A few years ago,
the sun filtered softly through the emerald leaves of the towering forest trees, casting dappled light across the stone path that led to the magnificent Temple of Mata Aranyani, goddess of the forest. In the capital of the Forest Elves, the day bustled as usual. Elves of all ranks, male and female alike, moved with grace and purpose through the temple courtyard, their conversations like whispers carried on the wind.
But on a lonely stone bench by the roadside sat a young girl, barely fourteen, her expression clouded with sadness and silence. Her hands rested in her lap, her gaze fixed on the moss-covered ground. Despite the many elves passing by, none gave her more than a glance.
Until one did.
A girl of nineteen, with beautiful eyes and a peaceful appearance, stepped gracefully down the marble steps of the temple. Her long hair flowed like a stream of midnight, and her emerald robes shimmered faintly with enchantment. Her eyes caught sight of the lonely child.
With curiosity and warmth, she approached.
"You seem troubled," she said gently, her voice soft like falling leaves.
The younger girl looked up slowly. "My mother says I'm useless," she whispered. "No matter what task she gives me, I fail."
The older girl knelt slightly to meet her eyes, offering a kind smile. "It's alright. Mothers say many things in anger… because they care."
The girl shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "That's not the worst part. She… she threw me out of the house this morning."
A flicker of surprise passed over the older girl's face, but it quickly melted into thoughtful calm. She considered her options: if she spoke to the mother, the girl might return home, or, perhaps worse, the mother might refuse her, creating a larger problem. Her first step, I decided, was to ascertain the girl's own wishes. She tilted her head, as if weighing something.
"If you wish to go home, I will take you," she offered.
The young girl shook her head. "No need. My mother told me my life would change if I waited here and didn't try to go home. She said I would see the meaning of life, and it would help me to be useful in every way."
"Well , so you will not go to your home," the older girl said brightly, "in that case, your problem is already solved."
The younger girl blinked. "What do you mean?"
The older girl extended her hand. "First, tell me your name."
"...Pragya," the younger girl replied hesitantly.
"Pragya," the older girl repeated, nodding. "A beautiful name. Mine is Anvi."
Pragya's eyes lit up faintly. "That's a lovely name. What does it mean?"
Anvi smiled. "My family named me after the goddess of the forest. It means 'divine forest path.'"
Pragya looked down, still unsure. "But… how is my problem solved?"
Anvi gently took her hand. "Because from today, you'll stay with me. You'll work alongside me, learn from me. And trust me—soon, you'll be useful in ways your mother never imagined."
Pragya stared at her, wide-eyed.
Anvi's smile widened with warmth. "Sometimes the forest doesn't guide us to the place we want… it guides us to the people we need."
Pragya followed Anvi down the winding forest path, the trees parting like curtains to reveal a village town nestled in a sun-dappled glade. The settlement was unlike anything Pragya had ever seen. Elves and demi-humans moved side by side, laughing, working, and trading as though no barriers had ever existed between their kinds.
She blinked in awe. "What is this place…?" she breathed. "An elf raised in the capital could never imagine such a scene. This area is completely developed in trade."
Anvi smiled at her side, joy shining in her eyes. "Surprised, aren't you?"
Pragya nodded slowly, still absorbing the harmony around her. "Surprised? That doesn't even begin to describe it. I never thought such a life was even possible—elves, demi-humans, others... living together as one community."
"I'm glad you like it," Anvi replied, her voice warm with pride. "But it didn't always look like this. It took years of hard work."
"Hard work?" Pragya asked, tilting her head.
Before Anvi could answer, a voice rang out from the crowd. "Miss Cetana! You've returned from the capital!"
A foxkin woman with russet fur and bright amber eyes approached, her bushy tail swishing behind her. Anvi laughed softly and waved.
"Yes, I'm back," Anvi said, then stepped aside to gesture toward the girl beside her. "And look who I've brought with me. Her name is Pragya."
The foxkin lady turned to the young elf and gave a warm nod. "Welcome, little one."
Anvi leaned close to Pragya. "You've had a long journey. You must be hungry. Try our village food—it's simple, but I promise, it'll be the best meal you've ever had."
