The sun was beginning its slow descent beyond the horizon, casting long, slanting rays through the dense trees as Aryaman and Sanjaya guided their horses along the winding forest path. The two rode side by side, the steady clop of hooves creating a rhythmic backdrop. Aryaman cradled the silver kalasha in his hands, a sacred chalice now filled with the blessed water from the first temple they had visited, while the Eternal Flame in its lantern burned steadily beside him. Its warm, golden light was a stark contrast to the creeping shadows stretching across the forest floor.

As they continued down the path, Aryaman found his gaze drifting to the glow of the Eternal Flame, its steady flicker reminding him of the task that lay ahead.

So much depends on this light, he thought, his grip tightening around the kalasha.

"Strength, vigilance, and patience," he repeated silently to himself like a mantra, letting the words anchor him.

"I cannot fail," he told himself. "Too much is at stake."

He glanced over at Sanjaya, who rode beside him, usually chatty and lighthearted, but now quiet, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a wary focus. For Sanjaya, this journey was new, and Aryaman knew his friend had yet to fully grasp the dangers that lay ahead.

If only I could shield him from what’s coming, Aryaman thought, his chest tightening with a mix of protectiveness and dread. But there’s no running from it—not for any of us.

His thoughts drifted back to his guru, Svetavastra, and the charge that had set him on this journey.

“You need to link the local deities, Arya,” Svetavastra had told him. “Each deity's power is localized, bound to its temple and its land. But if we can connect their cosmic energies, we can create a barrier—a deterrence against the spread of this darkness.”

He had gestured to Aryaman's celestial sword, its hilt glinting in the waning light.

“Your sword can serve as the medium since it channels the divine energy.”

The plan had been simple, yet daunting. Aryaman would need to perform the cleansing rituals at each temple, gather the sacred water, and keep the Eternal Flame burning until the energies of all the deities were linked. It was a journey that required not just power, but something far more demanding.

"Strength to face the dark, vigilance to sense its every move, and patience to see this mission through," Aryaman recited under his breath, echoing the lessons drilled into him by Svetavastra. For a moment, doubt threatened to creep in, but he quickly pushed it away. "I’ve trained for this. I can’t afford to doubt myself now."

“The cosmic power that flows through your sword can stabilize these energies,” Svetavastra had explained during their training. “But remember, Arya, the dark energy is insidious. It corrupts and consumes. The rogue pretas are manifestations of that chaos.”

Aryaman had nodded then, steeling himself, but now, in the shadowed woods, the reality of those words felt heavier.

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“How are you holding up, Sanjaya? Scared?” Aryaman asked, forcing a lightness into his voice despite the storm of emotions swirling inside. He had to stay calm, for both their sakes.

“I’d be better if we weren’t heading straight into a forest that looks like it wants to swallow us whole,” Sanjaya quipped, though the nervousness was clear in his voice. “But I suppose if Himmat can manage, so can I.”

Aryaman smiled, patting Himmat’s neck. The horse snorted, his breath visible in the cooling evening air, but kept moving forward, even if hesitantly.

The sun dipped lower, and the forest around them seemed to close in, the shadows stretching longer, darker. The air grew colder, a chill that seeped into Aryaman’s bones, and he felt the familiar, creeping sense of dread. Aryaman’s eyes flicked from shadow to shadow, his senses heightened.

"Stay alert," he warned. "Every little movement, every small sound—they can make or break our mission.”

Sanjaya glanced over, his eyes wide.

“So, what exactly are we up against? These rogue pretas, you’ve faced them before, right?”

“Yes,” Aryaman replied, his tone cautious. “They’re rogue spirits, twisted by dark energy. They have no form, not really. They appear as shadows, and they feed off chaos. They’ll try to disrupt the link we’re building, and they’ll be drawn to the flame.”

He glanced at the Eternal Flame, still flickering steadily, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the rogue pretas sensed its light.

Without warning, a figure darted out from the shadows, a dark, twisted shape that moved with unnatural speed. Aryaman’s heart lurched, but he held firm, quickly assessing the threat. The creature’s hollow eyes, sunken deep into a disfigured face, locked onto him, its mouth stretched into a grin that was too wide, too sharp. Tendrils of shadow twisted around its limbs, crackling with red, demonic energy.

"By the gods!" Sanjaya gasped, his eyes wide with horror. "What is that thing?"

"A rogue preta," Aryaman replied, his voice calm but firm. "Stay close, Sanjaya. Do not let them separate us."

Himmat reared, letting out a startled whinny, but Aryaman quickly steadied him. He moved slowly, ensuring the sacred water did not spill. He slid the Eternal Flame into a harness on the saddle, keeping it secure. The flame flickered but held steady, its light cutting through the darkness yet attracting the ravenous gaze of the rogue pretas.

Aryaman reached for his celestial sword, the blade gleaming as he drew it from its scabbard with a smooth, swift motion. The rogue preta hissed, recoiling slightly as the sword’s light brushed against it. He carefully tracked the entity’s movements, preparing for its next lunge.

More shapes began to emerge from the shadows, each one more twisted and grotesque than the last. There were five of them now, their movements chaotic, unpredictable.

"Aryaman, there are more of them!" Sanjaya shouted, his voice cracking with panic. "What do we do?"

Aryaman’s mind was racing to find a solution, he knew he could only ward the pretas away with his celestial sword but how should he stop them?

If there are rogue pretas, Aryaman thought, could there be a ley line intersection nearby?

The rogue pretas closed in, their erratic movements like shadows skittering across the forest floor. The pretas hissed, their guttural snarls echoing through the trees as their dark forms twisted and flickered, darting in and out of the shadows. They slithered closer, encircling Aryaman and Sanjaya like a pack of wolves.

Aryaman’s eyes flicked to the shimmer just ahead. He could feel its energy, the ley line intersection was indeed ahead of them. He halted Himmat suddenly, turning to face the approaching rogue pretas.

With a sudden motion, he raised his sword high and plunged it into the ground. The air around them crackled, and a blinding light erupted, swallowing everything. For a moment, the rogue pretas hesitated, their forms caught between the pull of the light and the dark.

"What are you doing?" Sanjaya shouted, as the ground trembled beneath them.

The last thing Sanjaya saw was Aryaman’s eyes, fierce and determined, as the clearing exploded in light, and everything went dark.