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

“Let’s go then,” said cosmic Svetavastra.

“Aaaargh!” Svetavastra shouted in pain suddenly.

The world around him blurred, his vision doubling as he stumbled forward, clutching his head. A sharp, searing pain ripped through his mind, a headache like no other. He gritted his teeth, gasping for air, but it was useless. The force of one of the memories he had received upon touching the divine sword—flooded his consciousness, pulling him away from reality.

Darkness.

When he opened his eyes, he wasn’t in the forest anymore.

The golden gardens of Swarga-loka stretched endlessly, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. Celestial flowers bloomed in every corner, their petals shimmering under the light, and the sweet scent of divine nectar filled the air. Young gods and goddesses roamed freely through the sacred grounds, their laughter echoing like soft music across the skies.

Amidst this celestial paradise, Atisha, still a child god, darted playfully through the tall grass. Her dark curls bounced with each step, and her mischievous giggles filled the air as she ran, her tiny feet leaving a trail of cosmic dust behind her. Her spirit was untamed, full of energy and wonder, and her eyes sparkled with the joy of a world where nothing seemed wrong.

But as she rounded a corner, something caught her attention. In the distance, near a tall, glowing tree, she saw two figures—one much larger than the other.

The larger figure was Lord Surya, the radiant god of the sun, towering and proud. His golden robes seemed to shimmer with the brilliance of a thousand suns, and his presence, always regal, exuded power and authority. The smaller figure, standing awkwardly in his shadow, was Lord Bhoja, still a young and chubby god. Bhoja’s round face was flushed, his hands clutching a half-eaten celestial fruit, crumbs trailing down his robes. His plump cheeks, usually filled with food, were now trembling as he looked up at Lord Surya with fear and shame.

Surya’s voice, loud and condescending, reached Atisha’s ears.

“You should control yourself, Bhoja. You’re always stuffing your face, aren’t you? Is that all you gods of food are good for? Gorging yourselves while the rest of us keep the heavens running?”

Bhoja, embarrassed, looked down at the ground, shifting nervously. His hands tightened around the fruit, and his lip quivered.

“I… I wasn’t doing anything wrong…” he mumbled.

Lord Surya sneered, stepping closer, his golden aura casting a long shadow over Bhoja.

“Maybe if you weren’t so busy eating, you’d have something useful to contribute to the realms.”

Atisha, who had been watching from a distance, felt something stir within her. Bhoja wasn’t doing anything wrong. He was kind, quiet, and harmless. He didn’t deserve to be mocked just because of his love for food. The sight of him, shrinking under Surya’s harsh words, sparked something fierce in her heart.

Without thinking, Atisha rushed forward, her tiny frame full of determination.

“Stop it Lord Surya!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the air.

Both Lord Surya and young Bhoja turned toward her, surprised by the sudden outburst. Lord Surya raised an eyebrow, amused.

“What’s this?” he asked, his voice dripping with arrogance. “A little godling standing up for this glutton?”

Atisha stepped in front of Bhoja, her small body trembling with emotion, but she didn’t back down. She looked up at Lord Surya, her eyes burning with a sense of justice far beyond her years.

“Leave him alone!” she demanded, her voice steady. “He’s not hurting anyone!”

Lord Surya chuckled, folding his arms across his chest as he looked down at her.

“You think you can challenge me, little Atisha? I am the Sun God. Bhoja here needs to learn his place.”

Atisha’s heart pounded in her chest, her fists clenched at her sides. She didn’t know what to do—Lord Surya was so much bigger, so much stronger—but she couldn’t let Bhoja be treated this way. Her desire to protect Bhoja, to stand against Surya’s cruelty, grew so powerful that it overwhelmed her senses.

And then, something incredible happened.

The air around Atisha shimmered with light, brighter than anything she had ever seen. A powerful surge of energy rose from deep within her, and before she could fully understand what was happening, a radiant light burst from her small form, illuminating the entire grove.

Lord Surya stepped back, his eyes widening in shock as the ground beneath them trembled.

The light took shape before Atisha, coalescing into something solid—something ancient and magnificent. A divine sword, gleaming with celestial power, appeared before her, floating in the air. Its blade glowed with soft, pulsing light, thrumming with energy that seemed to echo through the Swarga-loka. The sword descended slowly, and Atisha’s tiny hands reached out instinctively to grasp its hilt.

Lord Surya’s mouth fell open in disbelief.

“The divine sword…” he whispered, his arrogance fading into awe.

Atisha, though still confused by the sudden appearance of the sword, felt an overwhelming sense of purpose flood her heart. She looked up at Surya, holding the sword before her.

“You will leave Lord Bhoja alone,” she said firmly, her voice small but filled with the authority of a true protector.

Lord Surya, humbled and shaken by the sight of the divine sword in the hands of such a young god, took a step back. Celestial weapons were bestowed on gods but this tiny little god had created one for herself from her cosmic essence, this was unheard of. The radiant sword and its power were undeniable.

Lord Surya put his hands together and bowed to the sword.

“Peace, little Atisha,” he said. “Let’s forget this.”

“You will not bully him again, Lord Surya,” she said.

“I won’t, little Atisha,” said Lord Surya.

Atisha, still gripping the sword, looked over at Bhoja, who stared at her with wide, grateful eyes. She nodded once and turned to see that the sun god had vanished.

Before Atisha could even process what had happened, she felt a familiar presence behind her. Lord Chitravaan, his golden robes flowing gently in the wind, approached with a mixture of awe and fatherly concern in his eyes. He had felt the surge of energy from across the garden and had hurried to the scene, only to find his young ward wielding the divine sword.

“Atisha…” he said softly, kneeling beside her. “What have you done?”

Atisha’s tiny hands trembled as she looked down at the sword, its light still glowing in her grip. “I… I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, her voice small and unsure. “I just wanted to protect Bhoja…”

Lord Chitravaan’s expression softened as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You did nothing wrong, little one,” he said warmly. “The sword appeared because your heart called for it. You saw something that wasn’t right, and you acted to protect the weak.”

Atisha’s bottom lip trembled, tears welling in her eyes.

“But… it’s so strong. I didn’t mean to scare Lord Surya.”

“She did scare him off, Lord Chiravaan,” said Bhoja. “You are my hero, Atisha!”

Lord Chitravaan chuckled, wiping away the tear that slipped down her cheek.

“Strength is not something to fear, Atisha. This sword is powerful, yes, but its true power comes from the heart of the one who wields it. And your heart is pure.”

He knelt down further, his blue eyes filled with pride and love.

“This sword is not an instrument of aggression. It is a tool of peace, meant to protect those who cannot protect themselves. You used it for the right reason today.”

Atisha sniffled, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“But how do I know when to use it? What if I make a mistake?”

Lord Chitravaan’s hand tightened gently on her shoulder, grounding her as he always did.

“You will know, little one. Trust in yourself, and remember—this sword is not a weapon for domination. It is meant to preserve balance, to protect.”

He smiled, his voice soft with love.

“You were born to protect the peace of Swarga-loka, and today you showed what is in your heart. Never forget that your greatest strength lies not in the sword, but in your compassion.”

Atisha nodded slowly, her hands still gripping the sword.

“I’ll protect everyone,” she whispered, her voice quiet but full of resolve.

Lord Chitravaan smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I know you will. You have the heart of a true protector, the future god of war.”