As Ryan set out on his desperate rescue mission, another meeting took place, entirely unbeknownst to him – a conversation that might have caused him great distress if he knew its content. Fortunately or unfortunately, the knowledge of this particular discussion remained beyond his reach.
After finishing her meeting with Ryan, the Sorcerer Supreme returned to her quiet room in Kamar-Taj and allowed herself the luxury of rest for the remainder of the day. The dawn of the next day found her up and about once more, preparing for her regular duties. But before delving into the routines of Kamar-Taj, a thought led her to another place, a necessary stop.
With a thought, she opened a shimmering portal, not to some distant, ethereal realm, but to a quaint, familiar courtyard. It was a small, sun-drenched space, filled with pleasant greenery. There, a woman, appearing to be nearing fifty, sat calmly at a low, ornate table, gracefully sipping tea from a delicate cup. Her hair was neatly braided, and her eyes, though slightly creased with age, held a profound depth that spoke of vast knowledge and quiet strength. This was Shanti, the very priestess she had watched Ryan converse with before, Ryan's formidable grandmother. A slight smile touched her lips. This conversation, unlike the last that provided entertainment, promised to a different kind of encounter.
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I was sitting in the serene courtyard of my house, the first rays of the morning sun warming my skin, as I enjoyed my morning refreshments. The air was crisp, scented with jasmine and earth, a peaceful start to the day. Suddenly, a shimmering, golden portal, rippling like disturbed water, tore open in the air near me. I didn't flinch. Instead, a faint smile touched my lips. I recognized it instantly; it was Kamar-Taj's undeniable trademark, a signature of profound mystical power.
Through the shimmering veil, a figure emerged: the bald woman in yellow robes I knew well. She stepped out, radiating an aura of ancient wisdom and quiet authority. I placed my tea cup gently on the low table beside me and asked, "What has brought the Sorcerer Supreme, the esteemed leader of Kamar-Taj, to my humble abode this fine morning?"
A subtle, knowing smirk played on her lips. "I just had a meeting with your grandson."
My eyebrows arched in playful anticipation. "Oh? And how was it? Did he behave?"
"His reactions to unexpected situations are, shall we say, quite amusing," she replied, a slight, almost imperceptible tremor of amusement in her voice. It was clear she had enjoyed herself.
Looks like someone found some entertainment in my little Rudra, I thought, a warmth spreading through my chest. He always was good at stirring things up, even as a tiny thing.
"Right? It feels great to tease him. He gets so flustered."
"That is true," she conceded, a hint of genuine shared pleasure in her tone.
Ahh, the charm of my grandson, I mused inwardly, a proud smile touching my lips. Even centuries of existence don't seem to make women immune to him.
I decided to steer the conversation back to more pressing matters. "So, why have you truly come here? Surely it is not merely to discuss the cuteness, or rather, the entertainment value of my grandson?"
At my question, her relaxed demeanor shifted, and her expression restored its usual serious, almost stoic composure. Her eyes, which moments ago held a spark of humor, now became sharp, piercing. "You do know that your grandson messed with time, don't you?"
"I do know," I confirmed, my voice calm, unfazed by the gravity of her statement. "And if it is any consolation, I can even tell you that the 'me' from before he time-traveled was there she would not have advised him against it."
Her gaze intensified, a hint of severity in her posture. "Why? As the current head priestess of the Rameshwaram temple, you have certainly been warned against the profound dangers of messing with time. The sacred texts, the ancient prophecies—they are unequivocal."
"Of course, I know," I answered truthfully, meeting her gaze steadily. "Doing it wrong, even slightly, could very well erase everything we know from existence. A single ripple, a misplaced stone, and the entire river of reality could cease to be."
"And you say you wouldn't have stopped him, why?" she pressed, her voice demanding a deeper explanation.
I took a sip of my tea, savoring the warmth, before replying. "Why should I deny him his plans, when his strategist, the one who made them, was the best one in all existence?"
Looks like he didn't tell her the full story, good for him, I thought, a small, knowing smile playing on my lips.
Her brow furrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"
"You came here most likely because you could not find anything truly wrong with his time travel, save for some minor trouble it may have caused you," I stated, a rhetorical question. "Am I right?"
Her shoulders subtly relaxed. "You are correct. So who was the one who directed him to time travel, if not himself?"
"Krishna, the one and only," I said, allowing the name to hang in the air, imbued with its immense spiritual weight. "Even you dealing with the troubles he caused was probably in His plans."
She certainly appeared startled at that revelation. Her eyes widened, and she took a sharp, almost imperceptible breath, her composure momentarily shaken. It was rare to see the Ancient One genuinely surprised.
"Are you absolutely certain?" she asked, a profound disbelief coloring her tone.
"Yes," I stated firmly, meeting her gaze with unwavering certainty.
A tremor ran through her posture, a rare display of true astonishment. "But… how is this possible?"
"My Guruji, the venerable head of the temple, shared this knowledge with me," I replied, his word carrying ultimate authority in spiritual matters. 'I see,' she finally murmured, recovering quickly. 'Then I don't need to worry about our world erasing itself from existence, at least.' She offered a rare, genuine smile, a gesture of profound relief.