Ravi's life had taken some inexplicable turns—like a festival firework that kept bursting into new colors just when he thought it was done. He had gone from a quiet village boy, content with his daily chores in Malligapuram, to someone who felt curiously watched by destiny. Everything began the day a peculiar pigeon with a half-broken tail
feather chose to land on his head. Since then, every step he took seemed to lead him further into a realm of ancient signs, cryptic messages, and stirrings of a power he neither asked for nor understood.
While Ravi longed for his old, unremarkable routine, the village had other ideas. People gossiped about him being blessed, cursed, or touched by prophecy. Even the village priest, Swamy Paramartha, hinted that Ravi's footsteps echoed with karmic significance. But what none of them realized was that something far larger and more mysterious was in motion—something that stretched far beyond Malligapuram's quiet lanes, forging alliances between gods and mortals around the globe. And Ravi, who had never once aspired to the role of hero, was about to discover that he wasn't alone in receiving a cosmic call.
1. A Feathered Return
One lazy afternoon, when the sun glistened on palm leaves and a warm breeze rustled the rangoli patterns drawn in front of each house, Ravi found himself startled—yet again—by the thwap-thwap of wings. That pigeon had come back. Its unmistakable broken tail feather and sideways head tilt gave it away immediately.
Ravi was perched on a short stool,
mending a torn section of the thatched roof. Lakshmi, his mother, pounded spices in a mortar while his father, Somasundaram, dozed in the shade. The pigeon swooped dangerously close, rattling Ravi into dropping his tools.
"Not again," he muttered, half in disbelief. But there it was: the same insistent coo, the same unwavering gaze that seemed to say, follow me.
Before he realized it, Ravi was on his feet, stepping out of the courtyard gate. The pigeon hopped along, keeping just far enough ahead that he had to keep moving to keep it in sight. Neighbors paused to watch; some giggled, some shook their heads in wonder.
Within minutes, he found himself at the edge of the village, on a little-used pathway leading toward a dilapidated old fort. The structure was reputed to be haunted—or, at the very least, infested with scorpions and snakes. Children told ghost stories about it, and adults warned them to stay away. Yet here he was, practically marching toward
it, unable to resist the pigeon's silent summons.
2. An Unwelcome Reception
Once inside the crumbling outer walls, the air changed. The sun's warmth gave way to an eerie coolness. Ravi's stomach knotted at the sight of blackened stone towers, broken archways, and heaps of rubble overgrown with weeds. The pigeon flitted from column to column, guiding him through the labyrinth of ruins.
Suddenly, a sharp command cut through the silence.
"Stop! Who goes there?"
Ravi whirled around. Two grim-faced men emerged from behind a battered wall. They wore frayed clothes and bandanas, each brandishing a wooden staff. Their suspicious scowls reminded Ravi of stray dogs about to lunge.
"I'm… no one," Ravi stammered, his heart lurching into his throat. "I—I'm from Malligapuram."
One of the men sneered. "Spying on us, are you?"
A wave of panic shot through Ravi. Spy? The notion was absurd, yet these men seemed prepared to believe it. "I'm not spying," he said quickly. "I followed a pigeon—"
Both men burst into harsh laughter. "A pigeon? That's the best you can do?"
Before he could defend himself, one man grabbed his arm. "We'll see what the boss says. Move!"
Ravi's mind raced. These men might be smugglers, bandits, or worse. He glanced around for the pigeon but didn't see it. Wonderful, he thought bitterly. Led into trouble by a bird, again.
They hustled him through a maze of crumbled corridors, past piles of old crates and makeshift sleeping mats. Eventually, they reached a rough-looking camp where several men lounged, counting sacks of what looked like contraband. At the center stood a broad-shouldered fellow with a scar slanting across his cheek—a man who exuded the aura of being in charge.
The scarred man eyed Ravi as though examining an insect. "Who are you, and why are you trespassing?"
"I—I'm just a villager!" Ravi managed. "I wandered in here by mistake."
The boss snorted. "A mistake, huh? I don't believe in coincidences. Maybe you're here to scout for that gang near the hills. If you're lying, I'll make sure no one finds you."
Ravi's knees felt wobbly. Terror fluttered in his chest like a trapped sparrow. He realized trying to explain the pigeon would only provoke more ridicule.
