Chapter 96: Chapter 94: Maha Shivaratri Celebrations... Gone Trance...

(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

Guys I hope you put more comments and power stones... Which will encourage me...

I was thinking about adding local deities too to the story. Any thought about This idea.

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Next Day...

At last—

The sacred day of Maha Shivaratri arrived.

And before even the first rays of dawn fully touched the skies above Trivenivrata, the kingdom had already awakened.

Temple bells echoed endlessly across the city.

Conch shells sounded from shrines and riverbanks alike.

The cool morning air carried incense smoke, devotional chants, and the fragrance of flowers scattered throughout the streets during the night.

From every district, people began moving toward the great temples of Shiva.

Some walked barefoot while carrying offerings above their heads.

Others chanted prayers continuously while moving through the streets with their families.

Sages sat near temple entrances reciting sacred hymns.

Ascetics covered in sacred ash meditated calmly beside burning dhunis.

Even the rivers surrounding the kingdom seemed touched by unusual serenity beneath the morning light.

At the heart of it all stood the grand Shiva temple constructed by Vishwakarma himself.

Today the temple looked almost unreal.

Thousands upon thousands of oil lamps illuminated its pathways, pillars, staircases, and ponds.

Garlands hung from every carved entrance.

Massive silk banners fluttered gently through the wind while priests continuously poured sacred waters over the enormous Shiva Lingam inside the sanctum.

The chants of

"Hara Hara Mahadev!"1

"Om Namah Shivaya!"1

Rose repeatedly like thunder through the temple grounds.

And unlike many festivals where commoners and nobles remained separated—Today, inside Trivenivrata, everyone stood together.

Fishermen. Merchants. Warriors. Sages. Pilgrims. Immigrants. Children.

Nagas disguised among humans.

Even hidden spies quietly observing the kingdom found themselves drawn toward the atmosphere despite their missions.

Meanwhile, throughout the city, various events personally organized under Devara’s orders unfolded continuously to honor the countless visitors who had arrived.

Large food distribution halls provided meals freely to pilgrims and devotees observing fasts.

Musicians performed devotional songs in temple courtyards.

Storytellers narrated legends of Shiva and Parvati before gathered crowds.

Children participated in small artistic competitions involving sacred symbols and mythological scenes.

Martial demonstrations honoring ancient warrior traditions took place within arena grounds.

The harbor districts hosted river lamp ceremonies where thousands of floating diyas drifted gently across the waters beneath prayers and chants.

And everywhere—The people praised the generosity and organization of the kingdom.

Several visiting sages quietly exchanged impressed looks while observing how smoothly the celebrations were managed despite the massive crowds.

The kingdom no longer felt temporary.

It felt rooted. Alive. Blessed.

Within the royal palace, however—An entirely different kind of tension quietly existed.

Because while the kingdom celebrated Maha Shivaratri joyfully...

Rumors about the upcoming Shiva Tandava had only intensified overnight.

By now nearly every visitor inside Trivenivrata knew about it.

And anticipation had grown enormous.

Some devotees believed they would witness extraordinary devotion.

Some skeptics expected an overconfident young ruler embarrassing himself before sages.

Others simply felt curiosity.

But among the countless Shiva devotees gathering near the temple grounds—A strange feeling had begun spreading quietly.

Expectation.

As though something important was approaching with the coming night.

And high above Bhulok1—

Several divine beings had already turned their attention fully toward Trivenivrata.

Waiting.

As the sacred day progressed, Trivenivrata only became more radiant with devotion.

By afternoon, the grand Anna Dana1 organized in the name of Queen Gandhari had begun.

And it was enormous.

Massive rows of seated devotees stretched through specially prepared halls and open courtyards near the temples.

Volunteers moved tirelessly carrying large vessels of rice, curries, sweets, fruits, buttermilk, and prasadam while chants of gratitude and devotion echoed around them.

No distinction existed there.

Pilgrims. Sages. Children. Merchants. Fishermen. Nobles.

All sat together receiving food.

"...."

"...."

"...."

