The quiet aftermath of the battle hung over the forest like a heavy mist. Kalki's body felt like stone, the weight of the relic in his hand grounding him in the present, but his mind wandered into the fog of the past—those whispers of doubt still clinging to the edges of his thoughts.
Parashurama stood silently beside him, his eyes scanning the forest, always vigilant. The beasts had vanished into the ether, but their presence lingered, like a scar that wouldn't fade.
"What were those things?" Kalki asked, his voice barely breaking the silence. His muscles still ached, but it was the mental strain that weighed heavier on him. The visions...the doubts they stirred, they felt too real.
"Echoes of a time long gone," Parashurama replied, his tone distant. "They were born from the sins of men. During the war that nearly ended this world, those who died with greed and hatred in their hearts left behind shadows—remnants of their dark desires. Over time, they festered, growing stronger in places forgotten by the gods. They feed on the doubts of those who face them."
Kalki absorbed this, staring at the ground. His hand unconsciously tightened around the relic. "I saw Kali...or what I thought was him."
Parashurama's eyes shifted toward him. "That was your mind playing tricks on you, nothing more. The real Kali is far more dangerous than any illusion."
A silence fell between them, thick with unspoken thoughts. Kalki knew Parashurama was right, but the vision had felt too vivid to dismiss easily. He had seen Kali's face, heard his voice, mocking him with a chilling certainty.
Kalki's voice was low, almost afraid of his own words. "What if I'm not strong enough when the time comes?"
Parashurama turned sharply, his gaze piercing. "Strength isn't just in the arm that swings the sword, Kalki. It's in the heart that beats through fear. It's in the mind that doesn't break when darkness closes in. Remember that."
Kalki nodded, though a lingering uncertainty remained. He had faced countless challenges in his short life, but this one felt different. The path ahead was shrouded in shadow, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling that something far darker than beasts of the past awaited him.
A New Direction
As they began to walk back through the forest, the atmosphere remained heavy. The trees loomed tall, their twisted branches casting long shadows across the path. Kalki could feel the relic pulsing faintly against his skin, its energy still raw from the battle.
"Where do we go now?" Kalki asked, breaking the silence.
Parashurama glanced ahead, his eyes narrowing as though peering into a distant horizon only he could see. "Your training is not yet complete. But before you can face the next step, there is something we must retrieve. Something that has been waiting for you."
Kalki raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
"A weapon," Parashurama said, his tone grave. "A blade forged by the gods themselves, designed for one purpose—defeating Kali."
Kalki's eyes widened. "A weapon?"
Parashurama nodded. "Yes. It's hidden deep in the mountains of Ashvattha, guarded by ancient forces. To retrieve it will be no small feat. But it is a weapon that will amplify your strength. Without it, defeating Kali will be impossible."
Kalki felt a strange mix of excitement and anxiety. A divine weapon? It sounded like the stuff of legends, but he knew better than to question the reality of such things in this world. If the relic he held was anything to go by, there were powers far beyond mortal comprehension at play.
"How do we find it?" Kalki asked, eager to press forward.
Parashurama's eyes gleamed with a knowledge Kalki couldn't quite grasp. "We don't find it. It finds you. But first, you must be tested."
The idea of yet another test weighed heavy on Kalki's mind, but he steeled himself. If this was the path he had to walk, so be it. He had faced worse, and the stakes were too high to falter now.
Ashvattha Awaits
The journey to Ashvattha would be long and treacherous, Parashurama had warned him. It was a place older than most knew, a mountain that stood as a bridge between the mortal world and the divine. Legends spoke of the great tree that grew there—Ashvattha, the sacred fig tree whose roots touched the heavens and whose branches reached into the underworld.
As they prepared to set off, Kalki found himself deep in thought. The encounters he had faced so far were mere glimpses of the true war ahead. The relic he held was powerful, yes, but incomplete. It had taught him much, but without the weapon Parashurama spoke of, the full extent of his destiny would remain out of reach.
"This weapon," Kalki began, breaking the silence as they walked through the dense forest. "What is its name?"
Parashurama's lips curled into a knowing smile. "It is called Kaumodaki—the mace of Vishnu himself."
Kalki felt his breath catch in his throat. "Kaumodaki? But that's...that's a divine weapon of Vishnu."
Parashurama's expression darkened. "It was once used by the gods in their wars against the Asuras. Now, it lies dormant, waiting for the one who can wield it. But to wield such a weapon requires more than just strength. You must prove yourself worthy, Kalki."
The weight of Parashurama's words sank in. The trials he had faced so far were nothing compared to what lay ahead. Ashvattha was no ordinary place, and the test that awaited him would challenge not just his body, but his very soul.
"How will I know if I'm worthy?" Kalki asked, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind.
"You won't," Parashurama said, his tone unyielding. "Not until the moment comes. And when it does, there will be no turning back."
Kalki's resolve hardened. This was his path, the path of the avatar, the one destined to bring balance to a world teetering on the edge of destruction. Whatever trials lay ahead, he would face them.
With the forest behind them, they began the long ascent toward Ashvattha, the sacred mountain where the fate of the world would be forged in the fires of the gods.