3. Desperate Run
With no other plan, Ravi did the only thing he could think of: he yanked free from the man's grip and ran. His captors roared behind him, cursing and scrambling to follow. His sandals
slapped against cracked stones as he swerved through corridors, narrowly missing a toppled cart.
A rush of adrenaline dulled his fear. He zigzagged past a startled guard who lunged clumsily. The labyrinthine passages twisted in all directions; a wrong turn might corner him. But luck (or fate) guided him to a dim archway leading outside.
Pounding footsteps behind him spurred him forward. He bolted into the open courtyard, glancing frantically for an escape. That was when he spotted a narrow gap in the far wall,
half-choked with vines. Heart hammering, he dashed across the courtyard.
"Stop him!" came the furious shouts.
Ravi hurled himself through the vine-covered breach. Thorns scratched at his arms, but he somehow pushed clear. Disoriented and trembling, he found himself on the fortress's outer side, hidden from immediate view.
Though footsteps clamored at the gap, none of the men followed. Apparently, they didn't find it worth risking the thorny wall and whatever else might lie beyond.
Still gasping for breath, Ravi stumbled into the undergrowth. Freedom, albeit precarious, was his again.
4. The Mysterious Guide
He sank to the base of an old tree, sweat trickling down his face. What just happened? The bizarre nature of his predicament struck him: he'd been dragged here by a bird, nearly
captured by suspicious men, and now had no clear idea how to return home without stumbling into their territory again.
A rustle overhead startled him. Looking up, he saw the pigeon perched on a branch, cooing softly. Furious, Ravi blurted, "You nearly got me killed!"
The pigeon bobbed its head, unruffled by his outburst. Then it fluttered off once more, heading deeper into the wild brush. Ravi closed his eyes, wishing he could ignore it. But an inexplicable tug in his gut told him that the pigeon was more than just a
bird—it was a messenger, or a herald, serving forces he barely understood.
One step more, he thought. Let's see where this leads.
5. Into the Ruined Grotto
Driven by an odd mixture of curiosity and resignation, Ravi followed. The terrain grew more rugged as the brambles thickened, the path nearly vanishing among rocks and twisted roots. Shadows deepened under the heavy canopy of trees. Occasionally, he caught glimpses of unusual footprints or heard distant howls that sent a chill along
his spine.
At last, the pigeon guided him to a steep rocky slope with a narrow cleft at its base. Ravi peered into the gap: it was just wide enough for him to squeeze through sideways. Thebpigeon landed at the crevice's edge, waiting expectantly.
"Of course," Ravi muttered. "Why wouldn't I crawl into a dark hole in the ground?"
He inched his way inside, the cold stone walls scraping his shoulders. The darkness swallowed him until, abruptly, the tunnel opened into a hidden chamber—a sort of sunken grotto encircled by tall cliffs. Vines hung from above like green curtains, and the
air smelled of damp earth and faint floral notes.
In the center of this concealed valley rose a small, ancient shrine carved directly into the rock face. Its façade bore intricate designs: swirling lines, old symbols, and depictions of
birds and serpents locked in cosmic tussles. Though the carvings were eroded by time, Ravi could sense their gravity, as if they buzzed with an unseen pulse.
Perched atop the shrine's lintel was the pigeon. And, for the first time, Ravi noticed something peculiar about its plumage: woven among the grey feathers were faint traces of golden sheen, like hammered metal.
6. A Divine Messenger
Staring at the shrine, Ravi felt his heart pound in unison with a mysterious energy in the air. He recalled the temple priest's occasional references to "vehicles" of the gods—vahanas, as they were called. Typically, one thought of Nandi the bull for Shiva, or Garuda the eagle for Vishnu. Could this pigeon be a lesser-known vahana, entrusted by some deity to find mortals worthy of a certain calling?
It sounded far-fetched, yet here he stood, compelled by a force he could neither name nor deny.
He approached the shrine carefully, stepping through a weathered stone doorway into a dim interior. Creepers dangled overhead, allowing slivers of sunlight to filter in. The main chamber featured a large statue—a deity with an avian aspect, wings partially folded at its sides. One hand held what resembled an ornate shield, the other a floral
garland.
