When Master Aarion's light vanished into the silver tree, I stood alone beneath its glowing roots. The silence was heavy, vast, almost sacred. The twenty masters—whose voices had once filled every corner of the island—were gone. Yet I could still feel them inside me.
Their presence wasn't noise but rhythm. It pulsed inside my chest like a second heart. Each beat whispered a lesson, a memory, and somehow, a promise. The tree's branches swayed gently even without wind, and from its trunk came a low hum.
It wasn't just sound—it was calling me.
I knelt and placed my palms on the shimmering soil. Warmth travelledtravelled up my arms, and for a moment, the world around me blurred. I saw flashes of my masters—each smiling faintly, their eyes bright with something I hadn't seen before: freedom.
Then, the mark of seven stars on my neck began to glow with a light deeper than ever before. It spread down my spine like flowing gold, through my veins like sunlight filling my body. The hum of the island grew louder, vibrating through the mountain, water, and air.
"Mukul Sharma," a voice echoed—not from outside, but from within. It carried the harmony of all twenty masters blended.
"Your training is complete," it said. "Now rise—not as our student, but as our legacy."
I stood slowly, my body trembling as energy surged through me. The silver tree bent slightly toward me, its roots glowing brighter. From its heart emerged a crystal sphere swirling with threads of light—white, blue, gold, and crimson. I reached out instinctively, and as my fingers brushed it, the sphere dissolved into streams of light that sank into me.
The ground quaked beneath my feet, but I didn't fall. I felt every leaf quiver, every droplet of the sea tremble, as if the island itself breathed in unison with me. The energy coursed through my heart and mind until everything—the sky, the waves, the mountains—merged into one endless space of light.
Then, I heard Aarion's voice again.
"The time has come for the Seven to awaken."
And just like that, the light around me exploded outward.
I saw visions—distant lands spread across oceans and continents. Seven beams of starlight descended upon them, touching the foreheads of seven girls. Each one looked different—different nations, different eyes, different stories—but I could sense one thing binding them all: a strange link to me, as if our souls shared a single melody.
"These, Aarion's voice whispered, "are the seven destined companions—the Seven Stars born beneath different skies. They hold fragments of your power. When you meet them, your fate will unfold."
I wanted to reach for them, but the vision faded. I found myself back beneath the silver tree, gasping for breath. My mark cooled, though its light never entirely dimmed again. It stayed faint but alive—a reminder that the awakening had begun.
The island grew restless in the days that followed. The rivers shimmered silver, the winds hummed like music, and animals began appearing near the base of the tree as if drawn by an unseen force.
I wandered through forests and valleys, and everywhere I walked, I could feel the masters' teachings merging within me. When I touched a tree, I sensed Sylas's heartbeat within it. When I crafted something from stone, Thalon's calm strength guided my hands. When I listened to silence, Lyra's warmth whispered through it.
And when I closed my eyes, I heard Aarion's words echoing: "Balance was broken long ago. You are the bridge, Mukul—the harmony reborn."
One evening, I climbed the highest cliff on the island. The horizon stretched endlessly before me. Stars began to rise one by one, their reflections dancing on the ocean. I noticed something extraordinary—the seven stars forming a perfect circle above the sea, shining brighter than the rest.
The sight pulled tears from my eyes. It was the same mark engraved on my neck—the same symbol the Acharya had seen years ago back in Delhi. The prophecy, the mark, the twenty masters—it all connected now.
Suddenly, wind roared around me, forming spirals of silver mist. The voices of the twenty masters merged once again:
"Guardian of the Island, Heir of the Stars—your path begins beyond this shore. Guard the seven, unite their hearts, and awaken the world once more."
As their voices faded, a sound rose from the silver tree below—a rhythmic heartbeat deeper than thunder. Its pulse filled the island, shaking the air. A beam of light burst upward, piercing the stars.
I watched in awe as the roots of the island began to move. The ground below the sea bent upward like arms lifting from the depths. Slowly, I realised—Aarvak was alive. The island itself was awakening.
Its mountains shifted, its rivers glowed. The silver tree's leaves showered light as petals rained across the ocean, forming a bridge of glimmering energy that stretched toward the horizon. It led in one direction—as if pointing the way home.
I stared at that radiance, heart pounding. Behind me, I could feel the weight of everything I had learnt—the twenty masters who had believed in me, the island that had sheltered me, and the destiny that had waited since the day I was born.
"I understand," I whispered to the wind. "It's time."
I turned once more toward the silver tree, bowed deeply, and whispered my goodbye.
"Thank you, Masters, of Aarvak. I will protect what you taught me."
Then, taking one steady breath, I stepped onto the bridge of light. The moment my foot touched it, stars flared brighter overhead.
The silver sea parted beneath, waves shimmering as if bowing. The path glowed ahead, leading into a world unknown but calling with familiar warmth.
As I walked forward, the mark on my neck burned gently, and I heard the soft chorus of twenty voices one last time—embracing, guiding, smiling.
"With each step you take, remember—you are not walking alone."
For the first time since my arrival, I wasn't afraid. The wind carried light around me, whispering tales yet to come.
And that was the moment my real journey began—when the heir of the twenty masters took his first step as the Guardian of the Seven Stars, walking the bridge between fate and freedom, carrying the legacy of an island that taught a boy how to become more than himself.