God of War - Karmic Cycle [AU]

[namar13766]

Though it covers many of the same beats , Ganesha's story is quite different than most of the versions I've heard in Hinduism.

I wonder how Murugan's birth played out here, since as far as I remember not only is Parvati his mother, but so is the River Ganga and six celestial handmaidens.

 

[juniorsundar]

Though it covers many of the same beats , Ganesha's story is quite different than most of the versions I've heard in Hinduism.

I wonder how Murugan's birth played out here, since as far as I remember not only is Parvati his mother, but so is the River Ganga and six celestial handmaidens.

Click to shrink...

That is interesting. Which iteration of Ganesh's origin are you most familiar with?

You may find that there are some simplifications in my Fanfic with regards to the mythological stories. For instance there were a lot more characters in play here that resulted in Ganesh getting an elephant's head. But my perspective was that by adding more people into his origin, it turns from a family problem to a world-level problem. And I wanted to limit this to an interaction between a husband and wife. And Shiva does not seem to me like the kind of person who would appreciate third-parties butting into his family dynamics.

 

[namar13766]

That is interesting. Which iteration of Ganesh's origin are you most familiar with?

Click to shrink...

The one I first read about in Amar Chitra Katha.

 

[juniorsundar]

The one I first read about in Amar Chitra Katha.

Click to shrink...

I just read that story now.

Can't believe the realms went into war because Parvathi refused to let Shiva enter, and Shiva couldn't accept being seen as subservient to her .

 

[namar13766]

Can't believe the realms went into war because Parvathi refused to let Shiva enter, and Shiva couldn't accept being seen as subservient to her

Click to shrink...

Sounds incredibly Bollywood to me!

 

[juniorsundar]

Kratos left the ash-covered plateau, Shiva's cryptic words and unsettling smile lingering in his mind.

Generally, Kratos wasn't one to engage in meaningless conversation. If he expended energy talking, he ensured there was something to be gained. However, Kratos couldn't quite make sense of his exchange with Shiva.

It felt significant, yet Kratos also felt as though he hadn't gained anything tangible from it. Well, perhaps there was something - perspective.

Though try as he might, Kratos could not suppress the regret bubbling up from within whenever he thought of his deceased wife and daughter. He couldn't simply move past it, couldn't shove it aside as easily as Shiva suggested. If given an opportunity to undo it all, Kratos would seize it in a heartbeat. He refused to accept that uxoricide and filicide were prerequisite actions to define his character.

Pushing aside the burgeoning debate in his thoughts, Kratos followed along the familiar, winding path beside the river. As he cut through the dense shrubbery and approached the opening into the vast plains, Kratos observed a familiar figure waiting for him near the entrance.

Ganesh stood patiently, with one arm clasped behind his back and the other, gently stroking his trunk. The teenager's ears twitched as Kratos approached, and he turned to him with a wide smile and a happy greeting, "Kratos! Just the person I was looking for."

Kratos merely grunted in response, eyeing the god warily. "What do you want?"

"Straight to the point, as always," Ganesh chuckled. "No time for pleasantries? Very well. We are going now."

"Going where?" Kratos asked.

"To fulfil my promise, of course," Ganesh said, gesturing vaguely. "To address that little curse problem you have."

Kratos' eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Now? The boy's training is incomplete. There is much work left."

Ganesh agreed with a nod. "While the letter of the agreement remains unfulfilled, the spirit has been met. Exceeded even."

Kratos's brows furrowed as he processed Ganesh's response. Ganesh, ever-observant, immediately deciphered his confusion and expounded, "All I asked was for you to spruce up his skills with the spear. Instead, you put him on a path to becoming a better warrior and person."

"That was not my intention," Kratos said with a grunt.

"Why are you negotiating against yourself here?" Ganesh retorted in disbelief. "I'm giving you what you asked for." He tilted his head, studying Kratos. "Or... are you perhaps concerned about fulfilling your side of the bargain?"

Kratos frowned and crossed his arms. "The agreement was clear. Train the boy. Then you remove the curse."

"And you have trained him well," Ganesh affirmed. "Excellently, in fact. Far beyond simple spear work. So, tell me," Ganesh stepped closer, "if I remove this curse now, as agreed upon by our deal, will you then leave? Will you abandon Murugan?"

