside Ganesh.
For a rare moment, there was rest.
Ganesh stared at the sky.
"Gurudev… will more memories return?"
Shiva looked at the peaks.
"Yes."
Ganesh's chest tightened.
"When?"
"When you no longer need them to know who you are."
Ganesh smiled faintly. "That sounds far away."
Shiva looked at him.
"Everything true is far… until it is not."
In the afternoon, Shiva led him to a narrow ledge overlooking a vast valley.
Clouds drifted below like a white ocean.
Shiva stood at the edge.
"Come."
Ganesh stepped beside him, heart pounding.
Shiva looked down.
"Jump."
Ganesh stared. "Jump… Gurudev?"
Shiva nodded.
"Yes."
Fear surged instantly.
"There is nothing below but mist," Ganesh said. "I'll die."
Shiva's eyes burned.
"Who will die?"
The same question again.
Ganesh trembled.
He looked down, then back at Shiva.
"I don't know," he whispered.
Shiva's voice softened.
"Then let the one who does not know… jump."
Ganesh closed his eyes.
He took a deep breath.
And stepped forward.
The world vanished.
Wind roared past him.
His stomach lurched as he fell.
Fear exploded.
Then—
He remembered.
Do not cling.
He let go.
The fear loosened.
And suddenly, he was no longer falling.
He was standing.
On solid ground.
He opened his eyes.
He stood back on the plateau.
Shiva stood before him, unmoved.
Ganesh gasped, looking around.
"I… I didn't fall."
Shiva nodded.
"You did."
"And you did not."
Ganesh laughed shakily.
"I don't understand."
Shiva smiled faintly.
"Good."
As evening came, they returned to the cave.
Ganesh collapsed near the fire, exhausted beyond words.
Yet within him, the fire of memory burned steady.
Not raging.
Not fading.
Simply there.
Shiva sat before him.
"Today, you learned to carry fire."
"Tomorrow, you will learn to wield it… without becoming it."
Ganesh bowed deeply.
"Yes, Gurudev."
As he lay down, eyes heavy, he felt something new within.
Not just memory.
Purpose.
He did not yet know the shape of his destiny.
But he knew this:
He was no longer just walking the road.
He was being forged upon it.