She turned to leave, her responsibilities calling. "I have other matters to tend to, but we'll speak later. Rest well, Pragya."
As Anvi disappeared into the village, Pragya turned to the foxkin. "Why did you call her 'Cetana'? I thought her name was Anvi."
The foxkin woman chuckled softly. "Anvi is her birth name, yes. But to us, she is Cetana—the soul of our town and us."
Pragya's brow furrowed in curiosity. "What do you mean?"
The foxkin's eyes glimmered with gratitude. "Before she came to this town, our village was struggling—poor, forgotten, barely surviving. But Cetana (Anvi) saw something in us. She listened, worked alongside us, and helped us discover our talents. She opened trade routes around this forest, trained our smiths and magicians, and taught us to believe in ourselves."
She gestured proudly at the vibrant marketplace around them. "All of this exists because of her. Our village is now known across the entire forest elf territory—and beyond.
Years passed quietly in the village, and Pragya—once the girl abandoned by her mother —had grown under Anvi's care. She watched the town evolve: smiths forging enchanted blades, magicians weaving spells into daily life, trade flowing, and joy blooming like wildflowers. And she, too, played her part—contributing where she could, learning much from Anvi and others.
But then, one day, the peace trembled.
A forest elf guard arrived at the village gates, an elf man adorned in the silver and green of the royal army. The air shifted. He called for the one who led this town.
Other demi-humans took the elf guard to Anvi's house, proclaiming, "This is our Cetana!" The guard stated, "Our King wants to meet this village head or ruler."
Anvi, now frail and weakened by illness, was confined to her home. When the villagers turned to her for a response, Anvi paused, considering her inability to travel to the capital. Suddenly, Pragya stepped forward with confidence.
"I will go," she said.
Anvi, watching her with tired yet trusting eyes, gave a faint nod. With a smile, she asked, "Are you sure you can handle it?" Pragya replied, "Yes, please trust in me." Cetana ( anvi ) , then said, "Okay. Go, child."
The journey to the capital was long, but Pragya carried herself like one born for court. When she returned to the village, she walked straight to Anvi's home, excitement glowing in her eyes.
"Our King is pleased with our town's development," she said, kneeling beside Anvi's chair.
Anvi, who had been peacefully gazing at the sky, turned her head to look at Pragya. "Thank you, Pragya," she said, a faint smile gracing her lips. "That's truly good news."
Pragya playfully chided, "Don't make that face like a sad person."
"Oh, this is my happy face," Anvi countered.
"Wow, wait, I have more to say!" Pragya exclaimed. "The King recognizes our efforts, our progress. He wishes to give us the chance to choose a name for our town!"
Anvi's pale lips curled into a wider smile. "Really? I must inform everyone! The whole village needs to know!" She rose slowly with the help of others and addressed the gathered elves, demi-humans, and townsfolk.
"Today, we are no longer separate from the forest elf territory," she announced. "Our King welcomes us as citizens of his forest elves territory. And with his blessing, we and other wants to give this village a name. From this day forward, let our home be called Tamal Village."
A wave of cheers erupted. The townsfolk clapped, sang, and danced through the streets. Children laughed, and drums echoed with joy.
But in the corner of the roadside, Pragya stood alone, her expression unreadable.
She was thinking about what truly transpired during her meeting with the king—the truth she hadn't told Anvi.
The king had not been pleased with Anvi's refusal to send goods beyond the forest borders. He saw the potential in the town's growing trade. And so, he had made a quiet offer.
"You, girl," the king had said, his eyes narrowed beneath his crown. "If you lead your town instead of Anvi, trade shall flourish by which both will get profit. I will grant you the title of Cetana and my full support."
That secret now burned in Pragya's chest. The opportunity had come, and she knew it this chance might not come again.
That evening, while the village celebrated, Pragya watched elves and demi-humans gather outside Anvi's home, bringing sweets and flowers. Anvi, still weak, remained seated inside, unable to join the festivities. The house glowed warmly with diya's, laughter drifting through its windows.
