[Flashback Continues…]
The forest stretched endlessly beneath the pale light of dawn, while the cries of birds echoed across the valley. Deer grazed in silence on the fresh blades of grass, lifting their heads only when the distant thunder of a waterfall reached their ears. From the cliffside, streams of silver water cascaded into a lake below, spreading ripples across its crystal surface.
And hidden within this untouched paradise stood a mansion—ancient, enormous, its stone walls cloaked with moss and ivy.
Inside the mansion, Shourya knelt upon the wooden floorboards, a stick of chalk in hand. His strokes were precise, deliberate, forming symbols that intertwined like a celestial map. Circles overlapped with runes, each line etched with sacred intent. The room pulsed faintly, as if the very walls held their breath.
Lioran leaned against a pillar, eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you doing?" he asked, his voice steady though suspicion laced it.
Shourya didn't look up. His hand glided with effortless mastery, closing the last circle before answering. "I'm preparing a ritual. Its purpose—" he tapped the chalk against the final rune "—is to awaken his Prāṇa Core."
Lioran frowned. "Awaken his Core? You make it sound dangerous."
Shourya's lips curved into a grim half-smile. "Because it is dangerous. If Sharin's body has the strength to endure the pressure released during the ritual, his Prāṇa Core will awaken. If not…" He left the rest unsaid.
Before Lioran could respond, footsteps echoed down the corridor. Sharin entered, his chest bare. Strange black markings covered him from neck to waist, their lines sharp and deliberate, spiraling across muscle and vein like chains of fire inked upon his skin. Even his lower torso bore them, glowing faintly under the torchlight.
Trailing behind was Mukhi, the gray-haired servant, carrying a small brass bowl of incense. His voice was hoarse as he announced, "Everything is ready, Master."
"Well done, Mukhi," Shourya said.
Sharin glanced down at the marks etched across his body, unease flickering in his eyes. "Can you at least explain why you drew these… things everywhere? Even on my most private parts?"
Shourya chuckled softly, but his tone was firm. "Their placement matters. The body is a vessel, and these marks help me to transfer my prana inside your body. Now—come. Sit in the center."
The chalked symbols glowed faintly, forming a perfect circle on the floor. Sharin obeyed, lowering himself cross-legged into the heart of the ritual while Lioran remained at a cautious distance, his eyes sharp with doubt.
Shourya stepped behind Sharin, placing one palm firmly on his shoulder. His expression darkened. "Listen carefully. Through these marks, I will channel my Prāṇa into your body. That flow will reach your Prāṇa Core and force it to awaken. But…" His voice dipped lower. "The process will be agonizing. I cannot soften it."
Sharin clenched his fists. "I'll endure it."
Shourya's eyes flickered with approval. His palm glowed as golden energy—like liquid sunlight—gathered at his fingertips. The air trembled.
"Are you ready?" Shourya asked.
"Yes," Sharin said without hesitation.
"Then let us begin."
With a sharp exhale, Shourya released his Prāṇa. Streams of energy seeped into Sharin's skin, following the black markings. The symbols ignited, glowing violet against flesh, and the current of power surged deeper into his body.
"Ghh…" Sharin winced as the first stab of pain lanced through his muscles. His back arched, but he gritted his teeth and bore it.
"Good. That's only the beginning," Shourya muttered. "Now… I'll reach for your Core."
The golden current pressed deeper, winding through blood and nerve until it touched the very heart of Sharin's being—the dormant Prāṇa Core nestled close to his heart.
The moment contact was made, Sharin's scream tore through the mansion.
"AAAAH!" His voice cracked with agony as his body convulsed.
Mukhi, sitting near Lioran, paled. His hands trembled. "Master… is he truly certain about this forbidden technique?"
Lioran snapped his head toward him. "What did you say?"
"N-Nothing!" Mukhi stammered.
Lioran's gaze hardened. He stepped forward, fists clenched. "Don't lie to me. You said forbidden. Explain."
