Shirisha fell backwards in shock. She saw Sang's face, his eyes wide in shaken disbelief. His hands trembled, and the girl slipped away with ease.

She watched paralyzed from the ground as the girl attempted to climb the rocks once again. Even when she slipped and seemed to scrape herself, something that would usually elicit a grimace, she showed nothing. She kept climbing with her slight body, driven by a will. The same will that could carry a tremendous beast across mountains for centuries.

It cannot be... Shirisha thought. She envisioned the gigantic body being torn helplessly down the mountain, slammed with merciless impact into the valley. Then was a creature that, in the thousands of years of its existence, only showed distress when being torn from its path, just as the girl had when Sang lifted her from the stones.

"Abhinatha!"

Shirisha sprang to her feet, jumping onto the rocks and grabbing Abhinatha's hand. The girl said nothing, straining against Shirisha's grip while still trying to climb.

"Please." she begged again. She held Abhinatha's small hand in both of her own, which had become worn and scarred. Still facing forward and attempting to move away, Abhinatha's words came out in a faint whisper.

"I... must... go."

Shirisha bowed her head and fell to her knees, still holding her pleading grip. She thought of everyone back home. Old Bhavaroopa, whose years were well lived but now numbered, like all of the elders. Milan's mother, who in her dying breaths may only know winters' harsh grasp. Bibek, brimming with potential, heading into an era of anguish.

"Please." she said through tears. "Our people... are dying."

Abhinatha became still. She turned around slowly, her magnificent golden eyes holding a complex emotion within them. Shirisha thought them to be beset, absorbing in a great wave what had previously been withheld.

In the gaze of their ancient deity, Shirisha noticed Sang. He was kneeling and bowing fully, his forehead and palms on the ground. "I am sorry." he said

"Punish me how you must... end my life if you must."

Shirisha was taken aback, but Abhinatha spoke first. Her words floated from her lips in an ethereal tone that encircled them. She had the voice of a child, but a voice that bore maturity and knowledge transcending lifetimes.

"Why do you say this?"

Sang lifted his head, face contorted and distraught. "It was me. I am the one who almost took your life, and because of that I have brought ruin my own people and the world with them. Do you not hate me for that?"

Abhinatha responded calmly. "Rage and revenge have no part in growth. Growth is what I bestow. Growth I have bestowed for ten thousand years, and shall for thousands more."

Sang was struck silent, conflicted, but ultimately grateful. Shirisha felt great wonder at the idea that she was actually speaking to Abhinatha, something one only dreamt of, but in this moment she was also filled with difficult questions.

"Lord Abhinatha, I-" she hesitated, met with a new thought. "Is Abhinatha your true name?"

The being responded with the same serenity. "I have many thousands of names, from many places and people throughout the world. If Abhinatha is what I am to your people, then it is my name. And you need not refer to me as lord, I only fulfill what I am meant to do."

"Thousands..." Shirisha said, astonished, "Lord- I mean, Abhinatha, how many people really are there? What places do they live in? How far does the world go?"

"There are millions," said Abhinatha, "and some live in groups of thousands, sheltered by structures wrought from the earth, across water that stretches over the horizon, and beside mountains that spew fire. I have seen them grow and change in the thousands of times I have circled this world, but some still do not know of me."

Shirisha was at a loss for words when Sang interjected with confusion. "Circled?"

Abhinatha looked pleased. "Yes. This world that we stand on is a round sphere, like the perfect drop of morning dew suspended in the air. It has always been this way, and the moon floats around it like smaller droplet that has split off, always following the world in its path."

They were both silent, taking in the wonder of this new knowledge as it changed their perception of the very dirt they stood on. Shirisha envisioned taking it back to the village, sharing it in front of a captivated crowd while a fire blazed behind her.

The village. The fire shrank quickly to embers as reality returned, and around it bodies began to shiver and collapse.

All of a sudden, a new crushing weight fell on Shirisha's heart in the realization that it would not be just their village but thousands continue to suffer. People, old and frail, young and hopeful, all of them. They had all been locked In a battle of attrition they could never win.

Shirisha spoke in a solemn tone. "Abhinatha, how did you obtain your great power? How did you survive the mountain? What must we do to restore it?"

Abhinatha closed her eyes, breathing softly. She allowed a silence to hang in the air before her smooth but serious voice permeated through it.

"One day more than ten thousand years ago, I simply awakened, my body in a form not unlike what you see now. My first memory, lying down and facing the sky, was cold. I do not know what force put me there or how any of it came to be, and I likely never will.

"What I remember is that the world was deeply frozen, and it had been frozen for centuries before I awakened. I wandered, knowing nothing. I observed what life there was, scarce plants that were small and resilient, and animals that no longer walk this earth. In time I found people, but they were far different than people are now. They ate only meat and the odd nuts they managed to find, always following their prey and never living in one place. Though they looked like me I was hesitant, and I ensured they did not see me as I continued wandering the world for years more. I learned that I was different from any of the life I saw. I did not need to sleep or eat, and though my physical strength was limited, I never tired.

