Aryaman returned to the unconscious young girl. He bent and checked her breath - it was almost non-existent. He checked her pulse, it was also almost non-existent. The prince looked at the girl's face, puzzled. She was alive yet her body seemed to have stopped functioning. He had not come across such a situation before. But he heard from his guru about it.

The container goes into a deep slumber when overwhelmed by an attack beyond it, his guru had told him. Only great spiritual masters can protect their containers in such a state.

"Who are you?" he asked aloud, looking at the girl with concern.

The preta also realized that the girl was recuperating. It now decided to guard the girl till she woke up. It looked at the prince curiously. He was young and fit. Although he wore ordinary clothes, the preta could make out from his demeanor that the young man was of noble birth. The sword he was carrying especially caught the preta's attention. The sword looked ordinary but it emanated a golden aura not visible to human eyes. This preta could see it. The sword could cut through demonic illusions. It could kill rakshasas with a single blow. If harnessed properly, it could split into multiple copies of itself and attack multiple enemies in one instance. Such a sword was known as daityahan asi, the sword that can slay demons.

Who are you? The preta wondered. It was uncommon for humans to wield such a weapon. This young man could have acquired it from his ancestors. He could have gained it through his merits. Either way, the preta wanted to test the young man. If he was not adept with the weapon, the preta could trick him into leaving it. In that case, the girl would at least have one good weapon with her for the time being. She could rely on the weapon's powers instead of exhausting her spiritual reserves.

No-god God, the preta addressed the girl. Let me prove my worth to you. This preta is not always cowardly.

The prince by this time had decided to take the unconscious girl along with him. He was about to pick her up when the preta cast an illusion. At once, the forest disappeared for the prince, he was in an abandoned cremation ground and it was nightfall. Numerous funeral pyres were set up but there was no one around. The pyres were also empty.

The prince unsheathed his sword and looked around. He strained his eyes to make sense of his surroundings. Slowly, from a distance, hundreds of corpses started walking towards the prince from all sides. Before he could fully realize what was happening, the corpses closed in on him and began attacking him. The prince defended himself parrying his sword around him. He blazed through one side of the formation to come out but no matter how far he pushed the corpses seemed to be overpowering him. This went on for some time and the prince began to weaken. One corpse got to him and started to snatch his sword. He kicked it with his leg and thrust the sword at it. He jumped into the air and onto a nearby funeral pyre. He could see the sea of never-ending corpses around him.

This is an illusion, he told himself. The demons are still in the forest.

He tried to recall what he had learnt about illusions from his guru: Illusions succeed in so far as they can convince the person they are reality. What you see is not what is real, what is real is not easily visible.

The corpses closed in again, one of them went for his sword, others tried to hold his legs. The prince jumped into the air to another pyre in time.

This is not real, he told himself. How do I break out of this?

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Lord Bhoja sat on the floor of the Divine Palace Kitchen with a cloth over his head, his shoulders drooping in dejection and a listless look on his face.

"How long will this torment last?" he said in a dispirited tone. In front of him were numerous jars most of which were on the verge of becoming empty. Since the barrier closed, the pantry items dwindled rapidly. Lord Bhoja was against using his powers to preserve them. There was a sea difference between freshly made food and food made from such preservation. But now, he had sunk into a desolate state. He should have preserved them when he had had the chance.

He had earlier thought the barrier was blocked because of some minor issue. All the gods, were in Swarga-loka, surely someone would be able to fix it. But even Lord Purandhara, the lord of Swarga-loka, could not do anything about it. Lord Vaiswa who had resigned to meditation after The Great Victory awoke because of it. The barrier was not blocked, it had sealed itself.

"My lord," said one of the disciples. "Please pull yourself together, we cannot see you like this."

"Now that Lord Vaiswa is awake," the disciple continued, "Lord Purandhara can open the barrier. It's just a barrier, isn't it?"

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"Just a barrier?" Lord Bhoja echoed the words, his anger rising. "You fool! It's not just a barrier! It is made of primordial energy!"

The disciple slapped his cheeks immediately as self-punishment.

"Forgive this ignorant one," said the disciple. "Please enlighten me, my lord."

"Primordial energy is the root of all powers existing in the three worlds. It's the essence that created the three worlds - Swarga-loka, Bhu-loka, and Patala-loka. Swarga-loka lies above Bhu-loka and Patala-loka lies beneath Bhu-loka. After the worlds came into being, its power diffused and became the barriers that separated the worlds. The barrier between Swarga-loka and Bhu-loka is a single envelope surrounding Bhu-loka. It prevents both humans and demons from entering Swarga-loka. At the same time, gods can descend to Bhu-loka to protect the human realm. Patala-loka can be accessed from Bhu-loka through seven portals. Each of these portals has its own barriers."