Ravi's breath caught. The statue's eyes were made of polished stone, gleaming faintly as if alive. Intricate carvings at the base depicted fierce bird-headed figures in battle against
monstrous serpents. In one corner, a pigeon-like figure was shown carrying something in its beak, standing amidst humans as though selecting them.
A champion… he thought. Is that what the god is seeking?
All at once, a low hum reverberated through the chamber. The statue's eyes glowed with a subtle luminosity. A voice—soft yet resonant—seemed to fill the air:
"Mortal child, you have come at the herald's summons. Across the Earth, the gods seek champions to uphold the cosmic balance. Will you stand among them?"
Ravi froze in awe. "I—I'm just Ravi from Malligapuram," he whispered. "I don't understand."
"We do not demand worship," the voice continued. "We require mortal vessels—guardians—who can anchor our presence in
the earthly realm. Darkness expands, and champions from many corners of this
world must arise."
In that moment, Ravi recalled some half-remembered scripture: When evil stirs, the divine calls upon mortals. Perhaps the gods were not helpless but needed collaborators—bridges between heaven and earth—to preserve order. His mind reeled at the enormity of it.
7. Bestowal of Power
Without warning, a swirl of wind kicked up within the shrine, fluttering the creepers. The glowing eyes of the deity shone brighter, and Ravi felt a current of warmth surge around him.
"Your spirit resonates with humility and perseverance," the voice intoned. "Accept this blessing, so you may stand as our champion."
Panic mingled with wonder in Ravi's heart. Before he could utter a protest, the swirl of energy converged, coursing through his arms and chest like invisible lightning. He gasped, knees buckling.
Images crowded his mind: glimpses of other mortals, scattered across distant lands—some standing in desert ruins, others in icy tundra or lush rainforests—each being guided by a different creature or sign, each receiving a fragment of divine power. A swirl of gods and mortal champions uniting to face a threat that spanned continents.
Ravi felt the surge intensify, as if his very cells were being rewritten. Moments later, the blaze of energy quieted, leaving him trembling and drenched in sweat. He collapsed onto his hands and knees, breathing hard.
The statue's glow subsided. The air stilled. Ravi's entire body tingled with residual sparks, and his heart hammered with both exhilaration and a sense of weight—the burden of a new responsibility.
8. Aftermath of the Awakening
For a while, Ravi just knelt there, mind struggling to process the magnitude of what had happened. The pigeon fluttered in, landing beside him with a gentle coo, as though congratulating him.
Eventually, he managed to stand. He felt different—more alert, somehow stronger but also more vulnerable, like someone who'd just discovered a far-reaching secret.
No instructions scrolled across the walls, no manual for how to wield whatever powers he now possessed. Only the faint echo of the voice: Mortal guardians must rise… across the Earth…
He looked again at the deity's statue, remembering the cosmic glimpses of other champions far away. The gods were forging alliances, not begging for rescue. That realization tempered his initial panic. The deities were still powerful, but their ability to intervene in mortal affairs needed a human channel. And fate had chosen him—among many others on the planet—to stand in that role.
9. The Glimpse of Serpent Shadows
As Ravi stepped out of the shrine, the hidden valley seemed even more luminous than before. Every leaf and flower had a crisp vibrancy. Perhaps these new senses let me see the world more vividly.
Yet his heightened awareness also caught something sinister. Along the rocky perimeter, a fleeting shape slithered—something large and serpentine. He froze, heart hammering. The serpent's eyes glowed faintly red, then vanished into the foliage.
A shiver coursed through him. In the carvings, he'd seen monstrous snakes warring against divine bird warriors. Now, he realized, the same conflict might be surfacing in the modern age. The voice in the shrine had hinted at a gathering darkness. Could it be tied to a serpent deity or demonic force rising elsewhere?
He recalled the band of men in the fort, the sense of dread they inspired, and wondered if that was merely a mundane threat or the first taste of something bigger.
"One step at a time," Ravi breathed, brushing sweat from his temple.
10. Back Through the Crevice
He needed to get home, though it seemed an impossible trek. Fortunately, the pigeon hopped along a narrow path leading out of the valley. Ravi followed, navigating steep inclines and tangled roots. His arms and legs still tingled, but a part of him felt he could climb faster, endure more.
