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Chapter 47: The Lifeblood of Gods

In the stone-carved temple courtyard, on a raised podium Acharya Parama prepared for the ritual. He arranged the offerings with meticulous care on a wooden platform beside the consecrated fire pit. Ghee, grains, fragrant herbs, and sandalwood pieces were neatly placed in brass vessels, glinting softly in the morning light. Surrounding the fire pit, an array of vibrant flowers and fresh mango leaves adorned the altar. The priest’s deep, resonant voice began to chant ancient Vedic mantras as he lit the fire, the air crackled with the sound of kindling wood.

Inside the sanctum sanatorium of the temple, where the local deity had already been cleansed with milk in a ritual bath and adorned with silks and jewellery. Her forehead had the vermillion and her neck had the sandalwood and turmeric paste smeared on it, signifying the ritual purity and sanctification. Anasuya had applied it the same to Svetavastra herself as was the practice for all devotees to be purified themselves. Behind the idol of the local deity, Svetavastra sat cross-legged and joined her hands together in prayer. She didn’t know how Manu convinced the priest who let her do her prayers inside the sacred and highly restricted area of the sanctum. She was only grateful and put her heart into aligning herself with the sacred chants the priest's resonant voice invoked from outside.

This ritual was being performed mainly for protection against evil forces. As the priest invoked the mantras the spiritual energies of the devotees who have purified their mind and body started to flow into the idol of the local deity in an invisible flow of energy. The local deity started to have a translucent shimmer with this influx of spiritual energy.

Prince Aryaman who was seated among the devotees with Sanjaya by his side, happened to catch the instance of a glimmer of the idol. His eyes were transfixed as he recalled the water fairy wearing the same saree as the local deity. Was it the local deity that I saw in the lotus pond? the prince wondered.

Manu who was also spread among the devotees was praying with his eyes closed looking serene and stoic.

Inside the sanctum, Svetavastra could feel the influx of spiritual energy near her. She focused on her prayers when she heard the voice of the local deity.

Greetings ancient one! said the voice, feminine, authoritative, and reverberant.

Thank you for letting me pray here in your vicinity, deity of the place, said Svetavastra conversing with the local deity in her mind.

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No matter, said the voice. I hardly get any special visitors. Interesting to see one of you.

One of me? asked Svetavastra puzzled.

Yes, one of you, repeated the local deity. You are an ancient god. Or rather were an ancient god. Your core is missing, you are but an empty shell that once must have housed supreme cosmic power.

I see, said Svetavastrea. Hmm…I’m here to request you to lend me some of your powers.

The voice chuckled. The mighty do fall! she said. No matter, I do not sense any arrogance or greed in you. But you must know that your cosmic powers and mine are fundamentally different.

Different how? asked Svetavastra.

Outside, the priest reached for the grains and herbs, each handful offered with a specific mantra, invoking blessings from different deities. Smoke curled upward, carrying the prayers to the heavens.

Your ancient powers are bestowed by the cosmos to you, said the local deity. They are independent of external sources. They reside within you. Mine come from my devotees. Let me tell you how I came to be.

Long ago, on a night bathed in moonlight, a celestial lotus bloomed in a serene pond you now find outside this temple. From within this sacred flower, I emerged, born of divine energy. The villagers welcomed me with reverence. They called me their guardian, and I grew up among them, blessing their crops and healing the sick. Due to my connection to nature, the village thrived, under my care.

A demon Virochana descended upon the village, spreading darkness and despair. I confronted him. The battle was fierce and prolonged. Drawing upon the celestial energy of the lotus from which I was born, I trapped Virochana in the depths of the lotus pond. In doing so, I sacrificed my physical form as well as my celestial energy.

Grateful for my efforts, the villagers built a shrine by the pond in my honour. Over time, this shrine grew into the temple where I am worshipped today. My spirit resides within this idol kept alive by their unwavering faith in me.

I have the powers as long as they have faith in me. This collective faith is the lifeblood of current gods. That power binds the gods to the people and their well-being. Without their devotion, I am but a sculpted stone. Beautifully sculpted one, I might add. But a stone nonetheless.

I see, said Svetavastra.

The priest added the last of the offerings—a mixture of fragrant sandalwood and flowers. The flames, red and orange, seemed to respond, reaching higher and higher. With a final, resonant chant, the priest completed the ritual, offering a concluding prayer for peace, prosperity, and protection for all.

Since the power comes to you from the devotion and goodness of these people, said the local deity, you are bound by the thread of fate to protect them through time.

If I give you access to my powers, you are bound to that destiny, said the local deity with solemnity in her voice. Do you accept it?