Lore Of Jivavarta: Mihika Nagari

Origins Of Mihika Nagari

Once when the world was young, and the oceans held secrets, there lived a goddess of the deep waters named Varavani. She was grand and terrifying, and her domain was the silence beneath the waves. She ruled from a majestic temple city, carved from stone and lit only by the cold, strange glow of the deep.

But other sea gods became jealous of Varavani. She was cast out, and banished from the sea that was her home.

When Varavani was banished, her heart turned to stone. Her entire underwater city then erupted from the sea in a single, shuddering jolt to become Mihika Nagari, the City of Varavani's Grief.

The goddess Varavani now sleeps beneath the city's stones. The cold, thick mist surrounding the city is her breath, acting as a protective shield that makes outsiders go insane with confusion and fear.

Ratrik, the Children of the Dark

The people who stay in this city are the Ratrik. When their ancestors first settled on Varavani's stone skin, they adapted to her darkness. The sun burns their eyes, so they sleep at dawn and only wake up after nightfall.

They live without restraint and never marry, for they believe that the goddess Varavani could wake up at any moment and sink the city, and them, back into the depths of the sea. To them, love is a weakness and commitment a trap. So they throw themselves into pleasure -- drumming, trading, dancing, and singing -- in order to keep the goddess asleep and the sea at bay.

 

Commerce and Currency

Mihika Nagari isn’t ruled by royalty, but by the Mihika Lords, guardians of a sacred treasure. In dark caves, where the goddess’s lifeblood still flows, grows the Mihika Weed -- a glowing violet plant that serves as the city’s only real currency.

Outsiders arrive with their karshika coins, and the cunning Mihika Lords drain their wealth while they’re chasing pleasure in the Temples of Varavani and the sweet smoke of Mihika Weed.

The most valued people in the city are the Alohita Dancers, nubile girls rewarded richly for their beauty and talent. The least valued are baby boys, since they don’t carry the sacred Alohita bloodline. In secret, during the darkest hours, they are traded to the outsiders for gold -- a quiet, sorrowful trade that fills the city's treasury.

Song of Mihika Nagari

Every night, ships cut through the fog.

Their sailors sip their dark, dangerous grog.

No one sees them arrive. No one sees them leave.

Mihika Nagari traps them in her weave.

Happiness is a transaction, and gold buys time.

Weed is temptation, every voice is chime.

The goddess, once mighty, now slumbers in shame,

Her temples turned brothels, her blessings now lame.

By dawn, everyone's gone, no trace, no name,

The city denies that they ever came.

But one day the goddess will rise and glare,

And the city will sink, as if never there.

Lore Of Jivavarta: Mihika Nagari by Shon Mehta