The pale moonlight filtering into the cavernous entrance of the main Shiva cave at Elephanta did little to illuminate the face of the man standing before Kunal, but it glinted unnervingly off his still, light grey eyes. The offer hung in the air, heavy with implication: stumble hunted, or participate and understand. Kunal's hand tightened instinctively around the panic button keychain in his pocket, the small piece of tech feeling laughably inadequate.
Fear was a cold serpent coiling in his gut, but his innate distrust, honed by life and now amplified by the echoes of Prince Kunala's betrayal, warred with it. He couldn't afford to be passive. He forced himself to meet the man's unnerving gaze.
"Participation?" Kunal's voice was steadier than he felt. "Commitment? To what? To whom? You appear from nowhere, know things you shouldn't, talk of patterns and potential…" He took a step back, needing space. "You offer answers, but you give none. Who are you? And what is this 'pattern' you keep mentioning? Main tum par bharosa kyon karoon? (Why should I trust you?)"
A flicker of something that might have been amusement crossed the man's smooth features. A subtle, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. "Good," he said, the single word imbued with quiet satisfaction. "Distrust is a sign of intelligence, Kunala. Especially for one who has been betrayed so thoroughly."
He seemed genuinely pleased by the pushback. "You ask who I am. That is… complicated. Let us say for now that I represent an interest in seeing the pattern complete itself correctly this time. An interest significantly different from those who hunted you before, and those who watch you now." He paused, letting the implication hang. "My purpose is not to harm you. Not directly." The qualification sent another chill down Kunal's spine.
The man glanced around the dark, cavernous space, then back at Kunal. "As for your precautions…" He made a slight gesture towards Kunal's jacket pocket where the tracker was sewn, and then towards the button-bug on his shirt. "Your friends. Commendable loyalty. They are quite worried, I imagine. Unfortunately for them, this island, particularly this sanctum, is currently… insulated. Radio frequencies, satellite signals… all temporarily dampened. They cannot hear us, nor track you precisely within this field. A necessary measure, you understand. Privacy is paramount when discussing matters of Niyati (destiny)."
Kunal felt his stomach drop. Jammed. He was completely cut off. Abhishek's careful planning, useless. Ananya's remote support, severed. The man knew about the surveillance attempts and had neutralized them effortlessly. The feeling of isolation crashed down on him, heavier than the midnight darkness. He was alone with this entity.
Seeing the flicker of fear Kunal couldn't hide, the man tilted his head again. "Do not mistake capability for malice, Kunala. This isolation is also for your benefit. Others watch, as your father warned. Forces less… patient than I. They would not appreciate this conversation."
"Others?" Kunal seized on the word. "The shadow council? The Guptacharas?"
The man's expression remained unreadable. "Names change. Motivations endure. The lineage (vaṃśa) that fears your potential, that benefits from the imbalance your removal created… they persist. They are one faction. But there are others, Kunala. Those 'beyond the veil' are not monolithic." This vague confirmation was somehow more terrifying than a direct answer.
"So, what do you want?" Kunal pressed, trying to regain some semblance of control. "If not my commitment now, then what?"
"Understanding," the man replied simply. "Yours. Before you can 'participate' in the pattern, you must understand your place within it. The answers you seek are not with me to give, Kunala. They are within you – fragments scattered across time, echoed in the very stones of your past samrajya (empire)."
He gestured vaguely towards the mainland, hidden in darkness across the water. "Your memories return, yes, but they are raw, unfiltered trauma. You need context. Connection. You feel drawn to certain knowledge – the mathematics, the grammar, the structures your current mind interprets through the lens of… quantum mechanics." The man seemed to subtly taste the phrase, as if finding it both amusing and inadequate. "These are but surface refractions of deeper principles you once understood, principles encoded in the ṛta (cosmic order) itself."
Kunal stared, stunned. The quantum ideas… how?
"Follow your instincts, Kunala," the man continued, his voice smooth, persuasive. "Your sahaja pravṛtti (natural inclination). It guides you better than you know. The whispers you hear, the places you see in flashes… go to them. Visit the sites that call to your blood, to your soul. The remnants of Pataliputra, the pillar edicts of your father, the university at Taxila, the caves where monks contemplated the void (shunya), the places significant to your dharma. Touch the stones, breathe the air. The pattern will resonate. The land remembers."
He was telling Kunal to go on a quest. A pilgrimage into his own forgotten past.
"Why?" Kunal asked, suspicion warring with a strange pull towards the idea. "Why tell me this instead of just… taking me? Training me? If you want me to understand, why not teach me?"
The man's pale eyes seemed to look through him. "Because true understanding, the kind needed to navigate what is coming, cannot be imposed. It must be integrated. Reclaimed. Your past self was betrayed partly because his wisdom was inherited, not fully forged in the crucible of experience this time around. You must bridge the millennia yourself. Forge the Chakravartin from the analyst." He smiled that thin, unnerving smile again. "Besides, direct intervention attracts… unwanted attention. It is better if you appear to be simply… finding yourself."
He took a step back, glancing towards the dark water as if sensing something Kunal couldn't. "Time flows differently now, Kunala. Events accelerate. Do this jaldi (quickly). Seek your truth. Integrate the fragments." His voice dropped, losing its smooth resonance, becoming almost urgent. "Understand who you were – and why you were silenced – before the Crimson Star ascends fully. Before the choice is made for you."
And with that cryptic warning, the man turned. He didn't vanish in a puff of smoke, but seemed to simply… blend into the deep shadows at the edge of the cave entrance, his footsteps making no sound on the ancient stone. One moment he was there, the next, the space he occupied was empty.
Kunal stood alone in the echoing silence of the cave mouth, the cool night air raising goosebumps on his skin. The jamming field, if it was still active, felt like a tangible pressure. Relief warred with profound confusion and a renewed sense of dread. He hadn't been harmed, hadn't been forced. But he hadn't gotten clear answers either. Just cryptic guidance, confirmation of immense danger, and a task laid before him – a journey into the heart of his forgotten past.
Seek your truth.
He looked out towards the distant, glittering lights of Mumbai. Abhishek and Ananya would be frantic. He needed to get back, needed to tell them. First, though, he had to get off this island before dawn broke, before his boatman returned, before whatever else might be lurking in the shadows noticed the mysterious visitor had departed. He checked the burner phone. Still no signal. He was still cut off. Alone under the gaze of Shiva, with only a perilous path ahead.
To be continued…