King of Devas

"Varuna and I have joined forces," Vayu said, his voice strained with frustration. "Although we can summon rainfall for a short period, it's still not enough. If this continues, our divine powers will soon be exhausted."

"Damn Hiranyakashipu!" he hissed through clenched teeth, his face tight with anger. His lips were dry, and his weariness was evident in the haggard lines of his face.

Varuna stood beside him, his blue robes faded and dull, his expression mirroring Vayu's bitterness. The two Devas looked as if they'd been worn down by the relentless struggle, standing side by side like two little birds in a storm.

The rest of the Devas fared slightly better, though their exhaustion was palpable. The Sun God, riding in his golden chariot, was still radiant, his body shielded by the divine sun armor, but even he seemed somewhat subdued.

Agni, the God of Fire, appeared particularly solemn. His hands moved slightly, conjuring a handful of sacrificial Agni that flickered brightly in his palms. The red light cast eerie shadows, reflecting brief glimpses of yajna rites happening in the human world.

In the fire's glow, visions materialized—first a cave, then a cellar, and then they disappeared as quickly as they had come. The sacrifices were fewer and more secretive, dwindling with time.

"The evil Asura Hiranyakashipu," Agni muttered bitterly, his voice laced with fury. "He forbids yajna for the Devas, and now the human world offers us fewer and fewer. It's a grave injustice."

He clenched his fist tightly, his eyes flashing with anger. "Hiranyakashipu's actions have desecrated the sacred tradition. Anyone who dares to pray or tries conduct yajna to the Devas in his presence, he kills them all without hesitation!"

The fire in his hands blazed brighter as the bitterness in his voice deepened.

"Hiranyakashipu's crimes are becoming viler as time passes on!" he continued. "He not only bans our prayers but forces us to work endlessly without the offerings due to us. We control the sun and the moon, the wind, and the fire, yet we cannot receive the gratitude of the human world. What world are we living in?"

The Devas stood in a collective silence, their hearts heavy with sorrow and frustration.

Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the stillness—steady and calm, with a voice to match.

"Vayu and Varuna cannot bear the sole burden of bringing rainfall to ensure plentiful harvests and water for humans and all living beings. But there are other ways," came the measured voice of Rishi Brihaspati as he stepped into their midst, a knowing smile gracing his face.

"Pranam Teacher!" the Devas chorused in unison, their voices filled with reverence.

The Devas looked on in surprise, their hands clasped together in eager anticipation. Curiosity and hope filled their eyes as they turned toward Brihaspati, awaiting his words, which promised a new solution to their plight.

Rishi Brihaspati rose slightly, his posture graceful as he raised his hand with a deliberate, fluid motion. With a sweep of his fingers, he traced a circle in the air, pointing eastward with a knowing smile.

"Have you forgotten?" he asked softly, his tone carrying a hint of mischief.

"In the Nandana Gardens of Amravati, there are divine weapons belonging to the King of Svarga!"

At his words, a spark of realization flickered across the faces of the Devas. Brihaspati's smile deepened, his eyes gleaming with wisdom. The artifacts of the Devas, he reminded them, were vessels of their divine power. Among these treasures, Indra's weapons contained a tremendous amount of thunder and lightning energy. If they could secure one of these artifacts, their troubles could be swiftly resolved.

The Devas, understanding now, exchanged glances, a glimmer of hope igniting in their eyes.

"Of course!" Vayu exclaimed suddenly. "The Vṛṣṭi and Duṣkarṣa maces! They're in the Nandana Garden."

"Yes!" Varuna added, his voice filled with astonishment. "With those weapons, we won't have to drain our divine energy any longer."

The realization was like a breath of fresh air. With Indra's divine weapon in their possession, they would not only conserve their power but also have more time to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

"Thank you, Rishi, for your help!" the Devas chorused in unison, their voices brimming with gratitude.

Brihaspati nodded with a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling. "Let us go."

Without hesitation, the Devas stood, their spirits lifted by newfound hope, and they quickly followed Brihaspati as he led them toward the Nandana Gardens.

Streams of light descended from the heavens as they approached the Nandana Gardens, the sacred grounds now within their reach. The Gandharva warriors stationed at the entrance looked excited, their faces lighting up with reverence. They clasped their hands together and bowed low.

"Pranam to the Teacher Brihaspati! Pranam to the Suryadev! Pranam to the Agnidev! Pranam..." they greeted.

Brihaspati acknowledged them with a warm smile, and the Devas, their pride evident, walked with confidence toward the entrance of the temple. Vayu and Varuna, in particular, wore expressions of satisfaction, their steps long and sure as they entered the hallowed halls.

