The morning sun bathed Kailash in golden light, and you approached Shiva, your heart light with the thought of seeing your family again. Draped in a simple yet elegant saree, you reached him where he sat in deep meditation, the embodiment of stillness.

"Pranath," you whispered, kneeling before him, your hands folded. "I wish to visit my father's yajna. The halls of my childhood call me, and though I was not invited, I am still his daughter. Let me go, just for a while."

Shiva's eyes opened, the weight of the cosmos in his gaze. His silence was thick, unyielding. His knuckles whitened as he clenched his trident, his body rigid as stone. The air around you stilled, as if time itself awaited his response.

His voice, when it came, was heavy, laced with something you could not name. "No, Sati."

You blinked, startled. "But—"

His grip on your wrist was gentle but unrelenting. "You will not go."

Confusion welled in you. "Why?"

He did not answer, but his eyes, filled with a sorrow too deep to comprehend, held yours. A battle raged within him, unseen but fierce.

Fate whispered for him to let you go. Shiva defied it.