---
Chapter 7: Sparks and Ghosts
Part I – The Trial
Eshan couldn't move.
Every inch of his body ached, every breath burned. He lay sprawled on the cold temple floor, staring up at the towering Guru who had just beaten him to the ground like it was nothing.
And the worst part?
He hadn't even seen the old man move.
He's too fast…
The Guru crossed his arms, looking down with something between disappointment and curiosity.
"So?" the old man said calmly. "Is that all?"
Eshan forced himself to sit up, teeth gritted. "You… you're insane. I came here for answers, not— not to get beaten half to death!"
The Guru raised a brow. "If a little pain breaks you, boy, then perhaps you don't deserve answers."
Eshan's anger flared. "What the hell do you know about me?!"
"Enough," the Guru said simply. "I know you carry more than you understand. And right now, you're too weak to protect it."
Eshan blinked. "Protect… what?!"
The Guru crouched, his gaze sharp enough to pierce stone. "Your life. Your blessing. Your future. All of it. You are being hunted, boy — by forces you cannot comprehend. And you think words will save you?"
"I—"
"Stand," the Guru barked.
His voice cracked like thunder.
Eshan's body screamed in protest, but he pushed himself to his feet.
"Good," the Guru said. "Now strike me."
Eshan blinked. "…What?"
"Hit me," the Guru said.
"That's— you're kidding, right?"
"I do not joke."
Eshan clenched his fists. "You'll just—"
WHAM!
Another strike.
Pain exploded across his jaw before he could finish. He stumbled but didn't fall.
"Stop thinking," the Guru said. "Stop hesitating. That hesitation will kill you before your enemies do."
Eshan's heart pounded. He wanted to run. To scream. To curl up and vanish.
But then…
He remembered.
The fire.
His mother's blood.
His father's last words: "Don't resist."
Something in him snapped.
He lunged.
The Guru didn't move. He simply stood there as Eshan swung wildly, his punches clumsy but desperate.
And then—
BZZZT.
It was faint. But real.
A spark ran through Eshan's arm.
The Guru's eyes glimmered.
"There it is," he murmured.
"What… what is—"
"Shakti," the Guru said. "Your blessing waking up."
Eshan froze.
"My… blessing?"
The Guru straightened. "It's only a flicker. But it's yours. And one day, it will burn brighter than you can imagine."
Eshan panted, his legs trembling. "Then… teach me. Please."
The Guru smiled faintly. "I will. But understand this, boy — I am not here to comfort you. I am here to forge you."
His hand pressed against Eshan's chest.
And in that moment, Eshan felt it fully — a deep, thrumming energy, coiled like a beast within him.
"This," the Guru said, "is the weight you carry."
---
Part II – The Ghosts of War
Far from the temple, the forest was silent.
Too silent.
Omkar walked alone through the charred remains of what once was a home — Rajesh and Ananya's home.
Now, only ashes and rubble remained.
He crouched, picking up a fragment of burnt wood. His fingers brushed over a half-melted anklet. Ananya's.
Omkar exhaled slowly.
"You were supposed to last longer than this," he muttered.
He sat down in the wreckage, letting the silence swallow him.
I should've been here.
He could still hear Rajesh's laugh in his head — bold, unafraid, even in the darkest moments.
"If you ever slack off, Omkar, my son will beat you someday."
And Ananya's soft voice:
"Promise me you'll look after him, Omkar. No matter what."
He shut his eyes.
"I failed you both," he whispered.
The wind carried the faint scent of sandalwood — a cruel reminder of what this place used to be.
Omkar removed his cloak and for the first time in years, bared the mark on his left arm — the sacred 'Om'.
He stared at it for a long time.
In the Ancient War, this mark had been a symbol of hope. Entire legions had rallied behind it. Omkar, the man who fought beside kings and saints, the man who defied gods themselves.
And yet…
Now, he was just one man sitting in ruins.
"Omkar."
A voice.
He didn't turn. "Arkan," he said flatly. "Thought you'd come."
The sound of footsteps on scorched earth.
"I wanted to see for myself," Arkan said calmly. "The great Omkar, reduced to cleaning up after dead friends."
Omkar smirked without looking back. "And yet, here you are. Alive. Somehow."
Arkan's expression didn't change. "You've grown soft."
Omkar stood, stretching lazily. "Funny. Krayn said the same thing before I cut his head off."
For the first time, Arkan's calm cracked.
"You—"
Omkar finally turned, his smile sharp. "Relax. I didn't come here to fight. Not yet."
Arkan gripped his sword. "You think you can protect the boy? You can't even protect yourself."
Omkar's smile widened. "Try me."
For a tense moment, they stood there — legends of different eras, staring each other down.
Then Arkan stepped back.
"You won't be laughing when the Lord comes for him," he said.
Omkar's grin faltered slightly.
The Lord.
He knew what that meant.
When Arkan left, Omkar stood there in the ruins, staring at the rising moon.
"Rajesh," he said softly. "Ananya. I'll keep my promise. No matter what."