The question hung in the air. Kratos stared back. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken conflict. Leave? Be free of the axe, of this land, of these gods and their entanglements? Yes. But leave his end of the deal unfinished?

A slow, knowing smile spread across Ganesh's face, reaching his eyes. "Ah. I knew it!" He sounded pleased. "You're a good man, Kratos. An honourable man. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise!"

Right as Kratos was about to voice his denial, Ganesh waved a hand dismissively. "Consider this, then, merely removing a distraction. A persistent headache. Once this burden of the curse is lifted, I am confident you will find even greater... focus... for your task."

Kratos remained silent, though the assessment wasn't entirely wrong. "Where must we go?" he asked.

"Not far," Ganesh replied brightly. He reached out, placing his palm gently but firmly on Kratos's forehead. "Just close your eyes."

Kratos instinctively flinched back with flaring suspicion. "What are you-"

"Just trust in me, Kratos," Ganesh said in a calm and reassuring voice. He gently pulled Kratos closer again, pressing his own forehead against the man's. The contact was surprisingly warm.

Darkness fell instantly. The abrupt visual deprivation sharpened his other senses as an intense pressure began to build within his skull, pushing outwards. The sensation intensified rapidly, feeling as though his very being was being drawn inward and compressed through an impossibly narrowing passage.

Just as the crushing force reached an unbearable peak, it vanished. The feeling of compression reversed into a sudden, disorienting sense of falling. He braced for impact, hitting soft ground only moments later. The impact was cushioned by thick, yielding grass.

"You can get up now," Ganesh said as an elephant's face peeked over and blocked Kratos' view of the sun.

"Where is this place?" Kratos asked as he stood up. Although there was some overlap between his current location and the one before, namely the seemingly vast plains of green, there was a stark difference in what could only be described as the reality of it all.

It felt as though someone had taken the right swatches of colours for the different items all around him, but tweaked it up or down by a semi-tone. For instance, the sky was a tad greener than what a blue sky was supposed to be. The grass was a smidge yellower. And the water was clear yet highly reflective, almost like a mirror.

Just as Kratos was getting his bearings, Ganesh had already trotted off and taken a confident step onto the lake's gently rippling surface. As the boy ambled onward, the mist clinging to the water began to part, revealing a flock of swans gliding with effortless grace. One swan, however, stood out – a magnificent creature easily twice the size of the elephant-headed boy.

This regal creature approached Ganesh, and the two exchanged a polite bow of recognition. Then, its intelligent eyes fixed on Kratos, giving him a swift, appraising glance before it turned with a flick of its tail feathers, leading its brood of cygnets away.

"Well? Are you coming or do you plan to stand there all day?" Ganesh called out, already halfway across the lake.

Kratos shot a suspicious glare towards the boy before cautiously approaching the water's edge.

"It isn't real, you know," Ganesh explained, strolling back towards Kratos as if on solid ground. "None of this is."

"What?" Kratos grunted.

"This whole place-" Ganesh gestured with a wide sweep of his arms, nearly overbalancing, "-it's not technically real."

"It's all in my head," he added with a self-satisfied chuckle.

Kratos squinted. "Speak plainly, boy."

"Alright, alright!" Ganesh conceded. "Think of this place as a shared dream or a mental construct. Only a few can access it, and those who do shape its reality. What you see is how I perceive it. So, if I believe the water is solid enough to walk on, yet still fluid enough for swans to enjoy a paddle, then that's precisely how it behaves."

Kratos eyed the shimmering surface. Cautiously, he extended a foot, testing the water. It met his boot with an unexpected firmness, a sensation that directly contradicted a lifetime of experience. He slowly transferred his weight, then took a hesitant step.

One deliberate step after another, Kratos followed Ganesh across the lake. On the far side, a stone embankment rose, and beyond it stood a large, imposing palace.

"Now, this," Ganesh said, his tone shifting as they approached the structure, "is not part of my imagination. So, I'd advise against touching anything that looks like it might object."

Without waiting for Kratos's reply, Ganesh pushed open the massive, intricately carved wooden gates and stepped into the courtyard beyond.

