The towering, carved gates of the Caravan Academy looked less like the entrance to a school and more like a portal into another world. A monumental structure of priceless stone, blending the elegance of ancient Persian architecture with luminous streams of Jargan running through its walls and arches. This was where Zargah's elite came to master the control of Tanesh, as well as the arts of combat and diplomacy.
Arshin—or rather, the soul now carrying his name—stood before it, clutching the bag containing his Relic. His father's message was clear: Control this aberrant power, or be destroyed. An ultimatum.
A silent guide led him inside. The main hall stretched beneath a vast dome painted with an artificial galaxy, its stars glowing faintly above. Students in clan-marked uniforms gathered in clusters, whispering. Curious, mocking, and even fearful eyes followed him. Word of his strange display in the royal hall had spread quickly.
He was brought before the headmaster, Master Jamshid—an elderly man with a white beard and eyes that seemed to have witnessed centuries. His gaze was heavy, unreadable.
"Arshin Kavian," he began, without rising from behind his desk. "Your talent… is unusual. And in Zargah, the unusual is either a blessing—or a plague. Here, we will determine which you are."
Arshin was placed under the guidance of a special instructor: Mirza. A weary, middle-aged man with disheveled hair, eyes rimmed with exhaustion, and a scent of alcohol and ozone clinging to him. He seemed more tormented by what he was about to teach than interested in teaching it.
Mirza led him to a sealed training chamber, walls lined with insulation, devoid of windows.
"Well then, so-called prodigy," Mirza muttered, voice flat with fatigue. "Show me. The 'thing' everyone keeps talking about."
Arshin—Kaveh—extended his hands. He focused on the memory of electric shock, the sound of collision, the despair of his wasted life. This time, the spark came alive—blue, snapping, dancing for several seconds between his fingers with a sharp crackle before fading. The air smelled faintly of burnt ozone.
Mirza didn't even blink. "Weak. Unfocused. Dangerous. Like handing a double-edged sword to a child. You don't even know what you're calling, do you?"
Kaveh stayed silent. He was right. This power was alien to him.
"This is not Tanesh, boy. It is something rawer, more primal, more blind. Like the difference between a river and a flood. Both are water—one nourishes, the other destroys. First lesson: if you cannot master it, you'll be its first casualty."
Mirza pulled a small flask from his pocket, drank, and sighed. "Be here at dawn. And eat well. You're going to need it… because this will hurt."
In the Academy's vast dining hall, Arshin sat alone in the corner. Others kept their distance—until two familiar figures approached: Arina and Paria.
Arina, graceful and solemn, set a plate of fruit in front of him. "Paria insisted we bring you food. She was afraid you might starve." Her voice was gentle.
Paria, bright-eyed, sat eagerly beside him. "And honestly, I was curious! Everyone's talking about your blue light! How did you do it? What did it feel like?"
Arina's eyes flashed in warning. "Paria!"
But Paria ignored her. "Oh, and be careful. I heard Kian told his friends here that he's going to 'teach you some manners.'"
A threat.
Arshin—Kaveh—softly replied, "Thank you. For the food… and the warning." The words still felt foreign in this borrowed mouth.
Arina studied his eyes for a moment, as though searching for something hidden. "That light… it's not the same as what lurks in the forest. But… it is similar. Be careful, brother."
They left him—but this time, he wasn't completely alone. A thread of connection had been woven.
That night, in the solitude of his dorm room, he drew out the Relic once more. The holographic map bloomed into existence. And now, he noticed something new: among the blinking blue points in the forest—one pulsed faintly within the Academy grounds itself.
His heart raced. He wasn't alone. Another Relic—or something like it—was here.
[System Note: Integration: 58%. Foreign energy signature detected within facility. Exercise extreme caution.]
[New Objective: Locate the secondary signal. Survive the training.]