Airavat

The rain has only grown heavier, each drop feeling like a bullet hitting my back, its cold sting seeping through the layers of my jacket. But none of that matters now. Nothing matters. The world around me is a storm of wind, water, and chaos, yet I am driven forward by a force far more powerful than the elements. My eyes are fixed on the source of the sound—the only thing in this world that can pull me away from the storm’s fury.

The wind, once my greatest obstacle, now pushes me forward with an almost unnatural force. The gusts roar in my ears, urging me onward, and though the ground beneath me is slick and treacherous, I push through. I can feel my shoes slipping, my footing uncertain, but I do not care. I can’t care. The sight, the sound, the promise of discovery—it calls to me with an urgency I cannot ignore. The flashlight and the metal rod I was holding have left my hand. I don't when it happened though.

I feel my brain working at full capacity, processing every detail in a split second. The lightning, the footprints, the words of the old man—all of it is clicking together in my mind, weaving a tapestry of mystery that I am desperate to unravel. The storm rages, but I barely notice anymore. All that matters is the next step, the next moment.

The rain is relentless, each droplet hammering my skin, soaking me through. The air is thick with moisture, and every breath feels heavy, as though the storm itself is pressing in on me. My fingers are numb, my body shivering, but I press on, ignoring the cold, ignoring the pain. There is only the sound, the noise I cannot quite place yet. The answer I am chasing.

As I push through the underbrush, the trees around me swaying with the force of the wind, I finally reach the clearing—the place where the sound originated. The same place I found the footprint of the animal and as I step into the clearing, my breath catches in my throat.

The sight before me is like nothing I could have ever imagined.

I freeze. Not out of fear, but because I cannot look away. I am captivated, consumed by the sheer magnificence of the creature before me. I cannot think, cannot move—there is only the overwhelming beauty of this being, a beauty that is so profound that it renders everything else meaningless. For a moment, my mind goes blank, as if the world around me has faded away, leaving only this perfect, celestial creature standing before me.

It is an elephant—a creature of such unimaginable beauty that it takes all the air from my lungs. But it is not any elephant. It is pure white, its skin glowing faintly in the dark, as if it absorbed the beauty of the moon when it was destroyed . Its tusks, four of them instead of the usual two, curl upward like the spires of ancient temples, gleaming in the light of the storm. And its trunk—majestic, long, and powerful—rests against the ground as if it is a symbol of both strength and grace.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

But it is not just the elephant’s form that strikes me. It is the way it is adorned. Every inch of its body is covered in jewels—glistening, radiant stones that reflect the storm’s fury in mesmerizing patterns. Around its neck, a thick necklace of gold and sapphire coils like a living river, its glow almost otherworldly. Its ears, wide and delicate, are lined with smaller jewels, their colors shifting in the lightning’s flash. It is not just an elephant—it is a creature of divine royalty, a being crafted by the gods themselves.

The air around it crackles with an energy I can feel deep in my bones. The storm seems to bend around it, the wind swirling with a purposeful intensity. I can see the distant flashes of lightning reflected in its eyes—eyes that shine with a knowing wisdom, ancient and powerful. And yet, despite the awe it commands, there is a gentleness in the way it moves, a grace that belies its size.

The elephant, though, is not still. It shifts slightly, its enormous feet moving with a soft thud against the wet earth. And then, as if drawn by some unseen force, it takes a step toward me. Fear floods my chest, sharp and immediate, but I am rooted to the spot, unable to move. Its gaze locks onto mine, and for a few moments, the world holds its breath.

I am acutely aware of the rain pelting my skin, the chill creeping into my bones, but none of that matters. There is only this connection—this undeniable link between me and the creature. My heart races, my thoughts spinning, but I cannot tear my eyes away. We stand there, locked in that moment, as the storm continues to rage around us, the world spinning in chaotic disarray.

But the elephant does not move closer. It simply watches me, and I, in turn, watch it. And then, slowly, it raises its head. Its trunk arches high, reaching toward the sky, and I follow its movement, tilting my own head back to face the heavens. The rain falls harder now, stinging my eyes, but I cannot bring myself to look away from the elephant.

The creature’s trunk reaches even higher, its movements deliberate and measured. And then, without warning, the elephant makes a sound—a deep, resonating call that seems to shake the very earth beneath my feet. It is a sound that reverberates in my chest, in my bones, sending shivers in my already shaking body.

My heart skips a beat, and I feel a sudden surge of energy, as though something inside me is stirring. The noise of the storm, the crash of thunder, all of it seems to fade into the background as I focus entirely on the elephant. And then, just as quickly as it came, the moment passes. The elephant lowers its trunk and turns slightly, its gaze shifting to the sky again. The lightning builds, bright and fierce, and I can feel its energy, the crackling anticipation in the air.

And then, the world tilts. The light from the lightning flashes blindingly, too quickly for me to react. My body is overwhelmed by the surge of energy in the air. My vision blurs, and before I can make sense of it, I feel my legs give way beneath me. The last thing I see is the elephant’s form outlined against the storm, its powerful presence the only anchor in a world that seems to be unraveling.

And then, everythi........

(Thud)

(Sound of Raindrops and Thunder)