When the route finally leveled out, he found himself overlooking a dense stretch of forest. Far beyond, the faint outline of Malligapuram's hills glimmered in the sunset. Relief mingled with an ache to see his parents again, to slip back into mundane comforts if only for a moment.
As twilight deepened, he made careful progress down the slopes, the pigeon occasionally popping into view like a silent guide. The oppressive hush of the forest weighed on him, but each time it threatened to overwhelm him, he remembered the statue's words: The gods trust you.
He tested his newfound stamina by quickening his steps. Remarkably, he didn't tire as easily as before. The bruises from scrambling at the fort no longer throbbed as much. No supernatural fireworks, but definitely… enhancements.
Yet the flash of that serpentine silhouette kept replaying in his mind, a reminder that darker forces might lurk just out of sight.
11. A Late Return to Malligapuram
Night had fallen by the time he emerged onto a familiar path near Malligapuram's eastern boundary. A crescent moon hung low, bathing the huts and fields in silver. Crickets chirped softly, and warm lights glowed from windows.
The day had been extraordinarily long and harrowing. Ravi could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all—if not for the roiling knot in his gut that told him his true challenges had only just begun.
He tiptoed into his courtyard. Lakshmi nearly dropped her grinding stone when she saw him. "Ravi! Where were you? We've been worried sick!"
Somasundaram, half-asleep in a rickety chair, jolted upright. "What happened to you, boy? Why are you covered in dust?"
Ravi felt a surge of relief at their familiar scolding. "I'm fine," he assured them, carefully omitting the details about shady bandits and a hidden shrine. "I got lost in the forest and had to find my way back."
Exhausted, he rinsed off, changed into fresh clothes, and ate half a plate of rice before collapsing onto his cot. Sleep took him almost immediately.
12. Dreams of Many Lands
That night, Ravi dreamed more vividly than ever before. He saw images of others—individuals from diverse cultures—each awakened in different ways. One wore desert robes, kneeling before a colossal statue with a falcon's head. Another stood on a
snowy peak, guided by a wolf-like spirit. A third walked through ancient ruins in a land of swirling mists, accompanied by a dragon
In every vision, a divine presence conferred powers upon them, and the mortals rose, eyes brimming with the same blend of wonder and trepidation.
Ravi's dreams converged on a scene of swirling cosmic energy where these champions stood in a loose circle, each
radiating a unique aura. And at the center loomed a shifting darkness, serpentine forms and roiling shadows that hissed with malevolent intent.
"Your fates intertwine," echoed a whisper in his dream. "Stand firm, for the cosmic balance requires your united strength."
He woke before dawn, heart pounding, drenched in sweat. A quick glance around revealed that his modest room was as it had always been—except that now, he carried knowledge that spanned continents, gods, and uncertain wars.
13. An Oath Among Friends
Ravi didn't wait long to confide in his two closest companions, Ganesh and Valli. He'd already entrusted them with the story of his pigeon-led misadventure once before, but now the stakes were higher. Sitting beneath the sprawling banyan tree, with a lantern flickering, he told them about discovering the hidden shrine, receiving new powers, and
glimpsing other champions around the world.
Ganesh looked as though he might drop his cup of chai. "So… you're saying the gods have many champions, not just you?"
Valli frowned thoughtfully. "That implies there's a global threat—a darkness that none of us can face alone.
Ravi nodded. "The statue's voice mentioned darkness expanding. I suspect some age-old foe—maybe those serpent beings we've seen in the carvings. I even caught a glimpse of something slithering near the shrine."
A tense hush hung in the air. Ganesh, usually the joker, swallowed hard. "Well… that's quite a leap from collecting herbs and sipping tea in Malligapuram. Are you sure you're up for this?"
"I'm not sure at all," Ravi admitted. "But I don't have a choice. The gods entrusted me with this, and it seems they've done so with others across the world. I can't just ignore it."
Valli placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then you won't face it alone. We're with you, Ravi."
For a moment, gratitude swelled in his chest. It wasn't just about gods picking champions; it was about the people he cared for, the friendships he leaned on.
