Chapter 15: The Temple of Awakening
I hadn't had any more dreams since the night I saw my own face staring back at me. Honestly, I was relieved. Those dreams were strange, no matter how much they felt connected to something larger, something beyond my understanding. But now, finding myself in another dream, I could only pray that nothing weird would happen again.
I was standing in a temple. The ceiling was impossibly high, vanishing into the shadows above, and countless bells hung from it, suspended on delicate chains. The hall was vast, stretching out into the darkness, its sheer size overwhelming. It was as if the walls themselves held ancient secrets, their stone etched with faded symbols and markings that hinted at a forgotten past. The air was thick with the scent of incense, a sweet and earthy aroma that clung to my senses, grounding me in this surreal place.
I stood in the middle of the hall, turning slowly, trying to find some clue as to why I was here. The silence was heavy, almost oppressive, as if the temple itself was holding its breath, waiting for something.
Suddenly, a breeze stirred the stillness, setting the bells to ringing softly. The gentle chimes echoed through the hall, but the sound quickly grew louder. More bells began to ring, their tones overlapping, creating a cacophony that filled the space. The noise became unbearable, a piercing symphony that assaulted my ears. My head started to pound, and I clutched it in pain as black veins began to snake their way across my skin, pulsing with dark energy.
The circles on my collarbone ignited with a burning intensity, the one on my chest searing with a pain that was worse than anything I could imagine. It felt as if my very soul was being torn apart. Lines began to form within the circle on my chest, a pattern emerging—a symbol of something ancient and powerful. My vision blurred as the pain overwhelmed me, and just before I passed out, I caught a glimpse of a figure.
He was tall, majestic, and unmistakably powerful. His silhouette was shrouded in darkness, but one detail stood out—a tail, curling behind him like that of a mythical beast. Though I couldn't make out his face, his voice reached me, deep and resonant, filled with authority.
"Come visit me."
With a start, I woke up in my bed, my heart pounding. As I blinked away the remnants of the dream, I became aware of my surroundings. My room was in disarray, but not from the dream's chaotic energy. Clothes were strewn across the floor, but among them were delicate garments that didn't belong to me. The bed beside me was empty, but the imprint of another body lingered on the sheets, the scent of perfume faintly mingling with the cool morning air.
My gaze drifted to the bedside table where a half-empty glass of water sat next to a lipstick-stained napkin. The memory of the night before slowly returned, piecing itself together in my mind. The girl from the garden—her beauty, her enigmatic presence—hadn't been just a figment of my imagination. We had spent the night together, our conversation in the garden having led us to my room. The memory of her touch, her warmth, and the connection we shared filled me with a strange mix of emotions.
But now, she was gone. I could tell she had left quietly sometime before I woke up. The room was filled with a strange stillness, as if the energy she had brought with her had evaporated, leaving only the faint traces of her presence. The sheets were tangled, a stark reminder of the intimacy we had shared, but the coldness of the empty space beside me was a sharp contrast to the warmth of her memory.
Quickly, I tidied up the room, my movements mechanical as I tried to shake off the lingering sensations from the night. Indian households were conservative, and I couldn't even imagine looking my mother in the eye if she saw this mess. The sight filled me with a mix of embarrassment and relief—evidence of a night that felt like a fleeting dream.
After cleaning up, I headed to the shower. As the warm water cascaded over me, I noticed something strange—the black veins that had covered my body had vanished, leaving no trace of their existence. It was as if they had never been there.
I emerged from the shower feeling more like myself but with an undercurrent of unease. I got dressed and went downstairs, joining my family for breakfast. Everyone was home except for Arjun and Vikram, who had already left for school. The day felt unusual to me. Normally, I would have work to do, but today I had nothing on my agenda. There was only a vague feeling, an inclination that I needed to be somewhere, though I had no idea where.
I sat down at the breakfast table, trying to engage in the conversation around me, but my mind kept drifting back to the dream. What did it mean? And who was that figure? I joined in the light chatter, but a sense of foreboding lingered, as if fate was leading me toward something I couldn't yet comprehend.
Third Person Perspective
vijay had no idea how significant his dreams truly were. To understand, we need to go back—way back—to when the connections to the Indian constellations were sealed or severely restricted. There was outrage within the community, but the immediate need for protection overshadowed the dissent.
The seal that was used was one that composed of 19 ancient seals, each possessing immense power . But what the foreign saints and hunters didn't foresee was that the keys, which they assumed would remain under their control, would disperse across the world, assimilating into mundane objects and locations.
vijay's grandfather died because the monster item he was handling was, in fact, one of these keys. Mishandling the key resulted in an explosion, and the key's power, searching for a new vessel, assimilated into vijay's family bloodline, eventually reaching vijay while he was still in his mother's womb. The assimilation of the key granted vijay a constitution geared toward breaking seals. The constellation Hanuman recognized this truth and instinctively suppressed vijay's constitution throughout his life. But as vijay grew older, the energy of the constitution became less suppressed. The patterns in the circle on his chest signified that the suppression was breaking and that his constitution was itching to break the first seal.
The breaking of the first seal would grant a power boost to all Indian hunters who were avatars of Indian constellations, drawing global attention to India. The Monkey Saint was making preparations to claim credit for the breaking of the seal, as vijay's constitution could help him locate the remaining keys as he grew stronger. The saint wanted to avoid any attention that might fall on vijay.
Currently, all the saints were fortifying their defenses, ensuring that when the first seal was released, India would be ready for the global attention it would bring. They were excited, knowing that they were on the verge of regaining a portion of their lost power.
The countdown had begun, and it was now up to vijayto decide what he would do when he finally understood the truth of it all.