How to Save the World Book 1: The Crown Prince Becomes Disciple of a Fallen God

As the night draped its velvety cloak over the opulent palace of Arang, Svetavastra was escorted to his quarters—a room that seemed to encapsulate the wealth and grandeur of the entire kingdom. The lavish decor, the intricate tapestries adorning the walls, and the gentle glow of the oil lamps cast a golden hue over everything, creating an atmosphere of serene luxury.

The preta in the bracer, gawked at everything with its make-believe eyes, it was taken aback by the splendour of the room, a stark contrast to the austere lifestyle it knew Svetavastra preferred. As Svetavastra settled in, preparing for a night of meditation and reflection, the preta couldn't contain its curiosity and wondered aloud,

“All this for one person?”

"This... this is unlike anything I've seen, No-god God,” it continued, “and yet you are making your bed on the floor!”

Svetavastra, who had been arranging a simple sleeping mat on the floor, looked up, a faint smile gracing his lips. "Luxury is a distraction," he said simply, his attention turning back to his preparations.

"About earlier today," the preta started, a hint of hesitation in its voice. "You said I did not ask to be your disciple. That I lack focus."

"Yes," Svetavastra replied, pausing in his task. "Focus is crucial for the path you seem eager to tread."

The preta swirled around, creating a miniature vortex of air in the bracer.

"But what if I want to learn? Even if my focus is... lacking. Can you not teach me to improve it? To be better?"

Svetavastra studied the preta, his expression illusive.

"The path of cultivation is hard for mortals,” he said. “For pretas like you, it could be near impossible.”

"I am willing to face those trials," the preta insisted, its voice carrying a determination that surprised even itself. "Teach me, No-god God. Allow me to prove that even a preta can rise above its nature, with proper guidance.”

The room, illuminated by the soft light of the lamps, seemed to hold its breath as Svetavastra made his decision.

"Very well," he said, his voice firm yet not without warmth. "If you are sincere in your wish to learn, I will guide you."

The preta, its form stabilizing with a newfound determination, nodded eagerly. "Thank you, No-god God. I... I will not disappoint you."

"As your first lesson," Svetavastra continued, "learn to appreciate the silence of the night. Let it teach you the value of stillness, of focus."

“Ahh!” groaned the preta. “I hope this is not a ploy for No-god God to keep my mouth shut!”

Svetavastra sat cross-legged on the floor on his mat and closed his eyes to meditate.

"Father," Aryaman greeted the king, his voice echoing slightly in the vastness of the chamber.

The king studied his son, noting the subtle changes, the sparkle in his eyes, the confidence in his shoulders, Aryaman for some reason was happy.

"Aryaman,” said the king. “I take it that finding a guru has put you in good spirits.”

“He’s not just any guru, father,” said Aryaman. “He’s amazing! You should have seen him battle the undead corpses! The grace with which he wielded the sword!” Aryaman began to animate some of the moves of Svetavastra he remembered.

“I granted your wish,” the king continued. “I will declare to the court that Svetavastra is your official guru and that you will accompany him to eliminate the undead menace.”

Aryaman’s eyes lit up. He came forward and hugged his father despite himself. The king though taken aback by this sudden expression of affection, patted his son on the back.

“I need you to listen to me now as a subject,” said the king.

Aryaman distanced himself from the king and took a bow.

“Yes, Your Highness,” he said in a serious tone.

"The General has agreed to make a Blood Oath to you," the king said.

A Blood Oath? thought Aryaman. That’s serious business.

“Why now, Your Highness?” asked the prince. “Do you suspect the general?”

“I’m not sure,” said the king. “But I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Hmm,” said the prince pondering it over. “Why didn’t you ask him to make the Oath to you, Your Highness?”

The king smiled.

“As a king, my duty is to secure the future of the kingdom,” said the king. “Not myself. You are its future, Aryaman.”

Aryaman let the weight of those words sink into him. His initial high spirits dampened a little. His heart foreboded of future times when he would need to make difficult decisions and where his own autonomy and desires might mean nothing. Yet, a part of him wants to rebel against the chains of duty, yearning for the freedom to forge his own path.

“Yes, Your Highness,” said Aryaman. “I will not forget my duty to Dayita.”

“For now, I will leave you to Svetavastra,” said the king. “For now.”

Aryaman felt he could breathe again. As he turned to leave, a resolve settled within him. He will make the best of what he has at the moment. When the time comes for him to make the sacrifices he is destined to make as a king, he would do them. For now, he would be a disciple, undergoing his training under a spiritual master.

The chamber's doors closed behind him, leaving the king alone with his thoughts, gazing out at the stars that watched over their kingdom.

Ila, he thought to himself, are you watching over our son?

Lord Samye stood in the floating pavilion with the fish pond. The smell of incense from the marble holder permeated the air as a gentle breeze spread the incense smoke across. Lord Vaiswa appeared on the floating pavilion.

"Lord Samye," Vaiswa said, “It’s been a while.”

“Lord Vaiswa,” greeted Lord Samye with a bow. “Indeed, my lord. A great while. It’s good to see you.”

Lord Vaiswa smiled. They stood shoulder to shoulder as they overlooked the fish pond.

“The three fish are still thriving,” he remarked.

Lord Samye nodded with a bit of pride.

“They are the General’s wards,” he said. “They would of course thrive.”

“Atisha does have the best of people rooting for her,” Lord Vaiswa commented.

Lord Samye eyes dimmed as if attacked. A sense of sadness and guilt crept in.

“The best of us betrayed her,” he said. “That’s the reality.”

“That may be true of the past,” said Lord Vaiswa slowly. “It may change in the future.”

Lord Samye went still and looked at Lord Vaiswa. He knew instinctively that whatever Lord Vaiswa was going to mention henceforth, it would be strictly confidential between the two of them.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“Atisha is on Bhu-loka,” said Lord Vaiswa.

Lord Samye eyes immediately welled up with tears.

“She’s alive,” he muttered more to himself. “Thank heavens, thank heavens!”

Lord Vaiswa patted Lord Samye on his shoulders gently as if to comfort him.

“She does not have her cosmic weapons,” said Lord Vaiswa. “She’s relying on her spiritual powers for the time being to fight against the dark energies of Patala-loka.”

“Dark energies of Patala Loka?” echoed Lord Samye, his eyes widening in shock.

“You heard me,” said Lord Vaiswa, “the sealing of the barrier between Swarga-loka and Bhu-loka may not be as simple as it seems.”

“But all of the gods are here in Swarga-loka!” said Lord Samye imagining the horrors that could unfold. “If Patala-loka wants to take over Bhu-loka, if would be as easy as plucking a flower off the ground!”

“Don’t underestimate your General,” said Lord Vaiswa with a smile.

“Of course not,” said Lord Samye. “If anyone can stop those forces, it would be General Atisha. But if only there’s some way to help her…”

“I’m to return to my deep meditation,” said Lord Vaiswa. “My shadow can descend to Bhu-loka as a mortal. I can guide the general and help her retrieve her weapons.”

“That’s great!” said Lord Samye his eyes lighting up. “And what part do I play in this?”

“I want you to guard my celestial body,” said Lord Vaiswa. “If someone interrupts my meditation, the mortal body would be in peril.”

“Understood,” said Lord Samye. “I will stand guard.”

“Can you stand guard even against Lord Purandhara?” Lord Vaiswa asked looking Lord Samye in the eye.