The wind atop Mount Kalagni was no ordinary breeze — it carried voices of the ancient, dreams of the fallen, and prayers of the living. It curled around Lakshya's body, brushing his cheeks like unseen fingers, as he stood facing east — where the twin moons of Mahakaal Lok hung low, one full, one waning.
The Agni-Sutra on his hand pulsed faintly. He had passed the Flame Cavern. But this was just the beginning.
Behind him, Varunacharya's staff tapped lightly on the rock. "You've unlocked the first seal. Now you must follow the Path of the Four Winds."
Lakshya turned. "What is it?"
"A pilgrimage," the sage said. "A sacred route walked by only the worthiest of those who awaken. Each wind you face will test something different — your strength, your compassion, your mind, and your spirit. Complete it… and the world itself will recognize you as a rising force."
Lakshya nodded. "Where do I begin?"
The old sage lifted his hand and blew a slow breath into the air. Four glowing feathers materialized — each pointing in a different direction.
North — The Wind of Steel.
South — The Wind of Bloom.
East — The Wind of Silence.
West — The Wind of Shadows.
🌬️ Direction Chosen: East — The Wind of Silence
The path eastward was not a road, but a series of floating stones — each suspended above a valley filled with fog and the cries of creatures unseen.
As Lakshya leapt across the stones, he noticed his thoughts becoming louder. His inner voice, once calm, began to scatter.
"What if I fail again?"
"This power… it isn't real."
"No one truly believes in me."
He clenched his fists. No. I've come too far.
Suddenly, everything around him went still.
Lakshya opened his eyes to find himself standing in an infinite grey space, mist swirling around his ankles. A single figure sat on a stone lotus: a boy, no older than thirteen, dressed in simple robes.
The boy looked up — and it was him. Shiwang. His past self.
"I dreamed of this all my life," the boy said, eyes hollow. "But I never got it. You did. Why?"
Lakshya swallowed. "Because… I didn't stop dreaming. Even in death."
The boy nodded slowly. "Then prove it. Silence me."
Lakshya stepped forward. He knelt before his younger self, not to defeat, but to acknowledge.
"You were my beginning. I won't silence you… but I'll carry you. Always."
The boy smiled, and light burst around them.
[Trial Passed: Wind of Silence]
[Spirit Insight +10]
[Ability Gained: Soul Echo – Summon your younger self briefly to shield your mind from illusions and confusion-based attacks]
[Bond Strengthened: Past Self – Shiwang]
🏞️ A New Ally Appears
Returning from the realm of silence, Lakshya felt calmer, more rooted. But no sooner had his feet touched the mossy earth of the eastern plains than a sudden laughter echoed.
A figure dropped from a tree branch overhead — a girl with wild hair, brown skin painted with tribal sigils, and eyes that gleamed silver under the moonlight. She held a curved blade and wore furs laced with golden thread.
"You passed the Wind of Silence," she grinned. "Not bad… for someone who still walks without purpose."
"Who are you?" Lakshya asked, guarded.
"I am Tarka, child of the Eastern Wind and messenger of the Jungle Goddess. I guide those who pass the trial… or slay them if they prove false."
Lakshya tensed. She leaned in, studying his eyes. After a beat, she laughed again. "Relax, Reborn Boy. You passed. That means we're allies… for now."
🏕️ That Night, Beneath Twin Moons
Around a small fire, Lakshya and Tarka sat beneath a glowing tree that gave off a soothing hum.
"You smell like Earth," she said. "The way you talk, your scent, your energy… not from here."
"I wasn't born here," Lakshya admitted. "But I'm here now. This world is my second chance."
Tarka poked the fire with a stick. "Second chances are rare. In this world, even the gods don't get them."
There was silence between them for a while, but not a heavy one. Just… the calm before something larger.
Tarka looked at the flame, then back at him. "You'll need allies, you know. The Wind Trials are just the beginning. The real game? That starts when the Great Factions learn of you."
Lakshya's eyes narrowed. "Factions?"
"Oh yes," she smiled darkly. "The Nine Thrones of Mahakaal Lok. And not all of them will like the rise of someone with a Vardaan."
Lakshya looked up at the stars. Distant constellations blinked, as if watching him. His path was widening. The journey was just beginning.
To be continued...