14. Strange Omens in the Villa
In the following days, subtle tensions cropped up in Malligapuram. The goats in Sundari Aunty's pen bleated incessantly at night, refusing to enter the fields. Temple bells sometimes rang at odd hours without anyone pulling the rope. And some villagers reported strange footprints near their farms—long, slithering tracks, though no one
could identify the creature that left them.
While most dismissed these as coincidences, Ravi and his friends began to suspect a pattern. If the serpentine threat was indeed stirring, it might be probing all corners of the land, searching for vulnerabilities.
One afternoon, Govindan at the tea stall mentioned seeing a hooded stranger lurking near the village well. By the time he approached, the stranger vanished, leaving a faint sulfuric odor behind. "Gave me the shivers," Govindan grumbled. "Never seen anything like it."
Every report of an odd event made Ravi's pulse spike, recalling the malevolent presence he'd sensed outside the shrine.
15. A Timely Revelation
Meanwhile, the pigeon turned up repeatedly—on roof edges, at the banyan tree, even outside Govindan's stall—though it never caused the same ruckus as before. It seemed content to watch over Ravi from a distance, cooing softly if he ventured too far from the path the gods had set.
Swamy Paramartha, the village priest, somehow caught wind of Ravi's unusual experiences. One evening, under the dim temple lights, the priest confided that he'd dreamt of a majestic bird emerging from swirling storm clouds to guide a "humble soul."
"Sometimes the gods work through unlikely messengers," the priest mused. "There are legends of lesser-known vahanas—messenger birds entrusted to seek those with pure hearts. Across the ages, these birds have appeared to men and women chosen for higher purposes."
Ravi swallowed. "You think that pigeon is one of those messenger birds?"
Swamy Paramartha smiled knowingly. "I do. Consider yourself carefully, my boy, for you walk a path few ever tread. The gods do not come to mortals lightly."
16. Facing the Old Fort Once More
Despite the sense of looming danger, Ravi worried about the fort's inhabitants. Would those bandits remain a threat to Malligapuram? Feeling bolder since his awakening, he considered returning—though the very thought made his skin prickle.
Ganesh and Valli, upon hearing the plan, insisted on coming along. "You can't barge in alone," Valli said, brandishing a stout walking staff. "We might not be chosen champions, but we can stand by you."
Early one morning, they approached the ruined fortress from a different angle, careful to stay hidden among the tall grasses. They found no sign of bandit activity along the broken walls. In fact, the entire place seemed deserted.
Creeping inside, they discovered scattered crates, footprints in the dust, and half-burnt campfires. It looked like the group had abruptly packed up and fled. Maybe they'd gotten wind that a "mysterious intruder" was unstoppable. Or, perhaps, they simply moved on to another hideout.
Ravi felt a knot of relief. At least Malligapuram wouldn't be harassed by criminals—though he worried that their sudden departure might hint at something bigger brewing beyond the fort.
17. Broadening Horizons
Meanwhile, the whisper from the shrine—about a global network of champions—refused to leave Ravi's mind. He sensed that soon, he'd be drawn away from Malligapuram's comforting confines.The quiet lanes and old banyan tree were no longer the entire scope of his world.
Ganesh found a battered map in his father's old trunk, charting major routes and regions beyond their hills. Together with Valli, he pored over it, marking places rumored to hold spiritual significance. "Who knows," Valli mused, "we might need to journey to some far temple or confluence of rivers where other champions gather."
Ravi traced the lines with a trrembling finger. In his mind's eye, he recalled that dream of champions in deserts, mountains, and ruins. "We're not alone," he repeated, forging resolve in those words.
18. A New Turn of Fate
One evening, while Ravi returned from the fields, the pigeon swooped before him, almost dancing in mid-air. It led him toward an abandoned orchard on the outskirts, where, to his astonishment, he spotted another traveler.
Tall and robed in a foreign style, the traveler carried a staff topped with a small carved bird. He bowed when Ravi approached. "I have seen you in visions," the traveler said, eyes gleaming. "You, like me, have been given a boon from the ancient gods."
Ravi's mouth fell open. Here was proof that the chosen champions extended beyond rumor. The traveler introduced himself as Daryan, hailing from a region far to the west. He claimed that a wave of unusual sightings and serpent-worship had forced him to flee, searching for allies.
