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Chapter 2: Ashes and a Stranger
Eshan woke to silence.
No fire. No smoke.
Just… stillness.
His head throbbed as he sat up, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He wasn't home. The walls were stone, etched with strange, glowing Sanskrit inscriptions that pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. A faint incense-like scent lingered in the air.
"Where… am I?" he muttered.
The memories hit like a hammer — the fire, the monstrous men, his parents fighting like warriors from another life. His father's bloodied face. His mother's desperate defiance.
"Mom… Dad…" he whispered, clutching his knees.
He barely noticed the soft footsteps until a voice cut through the silence.
"You're alive. Good. That makes things easier."
Eshan spun toward the sound — and froze.
A man stood at the doorway.
No — not just a man.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Long dark hair framing a face that could have been carved by a divine sculptor. Striking, otherworldly handsome — so much so that for a fleeting second, Eshan forgot how to breathe.
His clothes were simple, travel-worn, but the faintly glowing Om-mark etched onto his left arm caught Eshan's attention immediately.
For a strange moment, Eshan felt something impossible: as though this man carried the weight of centuries, like a relic from a time when gods still walked the earth.
The man noticed his stare and chuckled softly. "What? Never seen a good-looking man before?"
Eshan blinked rapidly, heat rising to his face. "W-what? No! I mean… who… who are you?"
The man tilted his head, almost teasingly. "Who do you think I am?"
Eshan scowled. "I don't know. That's why I'm asking."
"Smart boy," the man said, stepping inside. He crouched so that his gaze met Eshan's. His smile was warm, but his eyes… his eyes held something ancient.
"Your parents," the man said quietly. "They did well. They kept you safe. Just like they promised me."
Eshan's heart skipped. "Promised… you? You knew them?!"
The man didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked around the room, as if checking for something unseen. "We'll talk later. Right now, I need to make sure you're secure."
"Secure? From what—"
A sudden, suffocating chill crawled up Eshan's spine.
That presence.
The grinning man.
Krayn stepped through the doorway, flames dancing at his fingertips. His grin stretched unnaturally wide.
"Found you," Krayn hissed. "And you're not running this time, boy."
Eshan's breath hitched.
Krayn raised his hand, summoning a blade of searing fire. "The Lord will forgive me for bringing you in dead—"
Schlk!
His head fell to the floor before Eshan even processed what happened.
The man — the stranger — now stood where he'd been, holding a simple, unadorned blade slick with blood.
He hadn't even looked at Krayn.
"Persistent little pests," the man muttered, wiping the blade on Krayn's cloak.
Eshan stared, frozen in shock. "You… you killed him… like it was nothing."
The man finally turned to him again, smiling as if nothing happened. "You'll get used to that."
"Who ARE you?" Eshan demanded, his voice breaking.
The man sheathed his blade, then extended a hand. "Me? I'm no one important."
"...No one important doesn't kill monsters like that in one move."
The man smirked. "You're sharper than you look."
Eshan didn't take his hand. He just glared, his fear and confusion boiling over. "What happened to my parents?!"
The man's smirk softened, his eyes turning sad. "...They fought well. Bravely. But they knew this would happen one day. That's why they left you in my care."
Eshan's chest tightened. "In your care? You mean—"
"Yes," the man said gently. "They entrusted you to me."
Eshan's hands trembled. "Then who are you really?"
The man straightened, looking down at him with an expression Eshan couldn't read.
"My name," he said at last, "is Omkar."
And though Eshan didn't understand why, the name sent chills down his spine.