Inside the temple, the grandeur was breathtaking. The golden pillars gleamed with divine radiance, while the ceiling was adorned with lustrous pearls. Agate decorations added a touch of elegance to the space, and the soft glow of divine light made everything appear as if bathed in an ethereal mist. The black stone platforms, simple yet regal, stood in stark contrast to the brilliance of the surroundings, lending a unique air of mystery.

"I was the one who suggested rebuilding this place," Surya remarked with a proud smile. His voice carried the weight of history as he stepped forward, his gaze focused on one of the black platforms. "I remember clearly—Surya Chakra, forged from a spark of my divine essence, is here. And it can still be used."

Surya's eyes gleamed with pride as he walked towards the platform, his steps steady and assured. The Devas followed, their anticipation growing as they neared their goal.

Surya turned his gaze away, his expression faltering. For a brief moment, the smile on his face froze, transforming into a look of confusion.

"???"

He frowned, a series of question marks seemingly appearing above his head, his confusion deepening.

"Um?!"

The Devas and the worshiping immortals, who had gathered around, drew closer, their eyes scanning the surroundings. Upon closer inspection, they saw the empty stone platform before them.

"No! Where did it go?!" Surya exclaimed in disbelief, his voice thick with shock.

He hurried to the next stone platform, muttering to himself, "I remember this place—it should be where the Vṛṣṭi and Duṣkarṣa are kept."

The Devas watched in stunned silence as Surya continued his search.

Empty!

"Still empty?!" Surya exclaimed again, his tone rising with panic.

He moved quickly, trotting towards the platform where the divine spear, Amogha, and the conch Panchajanya were supposed to be. His heart sank as he looked in vain.

Empty! Empty! Empty!

Rishi Brihaspati's face darkened with concern. He hurriedly scanned the remaining stone platforms, his eyes growing wider with each empty space.

"They're all gone!" Brihaspati said, shock evident in his voice.

"Impossible! This can't be happening!" Surya shouted in disbelief. "These weapons and artifacts were placed here just recently!"

"How could they be gone?" Vayu's voice trembled with panic.

Brihaspati stood still, his mind racing. A thoughtful expression crossed his face as he raised a hand, signaling for the Devas to follow him.

"Let's move," he commanded firmly.

He led the group swiftly to the temple doors, his steps filled with urgency.

"Who has been here?" Brihaspati asked the Gandharva warrior stationed at the entrance.

The Gandharva warrior, his excitement palpable, stepped forward with a wide-eyed expression. "Rishivar! The King of Svarga has been here! He came through earlier!"

Indra?

The realization struck the Devas like a thunderclap. Could it be that the King of Svarga had taken all the artifacts?

The Devas exchanged uncertain glances, confusion, and tension hanging in the air. For a moment, they were paralyzed by the mystery.

The worshiping immortals remained silent, their expressions unreadable. Without a word, one of them turned and flew swiftly toward the Zalin Garden. The Devas, after a brief pause, hastened to follow.

They returned to the lush garden, landing softly on the green grass beneath the towering Bodhi tree. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on them as they gathered in silence.

"Teacher, what should we do now?" Vayu's voice cracked with frustration. "Varuna and I can't continue like this. We're running out of energy!"

Rishi Brihaspati, his brow furrowed in thought, hesitated before responding. He glanced at Indra, his confusion deepening.

"Does the King of Svarga not want us to help with the rain?" Brihaspati muttered, almost to himself.

"It shouldn't be," he continued, pondering the possibilities. "If the King of Svarga's penance continues to affect the world, Lord Vishnu may intervene."

A moment of silence passed, and then Brihaspati's voice grew softer, thoughtful. "Should we ask Kama, the God of Love, to interrupt the King of Svarga's penance with desire?"

Brihaspati's mutterings trailed off as he considered the implications of such an action. Would it come to that?

A sudden, cheerful trumpeting sound pierced the air, reaching Brihaspati's ears with surprising clarity. It was the distinct call of an elephant—yet it seemed more than just a simple noise. The sound reverberated through his mind, like the echo of an ancient, epoch-shifting cry, as though it carried the guidance of the Vedas themselves. Along with this mysterious, joyful sensation came a flood of thoughts, spiraling in a whirlwind of clarity. The ripples of insight seemed to converge into a single, undeniable point.

"I see!" Brihaspati exclaimed, his voice barely above a whisper as the realization struck him.

He froze for a moment, his mouth slightly agape, a look of awe spreading across his face. His mind raced as he turned abruptly, eyes locking onto the figure of a majestic white elephant with six tusks, spraying water into the lake not far from them.

"Airavata!" Brihaspati gasped, his voice filled with reverence.

The divine elephant, Airavata, was beloved by Indra, the King of Svarga.

A smile slowly spread across Brihaspati's face as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. "Indra has left us a way… and the answer is here, with us!"

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