The mist parted as Raghav followed Master Arvind beyond the temple grounds of Kashi Gurukul. The air thickened with ancient power, whispering in tongues only the soul could understand. Nyra's ears twitched; even she felt the shift. They entered a hidden glade behind the waterfall, concealed by an illusion older than the Gurukul itself.
There it stood—Shivraashi, the Sacred Ground of Cultivation.
Carved into a natural hollow, Shivraashi was an ancient crater bathed in perpetual twilight, where the moon and sun seemed to coexist. In the center rose a luminous white lotus blooming atop a floating stone slab, suspended over a mirror-like pond. Around the edges, ancient runes pulsated in rhythm with the heartbeat of the land itself.
Arvind's voice was reverent. "This is where the first Rishis of Dominion communed with divinity. Where spirit and beast become one."
As Raghav stepped forward, the pond rippled. The Staff of Shiva began to glow faintly, resonating with the sacred energy of Shivraashi. He felt his mind expand, his senses stretch across the landscape—he could feel the breath of the wind, the warmth of the beasts nearby, even the quiet sorrow of the land scarred by ancient war.
Raghav sat cross-legged on the edge of the lotus pond, and the world fell silent.
Visions came: a red-eyed serpent coiled around a mountain of skulls, a flaming deer leaping between stars, and in the sky above them all, a divine figure—the silhouette of Mahadev himself, eyes closed, lost in cosmic meditation.
Raghav opened his eyes, trembling. Something inside him had shifted.
Nyra stood beside him, tail lowered in quiet awe. "The Shivraashi doesn't give power—it reveals truth. You saw something, didn't you?"
He nodded. "I saw Lord Shiva."
Arvind's tone was calm, yet firm. "Then the Tournament of Celestial Bonding must begin. If what you saw was real… the balance of Dominion may soon change forever."