And word spread quickly among visitors that the queen herself had personally overseen the arrangements.

The respect toward Gandhari among the people deepened further because of it.

Nearby, even hardened travelers unused to royal generosity found themselves impressed by the scale of the offering.

Throughout the evening, drama stages and decorated tents across the kingdom reenacted sacred stories connected to Shiva and Parvati.

Children gathered wide-eyed watching actors portray Shiva’s marriage procession.

Crowds laughed during humorous moments involving ganas and sages.

Then fell silent during scenes of penance, devotion, and divine union.

Musicians performed devotional hymns continuously while dancers reenacted cosmic myths beneath torchlight and moonlit skies.

Everywhere the kingdom pulsed with sacred energy.

And then—Night finally descended fully upon Trivenivrata.

The atmosphere changed immediately.

The noise softened but it’s still there.

The devotion deepened.

The grand Shiva temple now stood illuminated beneath countless oil lamps and moonlight, appearing almost celestial against the dark sky.

At the center of the vast temple grounds rested the enormous Shiva Lingam,

Continuously bathed in sacred offerings by priests whose chants had grown increasingly intense as midnight approached.

Thousands of devotees sat patiently surrounding the temple complex and ritual grounds.

Some meditated quietly.

Some chanted "Om Namah Shivaya" beneath their breath endlessly.

Others waited in complete silence.

Because everyone knew what would happen after the midnight rituals.

The Tandava. They were waiting for it.

Meanwhile, the royal family had also arrived.

Rajmata Satyavati.

Queen Mothers Ambika and Ambalika.

Queen Gandhari.

Prince Shakuni.

Mahamantri Vidura.

And many others.

Their arrival drew respectful murmurs through the gathered crowds.

Yet among all of them, Bhishma remained the most vigilant.

"....."

"....."

"....."

Even dressed ceremonially, the old warrior’s eyes continuously scanned the crowds, rooftops, temple entrances, and surrounding structures.

Because he understood clearly—This was the perfect opportunity for hidden enemies.

Massive crowds.

Attention focused toward one place.

The future king exposed publicly.

So while the devotees immersed themselves in worship,

Bhishma quietly oversaw layers of hidden security arranged throughout the temple grounds.

Plainclothes guards.

Archers positioned discreetly.

Trusted soldiers blended among pilgrims.

No threat would approach Devara easily tonight.

As midnight drew closer—The energy around the temple shifted further.

The priest’s chants rose louder.

The sacred fires burned brighter.

The air itself felt heavier somehow.

Even the sages present gradually stopped conversing.

One by one, they turned toward the large ritual platform prepared before the temple grounds.

Waiting. Thousands waited.

The devotees. The sages. The spies. The merchants. The nobles.

The hidden nagas who came to see their saviour god who was about to perform a Tandava.

And high above them all—Unseen divine eyes.

All waiting for the same thing.

For the moment when Devara would step forward beneath the sacred midnight skies...

And begin the Tandava.

The endless waiting beneath the sacred midnight skies finally came to an end.

At the massive entrance of the temple complex, royal soldiers struck their spears against the stone ground loudly.

-Thud. -Thud.

-Thud. -Thud.

Then the announcer’s voice thundered across the entire temple grounds.

"Behold! The King of Trivenivrata! The Slayer of Kamsa! Gangaputra1! Bhumiputra2!"

The great doors opened fully.

And Devara entered the grounds.

The moment the gathered crowd saw him—Flower petals began raining through the air.

"...."

"...."

"...."

From nobles and family happily.

From pilgrims showing their respect. From ordinary devotees.

From sages who were respecting the one who was about to perform tandava.

Thousands offered blessings silently toward the young king who was about to perform the sacred Tandava before Shiva himself.

Yet what stunned many most—Was Devara’s appearance before them.

He wore no royal silks.

No crown. No jewels of kingship or a royal status.

Instead, he was dressed entirely in black.

Simple. Severe. Sacred.

Rudraksha malas rested across his neck, wrists, and arms while his dark clothing moved lightly beneath the night winds.

Tonight he did not look like a king.

