Kartikeya and Tarakasura

Kartikeya, the six-faced son of Shiva and Parvati, was now the general of the gods’ army. He led them against Tarakasura.

The battle was not a small one. Tarakasura’s boon had made him effectively unkillable by anyone except Shiva’s son, but his army was vast — demons in their thousands, mounted on great beasts, armoured, organised, accustomed to victory. They had defeated the gods many times before.

Kartikeya rode out on his peacock, the spear in his hand. The gods, with him, formed up. Indra was at the rear. Agni was at the flank. Vayu, the wind-god, swept the field. The host of the gods who had not stood properly against the demons in a long time now stood, because they had a leader who could finish what they began.

The battle lasted twelve days, by some tellings. The Purana describes the fighting in waves. On the first day, Tarakasura’s chief lieutenants came forward; Kartikeya cut through them. On the next, the second rank; he broke them. Day after day the demon army was reduced.

Tarakasura himself remained behind, waiting. He had been told prophecies. He knew Shiva’s son would face him. He had been preparing his whole life for the duel he believed himself ready for.

On the final day, the two of them met on the open field.

The Purana lets the duel be even-handed for a long stretch. Tarakasura was an enormous warrior; he had not won his boon by weakness. He had skill with every weapon. He had a great mace, a divine bow, weapons of fire and storm. He fought Kartikeya at length.

But Kartikeya was the son of Shiva. The spear he carried — the Vel, later worshipped in its own right — could not be broken. The peacock he rode could not be tripped. The six faces meant he could see in every direction at once, and no flanking move surprised him.

After a long combat, Kartikeya took up the Vel and threw it. The spear flew straight at Tarakasura’s chest and pierced him through.

The demon fell. The army that remained behind him broke and scattered. The boon had given Tarakasura the certainty that nothing not a son of Shiva could touch him. The one thing the boon had excepted had now done its work.

The worlds went still. The gods returned to their stations. Indra got his heaven back. The cities the demon had taken were restored to those they had been taken from. Kartikeya was honoured with the title Skanda-leader and Senapati of the gods.

The Purana lets the story have a small quiet ending. After the victory, the gods wanted to make Kartikeya a king of his own heaven. He declined.

“I have a brother,” he said. “I have a mother and a father. I have my own work to do. I will go where the work needs me.”

He took the peacock and went south — eventually, after the mango-fruit incident with Ganesha (which the Purana places later in its sequence), to make the hills of Tamil Nadu his home, where he is still called Murugan. From there he has watched over the southern lands ever since.

Part Four ends here. The household is complete. The next part is the great battles Shiva fought — not for himself, but because the worlds, now and then, need to be cleared.