Shakti's awakening was a stark contrast to Deva's serene, cosmic connection – a tempestuous explosion of raw, untamed power. His connection to the Tree Yard, a place of explosive, untamed natural energy, meant his daggers vibrated with a wild, unpredictable force. The quiet stillness of meditation, a discipline Nitin had mastered and Deva had embraced, was a profound challenge for Shakti. He found the enforced stillness frustrating, almost suffocating. His energy, accustomed to the boundless freedom of the jungle, longed to erupt outwards, to move, to strike, to create.
Early attempts at control often resulted in uncontrolled energy bursts. During one session, a sudden surge sent a crackling wave of energy across the meditation mat, charring it instantly. Another time, a burst of frustration caused a temporary distortion in the air, making Guru Brahman's form waver as if seen through heat haze. Shakti, ever impulsive, struggled deeply with the patience required, his restless spirit chafing against the rigid structure. "This isn't me," he muttered one day, throwing a dagger in frustration, only for it to embed itself in the wall with an unexpected explosion of light.
Guru Brahman, recognizing that conventional methods would only stifle Shakti's unique nature, adapted the training. He moved them from the quiet meditation hall to a larger, more durable training ground, allowing for more dynamic movements and controlled outbursts. "Your power is like a wild river, Shakti," Guru Brahman explained patiently. "You cannot dam it completely. You must learn to guide it, to carve its course." He introduced rigorous combat simulations, focusing on channeling Shakti's explosive energy through motion, turning his natural impulsiveness into an asset.
During a particularly fast-paced combat drill, facing multiple training automatons, Shakti found himself cornered, frustrated by their relentless, predictable attacks. His daggers hummed with a furious energy, threatening to destabilize. With a guttural cry of frustration, Shakti unleashed a desperate, furious flurry of strikes. Each dagger, instead of merely cutting the automaton's shell, began to emit rapid, unpredictable bursts of shimmering, disorienting light. The air filled with phantom images of himself perfectly mimicking his movements, confusing the automatons, making them strike at empty air. This was the raw power of illusion, a natural extension of his inherent connection to the Tree Yard's reality-bending magic.
Then, as an automaton lunged, Shakti, without conscious thought, vanished. One moment, he was there, the next, a ripple in the air, and then reappeared a few feet away, striking the automaton from an impossible angle. It was a short-distance teleportation, raw and unrefined, but undeniably real. The raw energy, previously chaotic, now pulsed with a focused, albeit still volatile, special magic. Shakti had found his unique power – a blend of speed, illusion, and raw kinetic discharge, all channeled through his twin daggers.
The experience left him breathless, exhilarated, yet profoundly wary. He looked at the daggers, now humming softly in his hands, with a new respect. The raw destructive potential he now wielded was immense, and the thought of losing control, of harming those he cared for, was a sobering one. Guru Brahman nodded, a subtle smile of satisfaction on his face. "You have found your harmony, Shakti. Now, you must learn discipline." The long, arduous process of refining this wild, unpredictable power had truly begun. Shakti, once a lone spirit, now understood that his unique gifts were not just for individual survival, but for the protection of Prithvi, and the harmony of his fellow guardians.
D.Nitin