Arjun Mehra's grip tightened on the lotus-carved dagger Priya had thrust into his hand, its weight unfamiliar compared to the pens he'd twirled during endless Delhi study sessions. The Festival of a Thousand Flames buzzed around him, its floating lotus lamps casting flickering shadows on the stone platform where Priya stood, her trishul gleaming like a crescent moon. The air crackled with tension, the sitar music drowned by the hisses of approaching rakshasas. Above, on a floating island shrouded in mist, the asura prince's crimson eyes glowed like embers, watching the chaos unfold. The Vedic System's warning—Hostile Forces Detected—flashed in Arjun's vision, his measly 30 Karma Points mocking his inexperience. Survive the night? he thought, heart pounding like a dhol at a wedding baraat. I'd settle for surviving the next ten minutes.
Priya's voice cut through the din. "Move, city boy!" She vaulted off the platform, her armor clinking like temple bells, and landed in the market square. The crowd scattered, humans and nagas alike fleeing as three rakshasas emerged from the jungle's edge, their charred skin and red eyes glinting under the festival lights. One clutched a jagged spear, another wielded a curved blade, and the third, larger than the rest, bared claws that could shred an auto-rickshaw.
Arjun stumbled after her, his kurta sticking to his sweat-soaked back. "You said protect the temple!" he shouted, dodging a glowing fruit that rolled from an overturned stall. "Not fight a demon army!"
Priya shot him a look, her braid swinging as she parried a rakshasa's spear with her trishul. "The Flame of Agni is inside the temple," she said, her voice steady despite the chaos. "If they take it, Bharatvarsha's prana fades. No pressure, hero." Her sarcasm could've rivaled his own, and Arjun almost grinned—until the largest rakshasa charged him.
He yelped, raising the dagger like he'd seen in Bollywood fight scenes. "Om Prana Ignis!" he chanted, the amulet around his neck buzzing. A burst of sparks flew from his hand, brighter than before, scorching the rakshasa's arm. It roared, swiping its claws, and Arjun dove behind a stall, the wood splintering under the impact. This is worse than dodging Delhi traffic, he thought, his breath ragged.
Priya was a whirlwind, her trishul spinning as she drove back the second rakshasa. "Focus your prana!" she yelled. "Feel the amulet, not your fear!" Her movements were fluid, like a Kalaripayattu fighter he'd once seen at a cultural fest, each strike precise yet fierce. A naga vendor slithered up, tossing Priya a vial of glowing liquid—prasad, maybe?—which she caught without breaking stride.
Arjun scrambled to his feet, the amulet warm against his chest. Feel the prana. Right. Like I know what that means. He closed his eyes, picturing the golgappa vendor's fiery chutney, the heat of a Delhi summer, anything to anchor him. The Vedic System pinged: Prana Gauge: 20%. "Om Prana Ignis!" he shouted again, this time aiming at the rakshasa's legs. A stream of sparks erupted, stronger and hotter, tripping the beast. It crashed into a stall, sending glowing fruits flying like Holi powder.
Priya finished her opponent with a thrust, the rakshasa dissolving into black mist. She glanced at Arjun, her eyes widening slightly. "Not bad," she said, catching her breath. "But don't get cocky. We need to reach the temple—now."
The temple loomed ahead, its carved stone walls glowing with runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. Its spire, topped with a golden flame, cast a warm light over the festival, but the lamps above flickered, some extinguishing as the rakshasas' hisses grew louder. Arjun followed Priya, his sandals slapping the stone path. The crowd had thinned, leaving only a few brave nagas and humans chanting mantras, their voices like a faint puja against the chaos.
Inside the temple, the air was cool, scented with sandalwood and camphor, like the mandir near Arjun's Delhi flat where his mother dragged him every Navratri. A massive statue of Agni, the fire god, dominated the chamber, its eyes carved from rubies that seemed to watch him. At its base, a brazier held the Flame of Agni—a fist-sized orb of fire that pulsed with prana, its heat warming Arjun's skin even from a distance.
Priya knelt briefly before the statue, her trishul resting against her shoulder. "The Flame is Bharatvarsha's heart," she said, her voice softer, almost reverent. "It channels prana to the devas. The asuras want it to weaken the gods."
Arjun's throat tightened. "And I'm supposed to guard this? I can't even keep my room clean."
Priya's lips twitched, but her eyes stayed sharp. "The sage chose you. The system chose you. Start acting like it." She handed him the vial of glowing liquid. "Drink. It's soma, a sacred elixir. It'll boost your prana."
Arjun eyed the vial, its contents shimmering like liquid starlight. "This better not be some fantasy version of bhang." He uncorked it, the scent sharp and sweet, like prasad mixed with mango lassi. He drank, and warmth flooded his body, like the first sip of chai on a winter morning. The Vedic System flashed: Soma Consumed. Prana Gauge: 50%. New Mantra Unlocked: Vayu's Breath.
"Vayu's Breath?" Arjun muttered. "What, I'm a human AC now?"
Priya grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the temple's entrance. "Test it outside. They're coming."
The jungle beyond the temple roared with movement. More rakshasas—five now—slunk through the festival, their claws slashing lamps, plunging the clearing into twilight. The asura prince's silhouette loomed larger on the floating island, his laughter echoing like thunder. Priya raised her trishul, but Arjun's eyes caught a flicker in the temple's shadows—a cloaked figure, human-like, slipping toward the Flame of Agni.
"Priya!" Arjun shouted, pointing. "Someone's inside!"
She cursed, spinning toward the brazier, but the largest rakshasa charged, blocking her path. "Deal with the intruder!" she yelled, parrying the beast's claws. "I'll handle these!"
Arjun's pulse raced. Me? Handle a thief? He clutched the dagger, the soma's warmth pulsing in his veins. The Vedic System glowed: Quest Update: Protect the Flame of Agni. Intruder Detected. He sprinted toward the brazier, the temple's runes flaring as he passed. The cloaked figure—a human, not a rakshasa—reached for the Flame, their hand gloved in dark leather.
"Stop!" Arjun shouted, his voice cracking like a teenager's. He focused on the soma's heat, picturing the windy Delhi evenings when kites soared over rooftops. "Om Vayu Venti!" he chanted, guessing the mantra's trigger. A gust of wind burst from his hand, knocking the intruder back. The cloak fell, revealing a young man with sharp features and a smirk, his eyes glinting with asura-like malice.
"Not bad, reborn," the man said, his voice smooth as a Bollywood villain's. "But you're too late." He tossed a black crystal toward the Flame, and the brazier flared, its fire dimming as dark tendrils snaked through it.
The Vedic System blared: Warning: Flame of Agni Compromised. Quest Failure Imminent. Outside, Priya's trishul clashed with rakshasa claws, her shouts barely audible over the festival's screams. Arjun's hands shook, the dagger heavy. I'm no hero, he thought, memories of his sister's rakhi and his father's lectures flashing. But I'm all this place has.
He lunged, aiming the dagger at the crystal, but the intruder vanished in a puff of smoke. The temple shook, runes flickering, as the asura prince's laughter grew louder. Priya burst in, blood streaking her armor, her eyes wide. "Arjun, the Flame! Save it, or we're done!"
The system pinged: Karma Points: +30. New Objective: Restore the Flame. Arjun stared at the dimming orb, his heart pounding like a monsoon storm. Golgappas were definitely easier than this.