He looked like a devotee who had arrived to get the blessing of Lord Shiva.

And somehow—That made the atmosphere even heavier.

Even the sages watching from the front rows slowly narrowed their eyes in deeper interest now.

Because Devara had arrived without arrogance.

Without spectacle. Only devotion.

Step by step, Devara approached the enormous Shiva Lingam standing at the center of the temple grounds.

The chants around him softened gradually.

Priests continued uttering sacred mantras while sacred fires danced in the night air.

Then Devara stopped before the Shiva Lingam.

He folded his hands together. And closed his eyes.

"...."

The world around him slowly seemed to fade.

Inside his mind—He silently prayed.

Not as a king. Not as a warrior. But simply as a son.

Asking his parents to look over him tonight.

To guide him. To help him honor them who was the very Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati properly.

The wind shifted softly around the temple grounds.

Then—The first sound emerged.

-DUM.

A damru. Then another.

-DUM.

And another and another.

Soon several damrus echoed together from different directions around the temple complex.

Then came drums.

Cymbals.

Deep ritual percussion.

The musicians positioned around the outer edges slowly began building the rhythm of the Tandava itself.

The sound spread everywhere.

Into the temple pillars. Into the crowd.

Into the night sky. Into the bones of every devotee present.

And standing amidst it all—Devara slowly entered trance state.

The gathered sages immediately sensed the shift.

His breathing changed. His stillness deepened.

Even Bhishma watching from afar felt his gaze sharpen unconsciously.

Because the atmosphere around Devara no longer felt ordinary.

It felt ancient. Sacred. Dangerously calm.

The head priest approached him one final time while chanting the concluding invocation mantra.

In his hands rested sacred ash.

Slowly, reverently, the priest marked Devara’s body.

Across his arms.

His chest. His shoulders. His forehead.

The sacred Shiva Naamam formed clearly over him in pale ash beneath the moonlight.

The transformation was subtle—Yet profound.

He no longer resembled merely a young king preparing to dance.

He resembled a devotee surrendering himself completely to the moment.

The priest finally stepped back.

Then signaled the others.

One by one, the priests began vacating the central ritual space.

The musicians too retreated toward the edges surrounding the sacred ground.

Leaving only Devara standing before the giant Shiva Lingam beneath the midnight skies.

Still. Silent. Standing like a statue.

Hands folded. Eyes closed.

The drums continued slowly. Steadily.

Like a heartbeat preparing the world itself.

As the whole audience felt it.

And across the gathered crowd—No one spoke anymore.

Not the sages. Not the devotees.

Not even the spies.

Because every instinct told them the same thing now.

Something extraordinary was about to begin.

The sacred grounds of the great temple had fallen into absolute silence.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Only the sound of the damrus remained.

-DUM. -DUM....

-DUM....

The rhythm spread like a heartbeat beneath the midnight skies of Trivenivrata.

At the center, before the towering Shiva Lingam, Devara stood motionless beneath sacred ash and moonlight.

Then—Slowly—Everyone heard it.

"Om..."

The sound emerged from Devara’s lips softly at first.

Deep. Resonant. Not merely spoken.

Felt by the everyone as their body shivered a little.

The vibration spread unnaturally far across the temple grounds.

Again.

"Om..."

And again.

For several long moments, nothing existed except the sound of Om echoing through the night like waves rolling across existence itself.

Even the sages present slowly straightened understanding the king as entered a trance state.

Because the vibration carried strange spiritual weight.

The kind that was not easily faked.

The gathered devotees instinctively lowered their heads.

Several ascetics closed their eyes entirely and began chanting silently alongside him.

Then—The massive temple bell rang.

-GONNNNNG!!!

The sound shook the night.

At that exact moment—Devara opened his eyes as if waiting for this moment.

And the Tandava began.

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(Author note:)

I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.

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Don’t forget to review guys...

Guys I have a new fic which named: Karuppan: King of Openings.

All Hail Lord ShivaI bow to ShivaMortal Realm: EarthFree Food for devoteeSon Of GangaSon Of Bhudevi