A/N: As I said this book is my first love and i can't stop thinking about it, that's why..... Trued different style of Writing hope you guys like it....
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The night was quiet in Mahishmati, the city's golden spires glowing under a blanket of stars. In the heart of the palace, Rudra Pratap, King of Mahishmati, tossed in his sleep. His dreams were a tangle of battles, divine voices, and a single, nagging question: Why am I here? Then, like a lightning bolt through his soul, a vision struck—snow-capped peaks, a divine presence, a call he couldn't ignore.
"Kailash…" he whispered, bolting upright, his heart racing. His eyes flickered with a faint cosmic glow, sweat beading on his brow. Maa, Paa, Bhaiya Ganesha, Bhaiya Kartikeya—I need you.
The Mahabharat was coming, its shadow creeping closer. Before it swallowed Bharatvarsh, Rudra needed to face his divine family and unravel the mystery of his existence.
Morning sun spilled into the royal dining hall, where the clatter of plates and the scent of buttery naan filled the air. Rudra's family—his father Suresh Pratap, mother Bela, sister Ishita, uncle Veer Pratap, and aunt Sumitra chatted and laughed, their warmth a balm to Rudra's restless heart. He poked at his shahi paneer, his mind miles away, already climbing Kailash's slopes.
Finally, he set his spoon down, the soft clink cutting through the chatter. "Pitaji, Maa," he said, his voice steady but laced with something heavy. "I'm going on a pilgrimage to Kailash. I don't know when I'll be back."
The room went dead silent. Suresh's hand froze, a piece of naan dangling from his fingers. Bela's eyes widened, her mother's heart sensing trouble. Ishita, all fire and frost, slammed her palm on the table, her braid swinging.
"Kailash?!" she snapped, her voice sharp as an arrow. "Bhaiya, are you out of your mind? That place is a death trap—demons, blizzards, cursed paths! I'm coming with you, and that's final!"
Rudra's lips twitched into a crooked smile, his eyes softening at his sister's fierceness. "Arre, meri sherni," he teased, leaning toward her. "This isn't a battlefield for your ice arrows. I need to go alone, Ishu. It's… a personal thing. A call from the gods."
Ishita's eyes narrowed, her pout fierce. "Personal? What's so personal that you can't take your sister? You're the King, Bhaiya! You don't just wander off to some icy mountain!"
Rudra chuckled, but his gaze grew distant. "Sometimes, even kings need to walk as men, not rulers. I need to stand before the divine, to clear my head for what's coming."
Suresh's deep voice rumbled, his brow furrowed. "Putra, the winds of war are stirring. Why Kailash, why now?"
Rudra met his father's eyes, careful not to let his deeper doubts spill out. "Pitaji, I've built Mahishmati into a beacon of Dharma. But a king must be sure his path is true. Kailash calls, and I have to answer. For our people."
Bela's hand trembled as she reached for his. "Beta, you're our heart. Go if you must, but promise you'll come back to us."
Rudra clasped her hand, his throat tight. "Maa, I'll always come back. Mahishmati's my blood."
Veer, his fiery uncle, leaned back with a smirk. "Tch, Kailash, eh? That's no Sunday trek, lad. Sure you don't want your kaaka's bow to scare off the beasts?"
Rudra grinned, the tension easing. "Kaaka, if I took you, who'd keep Mahishmati's forges lit? Besides, I'm going old-school—no boons, no astras, just me and a stick."
Sumitra gasped, her eyes wide. "No boons? Rudra, you're the Supreme Ruler! Why make it so hard?"
Rudra stood, his saffron robes catching the light. "Because the gods don't speak to men who take shortcuts. This is my path."
Suresh nodded, his pride battling his worry. "Then go, Maharaj. I'll hold the throne as your regent. Mahishmati will stand strong till you return."
Ishita crossed her arms, still grumpy. "You better not get lost up there, Bhaiya, or I'll freeze Kailash to drag you home!"
The family burst into laughter, the sound wrapping Rudra like a warm shawl. He loved them fiercely, but Kailash's call was louder. He was going to see his divine family—Maa Parashakti, Paa Shiva, and his big brothers, Ganesha and Kartikeya. Maybe they could help him make sense of the storm in his soul.
The road to Kailash was a beast of its own, all jagged cliffs and howling winds. Rudra, in simple saffron, carried a wooden staff and a small satchel, leaving his divine powers untouched. This wasn't about being the Supreme Ruler; it was about being a man, searching for truth.
Through the thick Vindhyachal forests, his mind churned like a restless river. Purpose kya hai? Why this world? Why the Mahabharat? Did I choose this life, or was it thrust upon me? Am I breaking Niyati, or am I its pawn? The questions clawed at him, each one heavier than the last. But the thought of Maa's hug, Paa's gruff wisdom, Ganesha's teasing, and Kartikeya's fiery grin kept his feet moving.