The moment Kratos crossed the threshold, a strong gust of wind swirled around him. It carried the surprisingly pleasant aroma of fresh ink, aged parchment, and dry wooden tablets. The sight that greeted him within was bewildering. An endless assortment of books, scrolls, and stone tablets filled a library that seemed to sprout organically from every conceivable surface. Walkways, archways, and even pillars were repurposed as shelves, all groaning under the weight of accumulated knowledge. The shelves themselves stretched infinitely in all directions - left, right, up, down, disappearing into walls, around staircases, and even across sections of the floor, though clear paths were carefully maintained to prevent any accidental trampling of literature.

"Once again, I must insist-" Ganesh began, halting abruptly. "Do. Not. Touch. Anything." He punctuated the warning with a meaningful look and an almost pleading shake of his head before continuing deeper into the library.

It was then that Kratos's ears registered a faint strumming. It was an almost imperceptible vibration in the air, but as they ventured further, the sound grew, blossoming into a clear, resonant melody. An interesting motif wove through it. To Kratos's unrefined ears, it sounded like an argument set to music. One voice in the melody seemed resigned, a weary acceptance of things as they were, as if to say, "This is how it is, and we must simply endure it." The other voice, however, was more insistent, a heartfelt appeal against that resignation. It argued for change, for effort, suggesting that they didn't have to settle for mere tolerance but could strive for a connection born of genuine desire.

Or at least that was how it registered to him. It was rather impressive, Kratos admitted to himself, that he could glean so much from a mere stretch of music. As a man accustomed to the blunt rhythm of war drums, designed solely to stir the blood of marching soldiers, he typically preferred music that demanded little interpretation. Yet, this song conveyed its meaning with an effortless clarity.

The duo rounded a corner, and Kratos finally laid eyes on the source of the music. A woman sat, cradling a stringed instrument nearly as large as she was. His gaze, however, skipped over her demure form and fixed on her agile fingertips. Her left hand danced along the instrument's long neck, while her right plucked strings of varying thickness that stretched from its tip to its bulbous base.

Ganesh paused, waiting respectfully for the woman to finish her piece, and Kratos, surprisingly, found himself doing the same, completely captivated by the performance.

Fortunately, the wait wasn't long. The song transitioned into a motif that signalled a swift resolution. This final part felt less polished than what came before, and the reason became apparent the moment the woman rested her instrument.

"How did you find my edits, nephew?" the woman asked, a gentle smile gracing her lips. Her dark eyes, full of warmth, settled on Ganesh.

"Perfect," Ganesh replied with a pleased clap. "But you already knew that."

"A woman always appreciates a compliment," she responded with a soft chuckle, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. "In any case, that should suffice from my end."

She then rolled up a nearby parchment and handed it to Ganesh. He received it between his open palms and, with a slight compression, caused the roll to dissolve into a flurry of ethereal particles.

"And it seems you've brought a guest," she continued, her attention shifting to Kratos. An uncomfortable prickle danced over his skin as her incisive gaze swept over him. It was a cursory glance, yet it felt as though it pierced right through him like a hot knife through cheese.

"I have returned as you instructed - after four days," Ganesh explained. "I thought bringing the one afflicted by the curse might be more efficient. I hope I wasn't being too presumptuous."

"Only a select few have access to this realm, my dear nephew," the woman said, her voice melodious. "And those who do are individuals I trust implicitly. So, if it was your decision to bring a guest, it is your prerogative."

A brief, somewhat awkward silence settled between them.

"So..." Ganesh began, his voice a low drone, breaking the stillness. "When do we begin?"

"I... I don't know," the woman said, a note of defeat in her sigh as she shook her head, her earlier composure faltering.

"What?" Ganesh blurted out, his confusion evident.

"I truly hate to admit this," the woman confessed, her voice tinged with disappointment, "but I could not find a solution."

"B-but... But..." Ganesh stammered, his jaw practically hitting the floor. It was clear this admission had thoroughly upended the boy's worldview.

"There's no need for such a dramatic reaction," the woman chided gently, though a hint of her own annoyance and self-deprecation coloured her tone. "I am equally, if not more, disappointed in myself for failing to deliver on my promise."

