Sharv leaped, slashing his sword in a wide, horizontal arc. A torrent of water surged from the blade and extinguished the burning trees nearby. When the water hit nearby earth and walls, it evaporated, in a hissing cloud of steam.
"Oh, mastered the Water Chakra too, have you?" the leader sneered, his grin cynical. "Doesn't matter. I'll stop holding back now." His sneer twisted into maniacal, drunken laughter. He drew his own sword, intense flames swirling around it until a tornado of flame engulfed the steel. He lunged forward.
' He is definitely faster now,' Sharv noticed, ' Almost as fast as me.'
Sharv met the downward slash of the leader with his wooden sword reinforced by the combined power of Earth and Water Chakras.
A flicker of strain finally appeared on Sharv's face as he held against the fiery assault. He darted left, then right, propelled by Air Chakra, evading all the follow up attacks. He avoided any clash of swords and gauged the leader's strength, reading his attack patterns. Before the leader could understand what was happening, Sharv drove his fist into the man's gut with formidable force, sending him hurtling into the forest. The leader crashed heavily amongst the trees, roaring as ten-foot flames erupted around him anew.
Sharv heard the distant clash of weapons from the North East.
'Who's fighting there? Father? No... he shouldn't. His illness... he can't use Chakra.' Intensity flickered in Sharv's eyes, unreadable but present. 'Unless... unless those dacoits reached him?'
Meanwhile, the leader gathered his power, roaring, "This is where it ends, boy! TORNADO BLAZE!" He thrust his sword forward, launching himself with it. A roaring vortex of flame surged towards Sharv, closing the distance rapidly.
Sharv looked at him, his ember eyes reflecting the intense flames. He stood poised in the air, sword held vertically before him in both hands.
"ĀPÀH ĀKĀSH SÀNYOJÀNÀM"
(SPACE WATER ALIGNMENT)
'What language is that?' Abrupt fear flashed in the leader's eyes. 'This doesn't feel right...'
Another pulse of black luminescence emanated from Sharv's neck – the Space Chakra, matching the pulse of Water Chakra.
"ĀKĀSHĪYÀ VICCHEDÀNÀ"
(SPATIAL SEVERANCE)
Sharv vanished with a bright greenish silver pulse around his heart and reappeared beside the leader in the same instant, moving faster than the eye could follow. A cool breeze blew and the inferno surrounding the dacoit and his sword simply vanished, as if it never existed.
"You are strong, whoever you are," Sharv's voice was level, almost conversational. "But how can you master Primordial elements without knowing the Language of Gods?"
The leader stared, first at Sharv, then down at his own sword, his own hands. A perfectly clean line cleaved the broadsword... and the man holding it. He collapsed, cleaved neatly in two, eyes wide with the final shock, mirroring the first dacoit Sharv had slain.
Sharv glanced at the dacoits scorched by their own leader's indiscriminate flames, then towards the spreading fire in the forest where the leader had crashed. He brought out the girl huddled inside the only wooden house nearby, he'd saved with his earlier water attack. He sat her down on a relatively safe open crossroads.
"Everyone, come back! Tend to your homes!" Sharv shouted, his voice carrying over the chaos. Then, without a backward glance, he sprinted towards the North East, towards the sound of clashing weapons.
As he reached the peak of the short North Eastern hill, he saw a man standing amongst corpses. He was supporting himself with his sword, as a cane. The corpses, counting five, had a distinguished blackish golden badge on their chests, with insignia of Purple peacock shimmering in moonlight.
" Sharv? " The man questioned in a deep hoarse voice.
" Yes, Father, It's me." Sharv replied calmly.
" ...Finally..." With a cough , the man fell straight back.
Sharv caught his father just before he hit the ground, his body already going stiff. Sharv laid him down gently on the grass and sat beside him, looking at his face with sad eyes.
"Why did you fight, Father, when you can't even use Chàkràs?" he asked in a low, sad voice. The grass was still green, the sky still blue, the breeze unchanged. The scenery remained beautiful, but the moon was losing its shine.
"Son," Shyam said in a weak voice, "sometimes life brings you to a crossroads where every path leads to defeat. At that moment, you go where your duty guides. I did the same."
"I understand." Sharv nodded. He tried to heal his father, but there was no improvement in his condition. His wounds closed when Sharv used his PRÁNÀ to heal them, but reopened the moment he stopped.
"I have been infected by their cursed techniques," Shyam said, looking at Sharv's face with eyes that held many stories – some sorrowful, some unfulfilled, some simply tragic. "My PRÁNÀ flows without control, and my body can no longer contain it. Don't waste your efforts, Son."
"Their curses? You mean... THEY, the Voidhearts?" Sharv questioned, his expression contemplative.
"Yes. The Voidhearts, Son," Shyam spoke in broken words, coughing up blood. "Somehow they reached here…probably informants. But they were weak and I don't think all of them attacked. "
Sharv looked at his father. His face was calm but his eyes held unexpressed sadness. "Not a single tear falls from my eyes, Father." He spoke slowly.
"Don't you think I'm really a Voidheart, Father? Just like they say?" Sharv asked, his voice soft but laced with sadness.
"A Voidheart, you say… yet here you are, sounding sad," his father, Shyam, replied in a hoarse, breaking voice. " Acting needs understanding. Meaning even if you're acting sad, you understand what sadness is, Sharv."
Sharv loosened his neck and lowered his gaze. The ember of his eyes dimming, just like the moonlight.
"Sharv," Shyam continued, "the light of my life is already slipping into the darkness of death. I had hoped to walk beside you... but now, you must go alone."
He paused to catch a breath, blood escaping from his lips.
" The Forest of Death awaits you for your trial."
Sharv remained silent, letting his father's words settle like dust.
"Under my bed… in the bedroom," Shyam rasped, "a small box is buried. You'll need it to pass the trial."
Sharv gently supported his father's back as Shyam coughed again.
"And son…" Shyam added, voice nearly gone, "Promise me… that you'll do what you did today… whenever needed. Let your actions reveal your emotions. And never again… call yourself Voidheart."
With one final breath and a weak cough, Shyam's soul left his body.
Sharv looked at the corpses lying nearby. Then his gaze shifted toward the horizon.
The sun of his life, the one who had guided him until now, had set. Simultaneously, the first rays of the morning sun were peeking over the horizon, messengers of its rise. Then he looked west, down the small hill. There, the intense, dancing flames consuming the nearby forest gave the impression of a second sun, one that had forgotten its path across the sky.