The forest enveloped them as they ventured deeper. The sounds of the outside world faded to a distant whisper, replaced by the rustling leaves and the occasional snap of a twig. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the thick canopy, casting an almost mystical glow on the forest floor, illuminating patches of vibrant green moss and scattered wildflowers.

Aryaman rode slightly ahead, his posture tense. He kept glancing back at Svetavastra, his guru, with a mix of curiosity and frustration in his eyes. The prince's fingers drummed restlessly on the hilt of his cosmic sword, the weapon's intricate designs glinting faintly in the dappled light. They had set out from Arang at dawn and it was late afternoon now. It took him a great deal of cajoling to let the king allow him to leave Arang with Svetavastra alone. He understood his father’s fears, the latter was sending his only son, the crown prince no less, with a stranger to fight the terrifying undead that had spread darkness across the lands. Svetavastra had assured the king that no harm would fall on the prince on his wake.

Once they were on their own, Aryaman on Himmat and Svetavastra on an equally strong horse from the palace stables, Svetavastra had summoned the luminous diksuchi, the glowing compass to observe for any outward signs of the undead. He held it side to side and up and down in the hope of catching any signals but they were none for a while. As they continued walking northward, a direction Svetavastra chose based on the preta’s suggestion, he picked a faint red glow on the diksuchi and that’s how they had ended up in the present forest.

Svetavastra knitted his brows. Demonic energy? He thought to himself. This keeps getting complex.

“Gurudeva,” Aryaman began, “what does the red glow mean?”

Svetavastra glanced at the glowing compass, a flicker of tension in his eyes as he scanned the surrounding forest. “The colours indicate different energies. Red, like now, points to demonic energy,” he explained. “Golden means cosmic energy, black detects dark energy, and purple shows spiritual energy.”

Aryaman's eyes widened with interest, his grip momentarily loosening on his sword. “So it’s red because of the demonic presence here?”

“Yes,” Svetavastra confirmed, his voice tight as he listened to the forest. “There are traces of demonic energy in this forest, let’s find the source first.”

“Yes Gurudeva,” said Aryaman. As they went deeper into the forest, Aryaman’s thoughts kept wandering around his cosmic powers. He sighed, his frustration palpable. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.

“I’m struggling with the cosmic powers, Gurudeva,” Aryaman finally voiced his concerns aloud. “The preta simulation orb didn’t help. I couldn’t grasp the true essence of my abilities.”

Svetavastra’s thoughtful nod was accompanied by a distant gaze.

“Cosmic powers alone won’t suffice. To harness them fully, you must develop a strong spiritual base. Without it, even the most powerful abilities will be unstable,” he said calmly.

Aryaman’s shoulders slumped, his initial enthusiasm waning.

“The meditation exercises to cultivate spiritual powers... ,” his voice drawled, “they’re boring. I was determined at first, but that determination didn’t last long.”

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“Why?” Svetavastra asked, curious.

Aryaman paused, taking some time to reflect. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his thoughts.

“Maybe because it’s passive,” he said. “ I have to restrain myself from doing anything while I’m itching to fight and unleash my powers.”

Svetavastra chuckled softly, a gentle, understanding sound.

“I see,” he said, his eyes twinkling with quiet amusement.

A sudden rustling in the underbrush snapped their attention. The undergrowth exploded as a wild boar with fiery, maniacal eyes charged at them, its movements erratic and fierce. The beast's eyes glowed red, exuding a demonic energy that made Aryaman's skin crawl. Svetavastra’s brows creased with concern, he was about to summon his spiritual powers to subdue the beast but stopped himself.

"Aryaman, here's a chance to unleash your powers," Svetavastra said. "Why don't you capture this wild boar without harming it?"

Aryaman nodded, accepting the challenge. His grip tightened around his sword. He could feel the hilt's comforting weight in his hand. With a swift kick, he spurred Himmat forward. The boar started to run away from this commotion. The horse's powerful legs launched them into the chase, branches whipping past as Aryaman leaned low, the wind rushing in his ears.

The boar zigzagged through the trees, its red eyes glowing with a feral madness. Aryaman matched its pace, the rhythm of Himmat's gallop syncing with his heartbeat. The horse’s muscles bunched and released beneath him, propelling them forward with raw power. Aryaman’s eyes stayed locked on the boar, trying to predict its erratic movements.

He swung his sword, aiming to disable rather than harm. But the boar darted left, avoiding the strike with a sharp, unpredictable turn that nearly unseated Aryaman.

“Come on, Himmat!” Aryaman urged the horse. The forest floor blurred into a mosaic of green and brown, uneven and treacherous. Himmat navigated it with practiced ease, leaping over fallen logs and ducking under low branches. The prince’s eyes remained fixed on the boar, his mind racing to anticipate its next move.

He swung again, this time aiming for the legs, hoping to incapacitate. But the boar twisted mid-air, evading the strike with an almost supernatural agility. It darted between two closely grown trees. Aryaman pulled Himmat to a skidding halt, barely avoiding a collision. Sweat dripped down his brow, his breath coming in heavy pants.

The boar seemed to mock him, each attempted capture slipping through Aryaman's grasp like water through his fingers. Its movements were a blur, a taunt embodied in flesh and fury. From behind, Svetavastra watched them as he caught up with them on his horse, his expression calm but his eyes keenly observant, analyzing every movement.

Aryaman circled, trying to corner the boar. He urged Himmat onward but the boar was relentless. Aryaman's frustration grew with each failed attempt. He could feel the demonic energy radiating from the beast. As the chase continued, Aryaman's breath grew ragged, his muscles burning from exertion. The boar, still full of energy, seemed tireless. Aryaman's thoughts raced, searching for a new strategy.

As Aryaman struggled with the elusive boar, Svetavastra decided it was time to intervene. He raised his hand and brought it down with a gesture, and closed his eyes in deep concentration. The air around them stilled the usual forest sounds dimming to an eerie silence. A faint hum began to resonate through the trees as purple spiritual energy flowed from Svetavastra and entrapped the boar.

The boar, mid-leap, froze in place held by the purple spiritual energy. Its frantic energy drained away, leaving it suspended for a heartbeat before it landed softly on the forest floor, calm and subdued. The red glow in its eyes faded to a gentle brown.

Aryaman reined in Himmat, his eyes wide with awe and relief. He approached the now docile creature, his breath still heavy from the chase. The boar’s transformation was astonishing; it lay there peacefully, its previous ferocity completely gone. Aryaman looked back at Svetavastra, who had lowered his hand and was watching him with a serene smile.

“Why choose the hard path when you can have the easy way?” he said simply.