The control room of the Ashram was quiet except for the faint hum of machinery. Screens flickered with shifting images of the forest that surrounded the sanctuary. Mukhi leaned back lazily in his chair, a steaming cup of masala tea between his palms.
He blew across the surface, savoring the sharp aroma of cardamom and ginger, then took a slow sip.
"Ahhh…" he exhaled, letting the warmth roll down his throat. "In the morning, nothing can beat a sip of masala tea."
DING–DING–DING–DING!
The peace shattered as an alarm screamed across the room.
The porcelain cup rattled against the console.
"What—?!" Mukhi jolted upright, almost spilling tea across the panel. He spun toward the largest monitor where red warning bars pulsed. With a quick tap, the nearest camera feed enlarged.
The grainy footage steadied, showing the edge of the forest trail.
A lone figure was walking.
A girl—no older than eighteen—stepped through the mist with unhurried grace, her eyes fixed straight toward the Ashram.
Mukhi's face drained of color.
"Oh no…" His lips trembled. "Not her. She came."
He shot out of the chair, nearly knocking it over, and bolted for the exit.
"I have to tell Master!"
At the waterfall clearing, the roar of crashing water drowned the forest silence. Mist swirled like silver veils, painting rainbows in the sunlight. Lioran and Sharin stood with sweat dripping down their brows, their breaths heavy but proud.
Shourya, arms crossed, nodded with satisfaction.
"Well done, both of you," he said. "Your progress is steady. You've grown stronger than you were yesterday, and that's what matters."
Sharin stretched his sore arm with a grin. "We'll keep pushing."
Shourya's expression grew serious. He stepped closer, his presence commanding.
"Now, it's time for the next step. Today, you will learn about your Prāṇa Attributes."
Both students blinked.
"Prāṇa attribute?" Sharin tilted his head.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Lioran asked.
Shourya spread his palms, the mist curling around his fingertips.
"Everything you see in this world is shaped by five elements."
He raised one hand. FWOOSH! A flame burst alive in his palm, flickering hot and bright.
"Fire."
Both boys stepped back in awe.
In his other hand, moisture condensed. SHHHHH–POP! A sphere of clear water spun gently, reflecting their stunned faces.
"Water."
Then, crouching low, he pressed a hand to the ground. RUMMMBLE! The earth cracked, and jagged rocks thrust upward from the soil.
"Earth."
Shourya inhaled deeply, then exhaled with force. WHOOSH! A gust of wind erupted, strong enough to ruffle their hair and send loose leaves flying.
"Air."
Finally, he pointed skyward. "And last… Ākāśa."
Lioran and Sharin exchanged glances, eyes wide.
"Prāṇa," Shourya continued, "is not just raw energy. It carries within it these attributes. Each warrior is born aligned to one—or sometimes more. Attributes determine your strengths, your weaknesses, and even the way your soul resonates with the world."
He began explaining patiently, his voice carrying the weight of centuries.
"Those with Fire attribute can summon flames, manipulate them at will. Their power is offensive, explosive, and destructive."
He clenched his fiery palm, letting the blaze vanish with a hiss.
"Those of Water can shape and control water. They are adaptive, calm, and resilient."
"Air users move with great speed. Their reflexes surpass most, their attacks swift as storms."
"The Earth attribute grants control over stone and soil. Their strength is in defense, endurance, and stability."
He lowered his hand, his gaze sharpening.
"And then… Ākāśa. The rarest of all. So rare that in recorded history, only seven warriors have awakened it—including Vaelion himself."
The name echoed like thunder. Both students stiffened.
"Ākāśa is not uniform. Every bearer manifests differently. One may heal wounds, another may weave illusions so real that reality itself trembles. Some can read thoughts… and some can even bend space."
Lioran's eyes gleamed. "Just how vast is Prāṇa, Master?"
Shourya's gaze softened. "Even I don't know. We are still only scratching the surface of its mysteries."
Sharin folded his arms, muttering. "Prāṇa is far more complicated than I imagined."
"One more thing," Shourya added. "A person may wield more than one attribute. The rarest can wield several."
Sharin perked up. "What about you, Master? What's your attribute?"
Shourya smirked faintly.
"…Four."
"What?!" Sharin nearly shouted. "You can use four attributes? That's insane!"
Shourya rubbed the back of his neck, almost sheepish. "I am the only one in this era who can wield four. But enough about me. It's time to discover yours."
From his satchel, Shourya retrieved three small wooden slabs, polished smooth and carved with faint runes. He set them upon a flat rock.
"These," he said, "are Attribute Slabs. They react to Prāṇa. Focus your energy into them, and they will reveal your alignment."
He crouched beside one slab, extending his hand. His students activated their Prāṇa Vision, watching intently as currents of light flowed from his core.
VMMMMMM—THRUM!
The slab pulsed as his Prāṇa struck it.
The first corner ignited with flame.
The second corner dripped with water.
The third turned rough and rocky.
The fourth remained untouched.
Shourya withdrew his hand.
"You see? Because I command four attributes, the slab manifested fire, water, and earth. The last corner remained empty, which in this case indicates air."
Lioran leaned forward, fascinated. "These slabs are incredible."
"Now it's your turn." Shourya stepped back. "Channel your Prāṇa. Don't force it—just let it flow."
Both boys approached the slabs, their hands trembling slightly with anticipation.
They closed their eyes. VMMM… VMMM… The air buzzed faintly as their Prāṇa surged outward.
Lioran's slab flared first. A soft golden radiance spread across its surface. It wasn't fire, nor water, nor any earthly element—it was something purer.
Shourya's breath caught. His eyes widened with recognition. "Just like Vaelion… I knew it."
Then, beside him, Sharin's slab pulsed. But instead of light, it darkened. The entire wood turned ashen black, swallowing brightness like a void.
Shourya froze. "What is this? I've never seen a slab react like this before… black?"
Sharin leaned forward. "Whoa… Lioran, your slab's glowing golden!"
Lioran nodded, still stunned. "Yeah… but yours… it's pitch black."
For a heartbeat, unease filled the clearing. Then Shourya composed himself, smiling calmly. He walked to them, placing a hand on each of their shoulders.
"Both of you," he said firmly, "have awakened the rare Ākāśa Attribute. Lioran, your light is as pure as Vaelion's itself. Sharin… yours is something new. Unique. I cannot yet define it, but it holds tremendous potential."
The boys looked at each other, a silent spark of determination passing between them.
"Now," Shourya continued, "your journey truly begins. Train hard, surpass yourselves. That is the only path forward."
THUMP–THUMP–THUMP!
Footsteps echoed urgently through the clearing. Mukhi stumbled into sight, panting heavily, sweat dripping down his brow.
"Master! Master!" he gasped, clutching his chest.
Shourya stepped forward. "What is it, Mukhi?"
"She… she came…" Mukhi wheezed, his breath ragged.
"Who?" Shourya frowned.
Before Mukhi could answer, a soft voice floated from behind him.
"I came?"
Mukhi stiffened. Slowly, he turned.
A young girl stood at the edge of the clearing, her presence as quiet as the drifting mist. She wore a simple white dress that fluttered with the breeze. Her eyes—calm yet piercing—rested on Shourya. Her short black hair was so beautiful. She was literally so cute.
Lioran and Sharin both straightened in confusion.
"Who is she?" Lioran whispered.
Shourya's body went rigid, his expression torn between shock and something deeper—pain, perhaps. His lips trembled as he finally spoke.
"She…" His voice lowered. "…is my granddaughter."
TO BE CONTINUED…