Chapter 3: The Hunter's Eyes
The night was heavy with silence. Dharavanar slept under a pale crescent moon, its streets empty, the hum of life buried deep in the stillness. In Ariv's small room, the faint rustle of the curtains and the distant sound of crickets were the only signs of motion.
Ariv tossed and turned on his bed, drenched in sweat. His dreams were fragments of light—stars bursting, shadows crawling, whispers he couldn't understand.
Then, the air changed.
It wasn't the wind; it was as if the world itself held its breath. The temperature dropped suddenly, and every sound outside fell mute. Ariv's eyes flew open. His heart pounded like a drum as his body froze in instinctive fear.
"What… what is this feeling?"
A weight pressed on his chest, an unseen pressure choking the room. His gaze drifted to the corner—and his blood ran cold.
The shadows stretched unnaturally, peeling themselves off the walls. Something was inside them. Two crescent-shaped eyes glowed in the darkness, like sickles cutting through night. The creature—no, the thing—unfurled itself with a fluid motion, its body twisting like smoke and ink, limbs long and jagged. Its face was formless, save for those twin, merciless eyes.
Ariv's breath hitched. His legs trembled, refusing to move.
"No… no, this isn't real…"
But the thing moved. It slithered forward silently, like hunger given shape. Its clawed hand reached toward him.
Ariv stumbled backward, hitting the wall behind his bed. His heart screamed for escape, but his body wouldn't respond. The pressure intensified, crushing him, suffocating him.
And then—pain seared across his back.
The mark. The one he had seen earlier that morning, now blazing like molten gold. The shape of galaxies burned into his skin as if alive. A violent surge tore through his veins, ripping past fear, past thought—past reason.
The world exploded in light.
A roar without sound filled the air as cosmic energy burst from Ariv's body. Stars seemed to ignite in his room—tiny fragments of galaxies swirling like fireflies, tethered by threads of pure white and violet arcs. The walls cracked, windows shattered, and the air burned with raw force.
The Kalarak froze mid-lunge. For a split second, its crescent eyes widened, as if realizing a fatal mistake. Then its body disintegrated, shredded into nothingness, erased from existence by a power that had no mercy.
The light dimmed. Dust fell in silence. The curtains were torn, the bed scorched, patterns of glowing runes etched themselves across the floor before fading like dying embers.
Ariv collapsed, face-first, his breath ragged, vision dissolving into darkness. His last thought, a broken whisper:
"…What… is happening… to me…?"
And then, silence again.
---
The Door Bursts Open
"Ariv!"
His mother rushed in, her hands trembling as she pushed through the doorway. Her eyes widened in horror at the sight before her—glass shards glinting like tiny stars, black scorch marks crawling along the walls, faint sparks still dancing in the air.
On the floor lay Ariv, unconscious, his body glowing faintly with the same golden hue she had prayed never to see again.
For a moment, she couldn't breathe. Her knees weakened as memories clawed at her—memories of a different night, a different man, and the same cursed light.
Her whisper trembled:
"No… this is happening too soon…"
Her voice cracked as her lips formed a name like a curse:
"Eryon… you finally came for him."
She crawled to Ariv's side, pulling him gently into her lap. His heartbeat was wild, his skin burning hot. The mark on his back still flickered like a living constellation, unstable and dangerous.
"If he releases this much energy again," she whispered, her fingers brushing the glowing skin, "it will kill him."
Her hand moved to her neck. A silver locket hung there—a piece of the past she had sworn to keep hidden. Intricate Sanskrit-like runes shimmered faintly on its surface. For years, it had never left her… until now.
With trembling hands, she unclasped it and placed it around Ariv's neck. The metal pulsed once, then glowed softly, like a gentle moonlight calming the storm. The wild aura faded. His breathing slowed.
Tears blurred her vision as she tightened the clasp and whispered, voice breaking:
"Your father gave me this… to protect you if this day ever came. It will seal your energy… keep you alive… and shield you from them."
Her lips quivered as she added, barely audible:
"You must never know. Not yet."
The glow vanished completely. Ariv lay still, breathing evenly at last.
She sat there for a long moment, clutching his hand, her tears dripping onto the floor. The room smelled of smoke and stardust.
---
Far Beyond the Mortal Veil…
In a place untouched by time, a grand hall shimmered with cosmic light. There stood Eryon, cloaked in silver and shadow, his eyes like molten stars. A veil hung before him, showing everything that had just transpired in Ariv's room.
He watched in silence as the Kalarak vanished into nothingness, erased by a single uncontrolled burst.
Then, slowly, a smile curved his lips.
"Just by releasing your aura…" His voice was calm, yet edged with hunger. "You can do this?"
His gaze darkened, eyes narrowing like blades.
"You are unknowingly far more powerful than he was."
He turned away from the veil, his cloak sweeping like smoke behind him.
"No more waiting," he whispered coldly. "I will do it myself."
And the stars above the Trivara Realm trembled.