Pain. A dull throb deep in my stomach. Every breath burned like fire, every blink scraped like sandpaper against my eyes.
But I was alive.
I opened my eyes to the sight of a low wooden ceiling. Faint sunlight filtered through the cracks in the thatch roof, dancing on the mud walls. The scent of neem and medicinal herbs hung heavy in the air.
Someone was sitting beside me—tall, cloaked in white, arms folded, eyes sharp.
"Guru...deva?" I croaked.
The man turned. A familiar face.
Guru Vasistha.
The one who had saved Varun and Lakshmika. My father's closest friend. And now, apparently, the one who had also saved me.
"You've finally decided to stop sleeping," he said with a smirk. "I was starting to think I'd have to drag your soul back from Yama myself."
I tried to sit up but winced. My abdomen screamed in protest.
"You shouldn't move," Guru said, now serious. "You were close to death, Aryaman. That Asura didn't miss his mark."
I swallowed hard. "Then… how am I still here?"
He didn't speak immediately. Instead, he uncorked a clay vial and poured a few drops of golden liquid into my mouth. It was bitter, and I nearly gagged.
"You survived because of him—the very demon you killed," Guru Vasistha said. "Asura life energy is volatile, but I extracted what I could from him... and used it to keep your chakras from shutting down completely."
"Chakras?" I repeated, unfamiliar with the word.
Guru's eyes gleamed with a quiet wisdom. "Think of them as spiritual cores—gateways that channel your inner prana. There are seven within you. Yours were nearly sealed forever. If that had happened, your path as a warrior would've ended before it even began."
I blinked slowly, still absorbing the words. So much had happened. So fast.
"You could've died, Aryaman," he continued. "You should have. But you didn't. Do you understand what that means?"
I nodded slowly. "I think I do. But, Guru... why did you leave me behind that day? Why didn't you save me too?"
For a long moment, he didn't answer.
Then, finally: "Because I believed in you."
I looked up sharply.
"I trusted Arun's teachings. Trusted the fire in your eyes. And…" He paused, hiding something behind his gaze. "...because I sensed that the fate around you was too heavy to interrupt. You were meant to face that Asura alone."
He left out something. I could feel it. But I said nothing.
Instead, I whispered, "Guru... I saw someone."
He turned toward me again.
"I don't remember his face clearly. Just… white surrounding. Calm eyes. He held Vajra. He gave it back to me. He told me to train. That I wasn't ready."
Guru Vasistha's brows furrowed—but only for a heartbeat. Then his face settled into that same unreadable calm.
"A divine presence," he said, voice steady. "Maybe a devta. Maybe something more. If he chose not to reveal himself, then it's not our place to force the truth. He'll come again… when the time is right."
Somewhere inside, I already knew that. That presence… it hadn't vanished. It was watching me even now.
Guru stood. "You've been unconscious for a full day. We are at my hermitage near the Gurukul grounds. The others are safe. Tomorrow is the Gurukul's opening ceremony. You'll have until dawn to rest."
I nodded again, the weight of everything slowly sinking into my chest.
As he walked toward the door, I found myself asking quietly, "Guru… what lies ahead?"
He looked back, a strange glint in his eyes. "Pain. Trials. Growth. The path of dharma is not an easy one, Aryaman. But you were never meant to walk an ordinary path."
He stepped outside into the fading light, the door creaking softly behind him.
Alone in the silence, I touched the hilt of Vajra beside me. The sword was cold now, but steady. Like a companion. Like a promise.
The journey had only just begun. But deep within me, something stirred. A current. A pulse. A lightning flicker in my veins.
My chakras had survived. My will had endured.
And my story… was far from over.