"So-" Kratos interjected with a flat huff. "There is no solution."

Ganesh flailed, jumping in front of Kratos with a panicked expression. "W-wait! There is definitely a solution! I told you I would find one! Th-this is just one avenue-"

Kratos raised a hand, silencing Ganesh's frantic assurances. "Whoever this woman is, it is clear she was your best hope. If even she is helpless, what other options remain?"

"I-" Ganesh started to protest, but the words died on his lips. He couldn't bring himself to offer false hope.

"For your information, I am not his only 'trump card'," the woman cut in, a scowl briefly marring her features. "And who, precisely, is this man? He doesn't even recognize me. He has no idea where he is!"

"He is not from these lands," Ganesh explained with a wry smile.

"That much is obvious," she retorted. "I can recognize Greek when I hear it. Wait..."

The woman's gaze narrowed, her expression shifting as a flicker of dawning recognition crossed her face.

"The Ghost of Sparta," she declared, her voice suddenly laced with a dangerous edge. Kratos felt a chill run down his spine.

"The what of where?" Ganesh muttered, clearly shaken by the sudden shift in tension.

"The man you stand beside, nephew," the woman clarified, her eyes fixed on Kratos with unnerving intensity, "is the one who single-handedly destroyed an entire pantheon and left the realms that worshipped them a chaotic wasteland."

Her voice, though still melodious, now held an undercurrent of steel. "Some time ago, the usual flow of merchants and scholars from the Hellenic lands... ceased. Abruptly."

She raised a palm and a stack of scrolls oozed out of the walls. "My inquiries into the matter revealed a growing disturbance - spreading chaos in the spaces between realms. Travel became perilous and the pathways grew unstable."

She pushed the stack towards Ganesh, her gaze unwavering. "A scant few managed to traverse the ravaged corridors, barely escaping with their lives. They carried with them fragmented accounts. These were desperate missives etched onto battered scrolls and cracked tablets. These documents spoke of unspeakable atrocities. They spoke of a relentless campaign of vengeance waged by one man." Her sharp and accusing gaze flicked to Kratos again. "A man they once worshipped as the God of War. A man who, in his fury, demolished an entire pantheon, killed every diety, and left their world a ruin."

Ganesh unfurled the topmost scroll. Emblazoned across it was a crude but recognizable drawing: a pale figure marked with crimson, wielding twin blades that radiated destruction with chains welded permanently around his wrists.

Slowly, deliberately, Ganesh rolled the scroll back up and set it aside. "What is your point, Aunt?"

The woman gestured towards the pile of documents. "Is this the man you want to help? Is someone like him worthy of your assistance?"

"No," Ganesh replied simply. He pointed a finger at Kratos. "This is the man I want to help." His voice gained conviction. "And I don't believe anyone is beyond help. When people ask for aid, it is not my place to judge if they deserve it. I can only choose whether I want to help them. And... I do. I want to help him."

"Even if you don't know who he truly is?" She asked.

"Father believes that the past is irrelevant, as the present is a consequence of it," Ganesh reasoned.

The woman clicked her tongue in annoyance before rising gracefully from her cushion. Behind her, a section of the bookshelf shimmered and dissolved, revealing a dark, spiralling corridor descending into blackness. Plucking a flickering torch from a wall sconce, she stepped towards the opening.

"Follow me," she commanded over her shoulder.

"But Aunt-"

"Do you want a solution or not?" she interrupted curtly before disappearing into the descending darkness.

Ganesh swallowed a mouthful of saliva with a loud gulp. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples. He shot Kratos an uneasy glance, then gestured for him to follow, plunging into the newly formed corridor after the woman.

"Where are you taking me now?" Kratos asked plainly. He was still trying to process the woman's accusations and Ganesh's unwavering defence.

"Umm," Ganesh hummed thoughtfully, reverting to his usual demeanour, which strangely eased some of Kratos' tension. It was almost comforting that the boy's perception of him remained unchanged, even if Kratos couldn't fathom why he even cared.

