𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 || ArDi ||

Epilogue.

PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE AFTER THIS!

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The one thing Arjun had learnt in his life was that the element of water was powerful. It could wash away earth, and put out fire. Despite being gentle, even iron could not withstand it. It could carve a way through stones and when trapped, it made a new path. 

Water was powerful. 

But was it anything without the fire?

Of what use was the water in the bodies which did not have the fire of stars and sun in their hearts?

Of what use were the young twigs who beheld the most moisturized leaves, if they could not provide warmth to the freezing person?

What meaning did The Thunder Prince have, if not the Fireborn that warmed his insides?

The last thought left Arjun's mind, and his heart chanted the holy mantra of his life. Krishnaa. 

He was accepted by the gentle waters as it fluttered about his waist, knowing that he was a part of each drop that conscised the ocean. 

The lightning struck again and again, reflecting the chaos in his heart. The thunder rumbled and roared, embracing the darkness of the night as it resonated till the highest roars of the sky, like the turmoil in his soul. The Prince of Thunder and lightning, of rain and of galaxies, seemed the least famed by it. He had his eyes set on his destination, his Krishnaa. 

His steps in the water did not seem to faze by the base of thunderstorms, the billowing tops of the cumulonimbus, the lightning that effortlessly lit up the sky and the deep waters. 

The lightning darted out of a dark, black cloud and turned the night into a day for a second before it retreated in the blink of an eye taking along with itself, its bright heralds. 

It showed that the nature too needed to let out the vexation, to scream, to yell, and flare. 

The storm clouds had rolled in, herdaled by dazzling claps of thunder and lightning that boasted an ocean of tears. 

The sky was mourning. 

And so were the trees that sighed through the trade winds, the sand that did not dance in the zephyr and the waters which embraced their finest creation. 

And a single thought passed through the many minds. 
Yagyaseni must rise again. 

An on a cue, one strike of lightning contested through the dreary clouds-- confronted and energized-- before it dropped onto the ground. The friction between the clouds gave rise to a vivid, radiant and alight ray of light that cascaded onto the earth like the heavenly Apsara of the beauteous court. A small twig, devoid of any moisture, flared as the lightning transferred the energy into it and it ablazed with the newfound vigour. 

No one dared to stop the twig as it let the gusts of heaven take away its ember that fell onto the ground, and the well said phare came alive-- Even a small ember, can light a forest fire. 

The entire bank of the river broke into the hellish fire. It seemed alive as it danced and swayed in the wind. The inner chamber gleamed a bright blue, and mirrored a fragment of the waters. It smelt of charred wood, and tasted like ash and smoke. The crackle was suppressed by the loud roar of the fire as it soared to the heaven. It consumed everything it found, and burned with searing hot flame. The conflagration rose higher and higher till the sky matched its hues. 

They both together painted the landscape with palette of aureolin, crimson, carmine and azure. The once dark sky enrobed the silken fabrics of velvety fire as they merged together to become one. The blazing heart allowed no one to come near. The gusts fuelled the fierce fire they had once provoked.