Only two days remained until the Dwandh. Lioran's training had finally begun to take shape. His movements, once sloppy and hesitant, now carried precision.
The dummy poles that once struck him mercilessly now found themselves dodged and countered with clean, sharp strikes. Shourya had warned him that endurance was as critical as power; against Aishwarya, he would need to outlast her blazing stamina.
Sweat ran down his temples as he delivered another punch at the rotating poles.
Dhamm!
The wood shuddered, recoiled, and he spun away with a counter-kick. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself a breath of pride. But then, mid-motion, something peculiar happened.
Lioran froze. His fist remained extended, trembling slightly, as if his very blood had shifted. He slowly unclenched it, staring at his palm with narrowed eyes.
"Something is… wrong," he muttered.
Curiosity pulled him toward a nearby tree. He lowered into a stance, channeled Prāṇa into his fist, and struck.
BOOM!
The bark splintered under his knuckles, a clean hole forming in the trunk. But that was not all. The branches above began to crack, one by one, snapping as though invisible weight pressed upon them. Even the leaves, untouched, scattered.
Lioran's eyes widened. "So… this is what's happening."
A grin tugged at his lips. "I can use this in the fight."
Then he saw his phone screen. "Oh, it's already 3:30 a.m. I should probably sleep"
Pocketing the phone, he began the walk back to the ashram.
But suddenly he heard.
BOOOOM!
The explosion cracked the stillness of night. His head snapped toward the sound, and without hesitation, he sprinted toward it.
The forest soon opened into a clearing bathed in red and orange. Flames clawed at the trees, embers scattering like falling stars. The air reeked of burning wood and raw energy.
And at the center of it all—stood Aishwarya.
Her figure was framed by firelight. She gathered Prāṇa into her palms, her face twisted in focus. For a moment, Lioran thought she was forming the familiar Prāṇa spheres.
But then, sparks erupted from her hands. Heat shimmered around her arms, and what emerged was not a Prāṇa sphere at all.
A fireball blazed into existence.
Lioran's breath caught. "That's… not Prāṇa."
"Flame Ball!" Aishwarya's voice thundered with raw intensity. She hurled it at a tree.
KA-BOOOM!
The explosion ripped through the trunk. In mere seconds, the tree was nothing but ash swirling in the night.
Lioran crouched low behind a bush, eyes wide with disbelief. "What the hell…?" His foot slipped against damp leaves. CRUNCH!
Aishwarya's head snapped toward him. "Who's there!?"
He cursed under his breath. There was no point hiding now. Straightening, he stepped out with hands raised. "Hello… it's me. Lioran."
Her eyes glowed with firelight, narrowed in suspicion and anger.
"Uh-oh…" he muttered to himself. "I'm gone now."
Her silence was heavier than flames. Finally, she spoke, voice sharp as a blade: "What are you doing here?"
"I-I was just taking a walk," Lioran stammered, forcing a weak smile.
"You fool," she snapped. With a flick of her hand, the inferno around them vanished in an instant—flames snuffed out like candles. Only smoke and scorDhamm!ched earth remained.
Lioran's jaw nearly dropped. She erased fire… just like that?
She turned and began walking away, steps brisk.
"Hey, wait!" he called.
She halted, shoulders stiff. "What do you want?"
"I was thinking…" He hesitated, searching her face for even a shred of softness. There was none. "Can we talk? Just for a bit?"
Her eyes narrowed further. "Why do you think I would want to talk with you?"
"That day, when you first arrived, I saw your expression. It was like… like you hated me. Why? What did I do to you?"
Her fists clenched. She leapt forward, faster than he could blink, aiming a punch straight at his jaw.
WHOOSH!
Instinct screamed. Lioran ducked barely in time, her strike grazing past his cheek. He staggered back, shocked. "What are you doing!?"
"Don't act friendly with me!" she said.
"What?" he gasped. "I just want to understand—"
"Shut up!" Her voice cracked like a whip. "You have no right to ask me anything."
"Why? What did I do?" Lioran said.
Her eyes blazed, a storm of grief and fury. "Because of you, Grandpa started following that damned dream again. Because of you, he'll get hurt… again!"
Lioran's breath faltered. He didn't understand. "Shourya's dream? What dream?" But the pain in her words was undeniable.
Before he could respond, she thrust a finger at him. "Lioran. Let's settle this with a bet."
"A… bet?"
"Yes." Her tone was cold as steel. "If I win the Dwandh, you leave this place. For good."
His chest tightened, but he met her glare. "And if I win?"
Her lips curled into a bitter challenge. "What do you want?"
He hesitated, then spoke with quiet resolve. "If I win… you tell me why you hate me."
The fire in her eyes flickered, then flared. She stepped closer, voice laced with venom. "Fine. But that will never happen. You can't defeat me."
Lioran straightened, confidence simmering beneath his nerves. "We'll see."
Her irritation spiked at the calm in his tone. Without another word, she turned and stormed off into the night.
Lioran stood alone beneath the fading embers, gazing up at the moon. Its pale light washed over his clenched fists. "Then I'll just have to train harder," he whispered. "Sleep can wait."
With renewed determination, he returned to the training ground.
But far beyond the ashram, unseen by either of them, shadows stirred.
On a distant mountain path, a group of cloaked figures moved in silence. Their faces were hidden beneath deep hoods.
The leader raised a hand. The others halted. From the cliffside, they looked down toward the valley where the ashram lay.
They suddenly smiled.
TO BE COTINUED…