POV: Arav
Morning light filtered into Arav's room, warm and soft, but somehow everything felt… louder.
Not sound.
Not movement.
Aether.
It flowed around him like invisible currents, brushing against his skin with tiny sparks. Even breathing felt different, like the air carried whispers he couldn't quite understand.
He stretched his arms—
fwsshhh—
A small flicker of fire slipped from his fingertips.
Arav froze.
"Don't ignite your bedsheets," he muttered to himself.
Last time he burned something, Aaryan's eyebrows twitched for five minutes straight.
The door slid open.
Isha peered in, hair messy, clutching her moon-patterned blanket like a tiny guardian spirit.
"Bhaiya?" she yawned. "Are you glowing again?"
Arav looked down.
…He was glowing a little.
Just a faint warm shimmer around his skin.
He sighed. "It's normal, I think."
"No, it's not," she declared proudly. "You're a sparkle potato."
"I'm not—"
Sharanya appeared behind her.
"Good morning, Arav."
"Good morning," he said quickly, trying to hide his shimmer behind the blanket.
Sharanya's lips curved.
"Sweetheart… you cannot cover fire with cloth."
"Just trying," Arav mumbled.
She chuckled and kissed his forehead.
"You don't need to hide anything. Come on. Breakfast is ready."
Isha grabbed his hand.
"Let's go, sparkle potato!"
"Stop calling me that!"
---
⭐ POV: Aaryan
Aaryan stood at the balcony overlooking the Flame Courtyard, arms folded, expression tight.
The entire courtyard still hummed faintly with residual fire-aether.
Awakening traces usually faded within an hour.
Arav's had lingered for an entire night.
"It's stronger than expected," Aaryan muttered.
He wasn't afraid of Arav's talent.
He was afraid of the attention that kind of talent attracted.
Sharanya joined him, handing him tea.
"You're brooding," she said gently.
"He's four," Aaryan whispered. "Four, Sharanya. And the world already felt his presence."
Sharanya touched his arm.
"You wanted him to be safe, not ordinary."
"Yes," he admitted quietly.
"But power draws eyes that shouldn't be watching."
His mind replayed the crack of thunder from yesterday—
not lightning, but something like a heartbeat across the distance.
Another awakening.
Another anomaly.
Aaryan sipped his tea.
"Two stars rising on the same day," he murmured.
"That has never boded well in history."
Sharanya smiled faintly.
"Or perhaps it bodes greatness."
Aaryan didn't reply.
Because deep in his chest, a quiet unease coiled.
---
⭐ POV: Elder Varun Ashvathar — Council Hall
Elder Varun leaned forward, tapping the crystal embedded in the center of the round table.
A faint flame-like projection flickered above it, replaying last night's reading.
A surge.
A flare.
A ripple across the city.
"Impossible…" he muttered for the hundredth time.
A prodigy awakening of this scale should have been unmistakably easy to trace.
The resonance should have pointed to a location, a courtyard, a clan sector.
Instead—
"It vanished," Varun whispered.
Not faded—
vanished.
As if swallowed.
A fellow elder frowned. "Are you suggesting someone masked it?"
Varun shook his head. "Masking an awakening? At this level? No one in our clan is capable. Even our Patriarch would struggle."
Silence spread.
Then Varun said the words they were all avoiding:
"…Something awakened that does not want to be seen."
The hall chilled slightly.
Another elder leaned back.
"Should we investigate?"
Varun exhaled slowly.
"No. Not yet. A presence that powerful, if it wishes to stay hidden… let it."
But in his mind, a single, fiery curiosity burned.
Who awakened?
Where?
Why was the fire so pure?
If he knew the answer,
the clan's future might be changed forever.
---
⭐ POV: Unknown Thunder Child
A faint tremor ran through the wooden floor as the boy opened his eyes.
He didn't know why.
He didn't know what caused it.
But deep inside his young chest, lightning hummed like a second heartbeat.
And for the first time—
He felt someone else.
A faint warmth—
not soft like sunlight,
but bold, fierce, stubborn.
Fire.
The boy tilted his head, barely old enough to understand words like "cultivation" or "awakening."
But he understood feeling.
And this feeling—
He didn't like it.
His brows furrowed instinctively.
Lightning flickered along the edges of his fingertips.
A faint crackle.
A spark.
A challenge.
Somewhere far, far away,
someone had answered him.
He didn't know the boy's name.
He didn't know where he lived.
He didn't know anything.
But he knew this:
That fire would not surpass him.
The air around him tightened.
Thunder whispered approval—
or perhaps provocation.
The boy clenched his tiny fist.
The first seed of rivalry,
small as an ember,
burned into existence.
---
⭐ POV: Arav (Return)
After breakfast, Arav sat on the courtyard floor, legs crossed, trying to follow Aaryan's instructions:
"Deep breaths. Draw aether inward. Gently— don't force—"
WHOOOSH
A burst of fire shot up, scorching a leaf off a nearby plant.
Aaryan froze mid-sip of tea.
Sharanya sighed.
Isha cheered. "Bhaiya made roasted leaf!"
Arav buried his face in his hands.
"Please tell me the academy won't see this."
Aaryan coughed.
"Well… you have nine years to fix it."
"Nine years?" Arav squeaked.
Sharanya patted his back. "You'll improve. Or the plants will burn. Either way, progress!"
Arav stared at his glowing hands.
Something inside him tightened—
not fear, not anxiety—
Resolve.
He didn't know what kind of future waited for him.
But he knew one thing:
He would shape it with his own flame.