Under that glare, Mukhi's resolve crumbled. He swallowed. "Fine. The truth… Master Shourya is using a forbidden technique—forcing his own Prāṇa into another's Core. It can awaken it, yes… but there's a ninety-five percent chance the Core will collapse under the pressure."
Lioran froze. "Collapse? You mean—explode?"
Mukhi nodded gravely. "The Core is as vital as the heart. If it bursts, death is certain."
"What?!" Lioran's voice thundered.
Suddenly pain got immense, Sharin screamed louder. His body contorted, veins bulging as the Core inside him resisted awakening.
"Stop this!" Lioran roared.
But before he could intervene, Sharin's vision snapped into darkness.
Within his mind, he found himself adrift in a void of white light. Silence reigned, endless and suffocating. Then—whoosh!—a spark ignited before him. Black fire swirled into existence, unnatural and consuming, burning without heat.
"What… is this?" Sharin whispered. Drawn by instinct, he reached toward it.
The instant his fingertips brushed the flame—
BOOOOM!
A shockwave of black energy erupted outward. The mansion shook, walls rattling as the blast sent Lioran and Mukhi tumbling back.
When the dust cleared, Sharin stood at the center, cloaked in a fierce black aura. His chest rose and fell, but he was alive.
"Sharin…" Lioran breathed, eyes wide.
"I… I'm alright…" Sharin muttered before his body went limp and he collapsed.
Lioran rushed to his side, cradling him. Relief crashed over him like a storm.
Mukhi's voice trembled with awe. "He… he survived it."
Shourya, though pale from the exertion, allowed himself a weary smile. "Yes. His Prāṇa Core… has awakened."
"But why risk this at all, Master?" Mukhi asked.
Shourya's gaze turned distant. "Because I saw something in his eyes—the same spark I once saw long ago. A spark that could not be ignored."
Minutes later, Sharin stirred awake. His vision cleared to the sight of Lioran standing above him, face twisted in anger as he argued with Shourya.
"You knew the risk!" Lioran snapped. "Ninety-five percent chance of death—and still you gambled with his life! If only five percent survive this technique, why endanger him?!"
Sharin sat up slowly. "Lioran… stop. I agreed to it."
Lioran turned to him, shocked. "What do you mean?"
"Master Shourya told me everything beforehand," Sharin admitted, voice calm though weak. "I gave him my consent."
"That doesn't excuse—"
"It does," Sharin interrupted. "This was my decision, not yours."
Lioran faltered, lips parting without words.
Shourya stepped closer, placing a hand on Lioran's shoulder. "Had I told you, you would never have allowed it. Because you care too much. But Sharin has his own will, his own right to choose. Would you strip him of that?"
Lioran's jaw tightened. He found no answer.
Shourya's grip firmed. "Even the great Vaelion, in his prime, relied on comrades. You, too, will need someone you can depend upon. This was necessary."
Silence hung between them until Lioran finally exhaled, defeated. "…Fine."
Shourya turned to Sharin. "How do you feel?"
Sharin flexed his hands. A faint shimmer of black energy rippled across his skin. "Strange. Like… power flows inside me, waiting. But I can't release it."
"Same with me," Lioran admitted quietly. "I feel my Prāṇa, but it won't respond."
Shourya chuckled. "That's because neither of you know how to wield your Cores yet. But don't worry—I will train you. Now, come."
They stepped outside.
The mansion doors opened to a world of brilliance. Mountains crowned with snow stood in the distance, their peaks piercing the clouds. Valleys stretched wide, blanketed in forests painted emerald. The air was crisp, cool, and alive with birdsong.
Lioran and Sharin froze in awe.
"Where… are we?" Lioran asked, breathless.
Shourya's eyes glinted. "You are in Kashmir."
Both boys whipped their heads toward him. "WHAT?!"
"That's over fifteen hundred kilometers from home!" Sharin exclaimed.
TO BE CONTINUED…