Krishnapriya felt a surge of pure joy as he rode atop Aditya. There was a profound connection between them; words were unnecessary. With a simple mental nudge, he directed Aditya toward the southern horizon. In an exhilarating blur, the southern landmass vanished beneath them.
As the scent of salt filled the air, Aditya slowed his frantic pace. They were soaring among the clouds, but sensing Krishnapriya’s longing for the waves, Aditya began a graceful descent. When they skimmed the surface, his wings sliced through the water, sending a cool spray into the air. Krishnapriya wiped the sea salt from his face, feeling a thrill unlike anything he had experienced in years. It wasn't just the excitement of returning home after a long exile—it was the raw, sensory pulse of being alive.
On the shore, Megha finished her ritual bath, offering water to the rising sun with a heart full of devotion. Nearby, her companion Sugriva grazed peacefully on the lush grass. However, as she approached him, the atmosphere shifted. Sugriva looked toward the vast ocean and began to weep, his eyes filled with a strange, haunting sorrow.
A cold knot of apprehension tightened in Megha’s chest. Seeking clarity, she walked to the water’s edge and sat in Padmasana, trying to find stillness. Suddenly, the sky deepened into a dark purple-black. A piercing scream echoed across the waves. Megha bolted toward the sound, splashing into the surf until the water reached her knees.
In the chaos, a tiny brown fish began to circle her ankles. Acting on instinct, Megha scooped the creature into a large oyster shell. For a fleeting second, the fish shimmered, and its scales turned a brilliant, celestial gold. But before she could marvel at it, the fish leaped back into the depths and vanished.
“Wait!” she cried, searching the foaming water, but it was gone. Turning back to the shore, she felt the air grow heavy with a terrifying power. Standing there was a sage with matted hair and eyes that burned like live coals. It was Sage Durvasa.
“Vile girl!” his voice thundered, shaking the very earth. “Do you have any idea what you have done? For years, I have performed penance to witness the secret of Narayan’s incarnation. That fish was my reward, and you—in your ignorance—have cast it back into the jaws of time!”
The air crackled with his fury. “I, Durvasa, son of Anusuya, curse you! Just as my fruit has perished in the sea because of you, so shall you perish within these waters!”
The curse hit Megha like a physical blow. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a heartbeat, the world went silent. But she refused to let despair paralyze her. With trembling hands, she threw herself at the Sage's feet, the cold sand pressing against her skin.
“Rishivara, please,” she sobbed, her voice small against the roaring wind. “I am but the princess of Varuna-prastha, a child before your wisdom. I saw a creature in distress and acted from a place of compassion. I did not know I was treading upon the fruits of your divine labor.”
She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “You are a part of Mahadev himself. Your anger is famous across the three worlds, but so is your capacity for grace. I am like your daughter—please, do not let one mistake define my soul.”