"But now the barrier between Swarga-loka and Bhu-loka has sealed itself for some reason. Because it is made of the primordial energy - it cannot be opened from Swarga-loka alone."

"How can the barrier be opened then?" asked the disciple.

"It must be unsealed by directing its original essence towards it from both Swarga-loka and Bhu-loka."

"But isn't the original essence made into the three realms?" asked the other disciple.

"Yes and no," replied Lord Bhoja.

"Lord Tvashtr, the divine forger of weapons, channeled some of it into shaping the weapons of gods. Lord Purandhara's weapon, Vajra is one of them. But we need an equally powerful weapon to be wielded from Bhu-loka for the barrier to be opened."

"Who in all of Bhu-loka can have such a weapon, my lord?" asked one of the disciples. "Aren't all the gods here in Swarga-loka?"

"That is why I feel so miserable," sighed Lord Bhoja.

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The preta watched the prince struggling with the phantom corpses it had created, with interest. The young man did not know how to use the daityahan asi. It was only a matter of time before the prince would let go of the sword. The moment that happens, the preta could appropriate it.

The prince kept fighting with the onslaught of corpses. If it were a lesser mortal, he would have given up long before either due to fright or exhaustion. While the prince had good stamina, he lacked the skill and knowledge of his weapon.

Humans do not need to know how to wield weapons of gods, General Pushya had told him. It would be treated as insolence and our clan would be punished for generations. We should not disrupt the balance of the worlds, Arya.

This was the reason the general had given him before exiling his guru. Since his sword looked ordinary, the general did not know of its significance. Aryaman did not reveal it to him either. If not for that fateful day, he might have learnt from his guru how to unlock the powers of the sword. He remembered his own helplessness in the matter.

He recalled the parting words of his guru who had accepted his exilement stoically:

Remember Arya, a weapon is only as good as its master. It cannot do what its master cannot command.

A weapon is only as good as its master, Aryaman repeated to himself. It cannot do what its master cannot command. It cannot do what its master cannot command. It cannot do what its master cannot command.

As he repeated those lines over and over again, something clicked in his mind. He stopped defending himself against the corpses. He sat down and kept his sword straight with its tip touching the ground. He held the hilt with both his hands and closed his eyes, ignoring the corpses that drowned him.

O mighty sword that can slay demons, he addressed the sword in the divine tongue his mother had taught him when he was a child. Unlock your powers and dispel this illusion. The corpses are not real, the pyres are not real, the cremation ground is not real. See what I see.

The sword trembled in his hands when it heard the prince's thoughts. Its golden aura became visible and it cut through the heap of corpses that hand stacked up on the prince with its celestial powers. The prince could no longer feel the grabbing by the corpses. He opened his eyes and he was back in the forest. He checked himself and his sword and broke into a wide grin.

"It worked!" he said elated, sliding his fingers across the blade of the sword to feel the metal.

This is indeed a divine weapon, he thought. I need to find a mentor who can teach me how to wield this sword. He turned towards the girl.

Are you a demon? he wondered in his mind. He hesitated for a moment but bent to pick her up for the second time. This time, nothing happened.

The preta was annoyed. Pfft! How did he figure it out? it tried to understand. Realizing it was out of options, it stuck to the girl turning itself into a make-believe sword this time.

Himmat was still waiting for the prince outside the forest. The two hours hadn't elapsed yet. It made a happy sound seeing its master but then started whining. It could sense the preta. The prince looked worried. Is Himmat reacting to the girl?

"What's wrong, Himmat?" he said. "It's alright." He coaxed it for a few minutes before climbing it with the girl in his arms. The girl was the only solid lead he had found till now. He would need to find out about her true form to get to the demons. He knew someone who could help. He squeezed Himmat with his legs and guided it towards the city.

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The old woman came out of her thatched hut. It was early evening. She collected the hay she dried outside her hut and piled it on the side. A water trough was beside the pile. The old woman had filled it with fresh water she filtered from a nearby pond. She had no visitors since the incidents at the cremation grounds. One of her upcoming visitors was picky about water and hay. She looked towards the path that led to Dandakaranya expectantly.

"They should be reaching soon," she said to herself.

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container here refers to the physical body in which a soul resides

daityahan asi - the sword that can slay demons

merits - good deeds and contributions made for the world

Vajra - translated as "thunderbolt" is one of the most powerful weapons created for gods

daityahan asi - the sword that can slay demons