"The world we are in is split into four primary realms: Svarga, Patala, Naraka and Bhuloka," Ganesh orated. "Those you should be aware of by now. Traversal between these realms is restricted by certain rules. For instance, it is strictly forbidden for those born in Bhuloka to traverse freely into the other realms - certain conditions need to be met. Those born in Svarga and Patala can traverse freely in and out, though there are exactly two portals that allow it - a set of which you must have seen above the plateau where Father performs. Anyone can enter Naraka, though exiting it requires the express permission of the Lord of Naraka."

"However, there are additional realms apart from this," Ganesh continued. "Kailasha - is a realm that borders all four. There is no restriction in place when trying to access it. It is just impossibly difficult - as you should have learned first-hand."

"The realm we are in right now is another such realm known as Brahmaloka. It exists within the minds of every sentient being across all realms. But access to it is limited to a select few as my Aunt just explained."

They finally reached the bottom of the long, descending hallway. It ended abruptly at a solid stone wall. Saraswati stood waiting while holding her torch aloft. She touched its flame to other torches set in sconces along the dead-end wall. As they flared to life, the flickering light illuminated a massive, imposing gate made entirely of carved stone, previously hidden in the gloom.

She approached the gates and gently placed her palms on the carved stone. With a light push, the gates slowly swung open, revealing a path doused in shadows.

"There is only one person in the world who wields more knowledge than I do, and that is my husband," the woman declared.

"Brahmaloka - or the Realm of Brahma - exists within all of his creation," Ganesh expressed.

"But the reason why only a few are allowed to enter it is because it is not a realm OF him, rather it is a realm FOR him," the woman chimed in.

---

Parvathy's days had settled into a predictable, almost monotonous rhythm over the years. She cooked meals, tended to the gardens, and cleaned halls. In the afternoons, she would often sit on the balcony overlooking the plains. Her fingers moved with practised ease as she knitted intricate patterns into soft wool.

Today was one such day. Her tiger-striped cat lay curled contentedly at her feet, occasionally twitching an ear as the knitting needles clicked softly in the crisp mountain air.

Suddenly, the twitching stopped. The cat sat bolt upright, its fur bristling slightly. Its gaze narrowed, fixed intently on the main gate at the entrance to their dwelling. Parvati followed her companion's stare and frowned.

Standing just outside the gate was a man she recognised almost immediately. He was dark-skinned, with a lean, powerfully built frame. His dark hair was pulled back neatly into a top knot, secured with a single, iridescent peacock feather that seemed to catch the light.

She met his gaze across the courtyard. His eyes held an unnerving stillness.

A wide and warm smile touched the man's lips, yet it didn't quite reach his eyes. There was a practised quality to it, something artificial. "It is impolite to leave a guest standing outside," he called out in a smooth and melodious voice that carried easily across the distance.

Parvathy's frown deepened. "You are no guest of mine," she replied with a cool and steady voice. "Leave this place."

The man merely chuckled and leaned casually against the sturdy gatepost. He folded his arms. "Fret not, lady of the mountain. I shall be gone soon enough. I merely await your husband's return. Speaking of which," his eyes scanned the surroundings, "I did not see him at The Convergence. Unusual."

Parvathy ignored his probing question. She rose, gathered her knitting and turned back towards the house, pointedly closing the door behind her and leaving the man outside.

Undeterred, the man shrugged. He ambled over to the cushioned seat Parvathy had just vacated on the balcony and settled into it. He swung his legs idly while whistling a soft tune as he watched the distant plains, seemingly content to wait.

A short while later, a series of lithe footsteps resounded from the gate, it was the person he awaited: the householder of the courtyard dwelling. Shiva spotted the man lounging on the balcony immediately. Their eyes met and a silent exchange occurred.

Before the stranger could speak, Shiva called towards the house, "Put down another leaf, we have a guest!"

"That won't be necessary," the dark-skinned man cut in smoothly, rising from the seat.

Shiva turned fully towards him, irritation flickering in his eyes. He disliked being denied the chance to offer hospitality, even to unwelcome visitors. "Speak then," he said curtly. "And be done with it." He raised a hand preemptively. "Save the jests and riddles. I have little patience for your usual games today."

The man, inclined his head slightly, his smile fading into a more serious expression. "As you wish. A while back, a part of me that was meant to remain anchored in Bhuloka... returned."

Shiva waited impassively. "And?"