"Over the years, I observed something else, something that was with me since my beginning which I simply did not notice at first. Wherever I went, no matter where, there was a warmth that surrounded me. It grew in tiny pieces over many years, beginning to melt through snow and encourage the bloom of life where I stepped, feeding life that was eventually strong enough to sustain itself after I left it behind. The reach of the warmth extended farther, but I was always the epicenter. I traveled past animals and people, and when I saw them flourishing in my wake I knew my purpose.

"life could survive in the world that once was, the world I awoke in, but it could never thrive. Life was shackled to a suffering in the harsh, stagnant ice, a bond which it could never escape otherwise. I existed only to alleviate it, for as long as I could and in as many places as I could, to fully bloom the crumpled flowers of life and joy.

"Decades passed, and I gained the power to alter my form. I became over time stronger and quicker beasts, charting routes throughout the shifting world, determining which one would be the best for me to take on my endless journey. Several centuries after I awakened, I took on the form your people and many others know me as. The perfect form in which I could carry out my duty uninhibited. No hunter could mistake me for prey, and no beast could overpower me.

"I stayed in this form, and found a path. It was this path I stayed in for ages, and in time the movement and living became one and the same. After thousands of cycles my conscious mind faded and became dormant, taking in the development of the world and of people almost in a dream.

"Then, I was snapped into chaos. My body was in great pain, and I was falling. I could feel my body dying, my warmth fading, and in a desperation I drew my spirit far back into a small piece of myself so I did not perish with the serpent. With what I had left I emerged bloody from the dying heart of the serpent as you see me now, but a small sliver of what the eternal cycle needs me to be to maintain the balance of spring and winter.

"The same movement engraved deep within my soul, I climbed up the throat and out of the serpent's mouth. Despite feeling such trauma I had little control over it after such an eternity, and it carried me to where we stand now without me ever truly realizing what had happened to my power. You have helped awaken me, to rise back to the surface to control my own body once again."

Even while hearing such incredible words, Shirisha's heart sank ever downward under the growing mountain of weight. She could hardly grasp the scope of time of which the being spoke, how cycles of creatures could die out completely in the time it took for her to become the serpent of the spring.

Sang's eyes had glazed over, in another realm of thought. He saw firsthand pain that he had caused in his mistakes, but now he had learned that there were millions more in pain alongside them and that he had undone the labor of centuries. Shirisha knew it tore him apart from within.

"Do you know if there is any way to return your power faster?" Shirisha asked anxiously.

"No. I have tried long ago, but I can only use it as its carrier. It grows independent of me, at a pace I cannot control."

The silence of the winter night seeped back into the air. It was then broken with a sudden clarity by Sang, carrying a resilient certainty in his voice.

"Abhinatha, if it is your wish, I will lend you my strength for the rest of my life. I will carry you to the end of the world and back, as many times as you wish, until your power grows and surpasses me. It was my mistake that caused this tragedy, and so now it is my duty and fate to give all the strength I have, so long as I have strength to give." He knelt on one knee with his head bowed, signaling submission and respect.

Shirisha rushed to his side, grabbing his shoulder and speaking desperately. "Sang, you cannot do this. The people need you now more than ever, just think of-"

"And this is how I shall serve them." Sang interrupted, unswayed.

Shirisha attempted further to change his mind, but even as she spoke she knew deep down that it was futile. "Our people could become nomadic once more, like our ancestors that founded the village long ago. We could all escort Abhinatha and protect her, flourishing together as her power returned. No one would be separated, and you would not have to leave us again."

Sang did not meet her eyes. "In your time away from the village have you learned nothing of the difficulty of travel, of constant movement at the mercy of nature? No matter what the conditions are, it is difficult, especially so for children and elders. It saps the energy relentlessly, and Abhinatha does not sleep. We could not farm; we would have no choice but to depend only on what the natural land provided, and we have no knowledge of what those lands hold. Most of all, we would be far too slow. As Abhinatha regains even some of her former power, a group of our size would prove just to be a restraint. Even on our current journey, this is the reason there are only the two of us."

Shirisha grimaced silently, thinking back to the hungering young boy and the shivering people that accompanied her on the path to Abhinatha's former body. She knew she grasped at nothing. Sang continued.

"I must do this. I know how to survive in the wild's domain, and how to provide for myself whatever is needed. I have been whipped across the back by all the elements of nature. I can take it all. Who the village truly needs to support them, is you."

He looked up into Abhinatha's face and spoke to the being.

"I have but one request. Will you return with us to our home for some time before we leave? I want our people to know that we were successful, and so you can share with them the warmth you have and leave them with hope... for I may never see them again."

Abhinatha looked deep in thought, with an expression more conflicted and hesitant than before. Sang and Shirisha both watched and listened keenly until she finally spoke.

"I will come."