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

Svetavastra sat cross-legged under the tree. She closed her eyes, her breathing slow and rhythmic, the sounds of the forest fading into a distant hum. The cool, damp earth beneath her was grounding, the rough bark of the tree pressing into her back a reminder of her connection to the world around her.

After what felt like hours of deep meditation, Svetavastra slowly opened her eyes. She stood up, her movements deliberate and calm. As she stretched, her form began to shift, the ethereal glow around her intensifying briefly before settling into the familiar contours of her male guise. Her features sharpened, her shoulders broadened, and her long, flowing hair receded into a more practical cut. She chose the male form for several reasons. As a woman, her striking beauty often drew unwanted attention from humans, distracting her from her mission. Moreover, navigating the world of men, especially around figures like Prince Aryaman and other warriors, was easier in a male guise.

Despite the necessity of this transformation, Svetavastra felt a pang of hesitation. Manu, the man she had developed some unnameable feelings for, had only known her in her female form. She worried how he would react to seeing her like this, whether he would recognize the person beneath the change.

Why am I so conflicted? she wondered, a frown creasing her brow. She had changed forms countless times before, always with ease and without hesitation. Yet, this time was different. Why does it matter what Manu thinks? she questioned herself, the unfamiliar sensation of doubt creeping in.

Svetavastra's mind wandered back to their time together. Manu's gentle smile, the warmth in his eyes, the way he spoke to her with a blend of respect and affection. She had felt a connection, a bond that went beyond the usual interactions she had with others. In her female form, she had felt seen, and understood in a way that was rare and precious.

He knows me as Svetavastra, the woman, she thought, her heart aching with uncertainty. Will he still see me the same way in this form? Will he understand that beneath this exterior, I am still the same person?

The conflict within her was unlike anything she had experienced before. As a divine being, she had always prided herself on her ability to remain detached, to make decisions based on necessity rather than emotion. But now, emotions she couldn’t quite name tugged at her heart, making her question her choices in a way that was both unsettling and profound.

I have never hesitated like this before, she reflected, the realisation hitting her with the force of a wave. What is it about Manu that makes me feel this way? Is it entirely the effect of the chakra imbalance?

She shook her head, trying to dispel the thoughts that clouded her mind. Focus on the present Svetavastra, she told herself firmly. There are greater issues at hand.

Beside her, the preta hovered, its translucent form flickering like a ghostly flame.

“No-god God!” it exclaimed, its voice filled with an unfamiliar calm. “I feel... different. More at peace. The perpetual torture, the scorching heat of day, and the freezing cold of night—it all feels less intense.”

Svetavastra nodded, sensing the creature’s transformation.

“That’s good progress,” Svetavastra said softly. “In due time, you can subdue the sensations you feel now completely.”

The preta bobbed in agreement.

“Thank you, no-god God. I feel I can become your disciple just like the prince now.”

Svetavastra smiled, placing a reassuring hand on the preta’s ethereal form, patting it gently.

“You’re doing well. Let’s head back to Arang.”

The sky above the palace of Arang was painted in hues of orange, pink, and purple, casting a warm, diffused light over the grand structure. Soft lanterns began to glow along the pathways with gentle flicker. The air was filled with the delicate fragrance of blooming jasmine from the palace gardens. Inside his chamber, Aryaman sat at a large wooden desk, his posture straight and attentive. The soft glow of an oil lamp illuminated his focused expression as he poured over a manuscript, the flickering light casting dancing shadows on the walls. The cool evening breeze wafted through the open windows, rustling the delicate silk curtains and bringing with it the scent of the garden flowers.

As he read, the palace footmen announced Svetavastra at his door and he immediately got up and rushed to welcome his mentor inside.

“Gurudeva!” said Aryaman, his eyes instantly lighting up upon seeing Svetavastra in person. “You are back!”

“I am,” said Svetavastra with a smile.

“Please have a seat,” said Aryaman gesturing to a wooden settee near him.

“Much has happened in the past few weeks,” said Aryaman and he briefly explained his journey to the border city and what he found and the journey to the nearby village which prompted him to visit the palace archives.

Svetavastra's eyebrows lifted slightly as he listened to Aryaman recount his deductions and the wealth of information he had gathered in such a short time. He nodded, a hint of newfound appreciation evident in his expression.

“You don’t have to worry about the Yakshamani,” Svetavastra began, her voice calm yet firm. “I have purified it.”

Aryaman’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s why you left so abruptly Gurudeva?”

Svetavastra nodded. “The Yakshamani’s powers were tainted by dark energy. It unleashed a devastating fire upon the border city. It took several days to purify it, draining much of my spiritual energy.”

Aryaman’s expression shifted, a hint of wariness creeping into his voice. “What happened to the yaksha?”

Svetavastra paused, studying the flicker of emotions on Aryaman’s face. “The purification weakened him considerably. I sent him to a distant place to recuperate.”

Aryaman’s jaw tightened. “He should face justice for his crimes.”

Svetavastra met his gaze steadily.

“Indeed,” said Svetavastra. “What can be better justice than eternal atonement?”

Aryaman wanted to ask more but remained silent. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves outside. The distant hum of the palace echoed faintly.

“There’s more,” Svetavastra continued. “The ley lines. They’re being corrupted, and it’s causing the rogue pretas to emerge. We need to purify these intersections, but it will be challenging. However, I believe it’s also a good training ground for you to build your cosmic powers.”

Aryaman’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Training ground?”

“Yes,” Svetavastra said. “Your celestial sword can keep the rogue pretas at bay while we work on cleansing the ley lines. It’s an opportunity for you to learn to channel your latent cosmic powers.”

Aryaman’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, which was by his side.

“When do we start?”