"He was tasked with carrying a certain weapon," the man continued. "A gift from you, I believe. Yet, when I found his remains, the weapon was not with him."

Shiva remained silent. "And?" he repeated with a flat tone.

The visitor's composure tightened almost imperceptibly and a subtle tension entered his calm facade. "What happened to the axe, Shiva?"

"It found a new wielder," Shiva answered plainly, offering no further detail.

"Who?" the man pressed, his voice sharper now as his calmness strained.

"That," Shiva started plainly, meeting the visitor's intense gaze without flinching, "is no longer your concern."

The visitor's eyes narrowed and his polite mask thinned to reveal the cold calculation beneath. "It is precisely my concern. He was a crucial element in a delicate balance. A lot hinges on his presence, but now, he is no longer there."

Shiva sighed, shaking his head with a hint of weary amusement. "What is supposed to happen shall happen. That is the universal truth. I know that you know that."

"I cannot control the kind of tree a mango seed will sprout," the visitor countered smoothly, his composure regained, "but one can choose where to plant the seed."

"Putting all your seeds in one basket? Unusual for you," Shiva remarked lightly with a touch of playful mockery in his voice.

"They are not all in one basket," the visitor corrected coolly. "This path was merely the simplest."

Shiva chuckled, stepping closer and clapping a hand on the visitor's shoulder. The man didn't flinch and maintained his measured stillness. "You worry too much. The world is more resilient than you give it credit for. Parvathy has a saying about sambar – once it's cooked, adding more salt just makes a mess. The world-"

"I did not come for kitchen philosophy," the visitor interrupted, his voice still calm but firm, cutting through Shiva's anecdote. He gave Shiva an appraising look. "You've changed. You talk too much." He shook his head slightly. "Who wields the axe now?"

"A foreigner. Not from these lands," Shiva replied.

"Where is he?"

"Brahmaloka."

The visitor's composure finally broke. A flicker of genuine alarm, which he quickly suppressed, crossed his features. "Brahmaloka? What is he doing there? How did he even gain access?!"

"Most likely seeking a way to be rid of the axe," Shiva said with a hint of amusement returning to his voice, evidently enjoying the man's reaction. "My eldest took him."

"You allowed this?" the visitor's voice rose slightly. "My work is complex enough as it is, Shiva. Do not complicate it further."

The amusement vanished from Shiva's face, replaced by a quiet intensity. "I do not appreciate being told how to raise my children," he stated, "especially by someone who doesn't have an active interest in their growth."

"You have it easy," the visitor retorted, regaining his measured tone, though his eyes remained hard. "You act as you please, consequences be damned. I do not have that luxury. The balance of the realms rests heavily upon my shoulders."

"Feel free to trade places anytime," Shiva offered lightly with a challenge underlying the casual words. "I am more than happy to take the mantle of 'The Preserver'," he mocked.

The visitor let out a short, derisive laugh. "You know it doesn't work that way."

Shiva shrugged, conveying both acceptance and dismissal.

"I would appreciate it if you could keep me in the loop on whatever transpires following your son and this... guest's return from Brahmaloka," the man stated with a tone that danced precariously between a request and a demand.

"I am not going to do that," Shiva said decisively. "Now, are you staying for lunch, or not?"

"I am not going to do that," the visitor replied, mimicking Shiva's earlier flat tone before turning and dissolving into shimmering light. In his wake, he left behind the scent of lotus blossoms hanging faintly in the air.

Shiva watched the spot where the visitor had been for a moment, then shook his head and entered the house. He went to the dining area and sat cross-legged.

Parvathy emerged from the kitchen carrying two banana leaves. She placed one before him and another beside him.

"He won't be joining us," Shiva said.

"I already prepared his meal," Parvathy stated quietly, serving food onto the empty leaf nonetheless. "It will not be wasted."

Shiva sighed softly in acceptance. He then reached over and scraped the food from the extra leaf onto his own.

 

[juniorsundar]

I anticipate there to be some pushback/concerns with regards to my portrayal of Lord Vishnu. I am open to explaining my rationale if necessary.

 

[Hyperionthetitan]

Damn i need a bit of catching up to do ,forgot a bit of the plot