On the seventh day, in a narrow ravine, the air turned sour, thick with menace. A bone-rattling roar split the silence, and the ground quaked. From the shadows lumbered a Rakshasa boar—tusks gleaming with venom, hide like molten steel, eyes burning red. It was a monster, big as a hill, its snarl promising death.
"Well, damn," Rudra muttered, twirling his staff. "Kailash really knows how to roll out the welcome mat."
The boar charged, hooves shattering stone. BOOM! Dust exploded as Rudra dove aside, his heart pounding. The beast roared, the sound a gut-punch that toppled trees.
"Alright, big fella, let's tango!" Rudra yelled, his grin wild. The boar lunged, tusks slashing like twin guillotines. Rudra ducked, rolled, and swung his staff, smacking its flank.
CRACK!
The wood groaned, the impact jarring his bones 'No boons, huh? This is nuts.'
The fight was pure chaos, like a blockbuster showdown. The boar's tusks carved craters, rocks flying like shrapnel.
Rudra danced through the mayhem, his staff a blur as he struck joints and weak spots. The beast's venomous breath scorched the air, singeing his robes, but Rudra vaulted through the flames, laughing like a madman.
'Purpose kya hai?' The question burned in his mind, fueling his fire.
Is this my test? To prove I can face the divine as a man?
The boar roared, charging with earth-shaking fury. Rudra planted his staff, leaped over its back, and landed with a spin.
THWACK!
He slammed the staff into its skull, hitting a nerve. The beast staggered, bellowing, but swung its tusks in a deadly arc.
"Enough of this!" Rudra roared, his voice raw. He dodged, grabbed a tusk, and twisted with every ounce of mortal strength, flipping the beast onto its side.
BOOM!
The ground shuddered as he drove his staff into its neck, striking true. The boar's form dissolved into black mist, vanquished.
Rudra staggered back, panting, his robes torn, his body bruised. "Not bad for a guy with a stick," he gasped, grinning.
He looked up at Kailash's peaks, their snow glowing under the moon. The real challenge was still ahead.
Weeks bled into one another as Rudra climbed higher, battling icy winds, avalanches, and ghostly beasts born of ancient curses. Each trial tested his grit, his doubts growing louder.
Why me? Why this world? Did he do everything correct? But he pushed on, driven by the promise of his divine family.
At last, he reached Kailash's base, the mountain looming like a god's throne. He dropped to his knees, his breath misting in the freezing air. "Maa… Paa… I made it."
A golden light swallowed him, and the world shifted. He stood in a celestial realm, the air humming with power. Shakti appeared, her red saree glowing like dawn, her eyes brimming with love.
Shiva stood beside her, his trishul a beacon, his grin both fierce and warm.
Ganesha, his big brother, waddled forward, his trunk twitching with mischief.
Kartikeya, the warrior brother, leaned on his spear, his peacock mount shimmering.
"Beta!" Parashakti cried, rushing to hug Rudra, her embrace washing away his exhaustion.
"My brave boy, you're here!"
Rudra buried his face in her shoulder, his voice muffled. "Maa… I missed you so much."
Shiva's laugh boomed, shaking the stars. "Missed us, huh? You've been turning Bharatvarsh upside down, lad! Even the Asuras are scared to say your name!"
Ganesha's eyes twinkled as he nudged Rudra with his trunk. "Chhote, you look like you wrestled a mountain! A Rakshasa boar, really? With a stick? That's some guts!"
Kartikeya smirked, his spear glinting. "Guts or stupidity, Ganesh? Our little brother's got fire, but those eyes are screaming questions. What's eating you, Rudra?"
Rudra stepped back, his chest tight, his voice low. "Maa, Paa, Bhaiya… I need to know. Why was I reborn? Why the Mahabharat? Am I fighting Niyati, or am I its tool? I've changed so much—Karna, Krishna, Mahishmati—but what if it's wrong?"
Parashakti's smile was gentle, but she held up a hand. "Beta, these are heavy questions. The answers aren't simple, and they're not for today. You've come far, but Kailash tests the heart as much as the body."
Shiva's eyes gleamed, his voice a low rumble. "You're our son, Rudra. That's enough for now. rest here, and when the time's right, we'll unravel your path."
Ganesha plopped down, munching a modak. "Chhote, don't stress. Answers will come, but you gotta chill with your big bhai first."
Kartikeya laughed, slinging an arm around Rudra. "Yeah, let's spar later, little man. Show me if you can keep up without those fancy boons!"
Rudra smiled, his heart lighter but his questions still burning. He nodded, bowing. "Pranam, Maa. Pranam, Paa. Thank you… for being here."
As he settled into the divine realm, Kailash's peaks glowed outside. His purpose was still a mystery, but with his family by his side, he felt ready for whatever came next. The Mahabharat was waiting, and Rudra, the King of Mahishmati, would face it head-on.