"Darkness seeps through cracks in our world," Daryan said gravely. "From shrines and fortresses, the gods awaken mortals to stand as their voice and arm. I suspect your pigeon is also a divine messenger."
Ravi gave an uneasy nod, heart pounding with recognition. "So… it's all true."
They spoke at length, Daryan revealing that omens pointed to a looming confrontation, though nobody yet knew where the conflict would break out first. "Several other champions gather in secret enclaves," he explained, "awaiting signs that will draw us together."
"But what about the gods themselves?" Ravi asked. "Are they weakened?"
"Not weakened," Daryan clarified, "but their influence in the mortal plane is limited. They need champions, not in the sense of rescue, but as embodiments of their presence on Earth. Through us, they can intervene without fracturing the cosmic balance."
19. Unfolding Alliances
Daryan spent a few days in Malligapuram, quietly observing the village's harmony. He met Ganesh and Valli, forming a quick rapport over shared stories of bizarre dreams and hidden temples. "Your land has an intense spiritual current," he remarked. "It's no coincidence multiple signs are converging here."
Ravi felt a blend of relief and apprehension. On one hand, it was comforting to meet another champion—to know he wasn't solely bearing the burden. On the other, it drove home that this was real. A network of mortals, each touched by gods, each expected to play a role.
Meanwhile, their group unearthed more scraps of lore about celestial creatures pitted against cunning serpents, about half-forgotten warfare that once spanned realms. A record in the temple described how gods often relied on chosen mortals to act as a living shield or sword. "Guardians" was a term repeated often.
In one tattered manuscript, they found mention of a "Feathered Herald," a messenger pigeon or dove entrusted to
roam the Earth for potential champions. Some lines read: When the feathered herald lands upon a mortal's head, so shall commence the forging of a guardian.
Ravi swallowed hard, recalling that humiliating moment in front of the entire village. It was never just a random bird messing around.
20. The Road Ahead
As Daryan prepared to continue his journey, he offered Ravi a cryptic farewell. "I feel we'll meet again in a place where many paths converge. Until then, trust your instincts. Your pigeon guide will not mislead you."
Ganesh and Valli saw him off. Though their time with this wandering champion was brief, it cemented the reality of their predicament. Forces were gathering—some benign, some
sinister—and Ravi was now part of a grand tapestry that spanned continents.
He sighed, turning to his friends. "I suppose I'll have to leave Malligapuram one day. There's something I'm meant to do. But I don't know how or when."
Ganesh patted his shoulder. "We'll figure it out together, man."
Valli, arms folded, nodded. "And if that pigeon tries leading you anywhere dangerous again, we'll be better prepared."
Despite their brave words, an undercurrent of anxiety loomed. Ravi still felt ill-equipped for a role that involved channeling divine power. But glimpses of his new capabilities—the heightened agility, the intuitive sense of direction—helped him cling to a sliver of confidence. If the gods had chosen him, there must be a reason.
21. The Final Echo
Late at night, alone in his room, Ravi replayed everything in his mind: the chase through the fort, the deserted shrine, the hum of a deity's voice, the lightning surge of new power, and the revelation that other champions roamed the Earth.
Gods need a champion. The phrase reverberated like a mantra. Not because
they were powerless, but because the mortal realm required intermediaries to shape events without tearing the fabric of reality apart.
Somewhere outside, he heard the soft flutter of wings. He moved to the window and peered out. The pigeon perched on a ledge, its golden-flecked feathers catching a hint of moonlight.
"Alright," he whispered, voice trembling with both nerves and determination. "I don't fully understand it, but if you've chosen me to stand among other mortal champions… I'll do my best. For my family, for Malligapuram, and for all these realms I've never even seen." The pigeon cooed softly, as though
offering reassurance. Across the night skies—unseen by Ravi—similar birds, beasts, and spiritual entities were carrying out their tasks, guiding other would-be guardians toward the cosmic stage.
With a final sigh, Ravi lay back on his cot, eyes on the rough rafters. Sleep would come slowly, for tomorrow he would wake to the same village, but no longer with the same innocence. Each new dawn seemed to whisper, Prepare…a champion's journey has only begun.