In silence, Pragya took a hidden pouch of fire sand—banned within the town for its deadly and uncontrollable flames. She crept near Anvi's home, her movements swift and deliberate. With cold precision, she scattered the sand across the perimeter of the house, then disappeared into the shadow of the trees.
Eight minutes later, the fire erupted.
Flames tore through the wooden beams, devouring everything in their path. Screams echoed through the air—elf children, elders, a few demi-humans, and Anvi—all trapped inside.
Smoke blackened the night sky as villagers rushed to stop the blaze, but the fire sand was relentless. Even enchanted water could barely hold it back.
Pragya stood among the chaos, her face bathed in the flickering light, her lips curled in a small, evil smile. Anvi, struggling to get out with the others, she saw it pragya smile between crowd.
And after that, Anvi—once Cetana, the beloved guardian of the town—died in that inferno, her voice lost in the roaring fire. Whole village town become sad and silent.
The next day, amid mourning and confusion, the grieving and desperate villagers decided that Pragya should take charge, as she had done so well after Anvi's passing. And so, Pragya became Cetana, the new leader of the tamal town.
In the present time, as Madhav spotted the acid-tipped arrow, he narrowed his eyes and said coldly, "Not clever enough."
Ravin reacted swiftly, stepping back into a more defensible position. His grip tightened on his upgraded crossbow. "I don't care if I'm clever or not," he hissed, a villainous aura about him. "No time for games. I need to finish this and get back to Cetana, see how she is."
Just as Ravin took aim, a sudden shift in the air occurred. Without warning, Madhav's unconscious skill activated—a dormant power he had yet to fully understand. A wave of energy pulsed out from him.
Ravin blinked, darkness clouding his vision. His crossbow slipped from his hands, clattering to the ground as his limbs betrayed him, refusing to obey. Stunned, he collapsed to his knees.
Ketaki looked on, wide-eyed and taken aback by the strange surge of energy.
Mohit, still recovering, chuckled softly. "Looks like that guy's done for," he muttered. "Perhaps now someone should check on the crazy lady which is now injured because of her monster."
Madhav approached the fallen Ravin slowly, his voice laced with sardonic amusement. "What happened? You were in such a hurry just a moment ago."
But before Madhav could even think to strike, a sudden voice resonated directly in his mind: "Your skill has been canceled."
Ravin's bracelet, which had been glowing with a pulsating blue light, flared intensely. In the blink of an eye, Ravin's body surged back to life, launching him to his feet. With a silent, primal roar, he unleashed an upward Plasma Punch straight into Madhav's face. The impact was immediate and devastating, erupting with a violent burst of heat and light, a blinding flash of superheated plasma exploding in all directions.
Madhav was not moved from that place ,he remained standing straight, despite the side of his face being seared by the blast and flames still present on his head, face, and neck. His body slowly recoiled a little as the blast smoke dispersed into the air. The resulting shockwave cracked the earth and scorched the nearby leaves.
Ravin staggered back into a defensive stance, panting hard, his bracelet still glowing faintly. "Thank God," he mumbled, "this is good. The bracelet not only canceled his power but also gave me an extraordinary boost. Thank you, teacher, for this bracelet."
Ketaki, witnessing the sudden, immense blast that hit Madhav, instinctively lunged forward to rush to his side. However, Mohit, now more stable on his feet and his condition now better also, gently caught her hand.
"Wait," he said. "He'll be fine. Madhav doesn't go down that easily."
"Madhav's face was scorched from my plasma punch—flesh seared, bone briefly visible beneath the torn skin. But then, to my growing horror, the flames began to die down. The burned skin shimmered faintly, healing before my very eyes. Within moments, his damage was gone as if it had never been."
When I took a shaky breath, glancing at the bracelet on my wrist. Its glow had faded.
"Damn it…bastard my attack and my power, they're having no effect on him, and he's already healing. What kind of skill or power does he have?" Ravin muttered with tension voice. "The bracelet's energy is almost depleted. I can't use Plasma Punch on him again. And my crossbow... it's right in front of him. I need it, but my attacks are useless. What do I do?"
On the other side, Mohit had already noticed Ravin's focus.
"He's going for the crossbow," Mohit whispered to Ketaki. "We need to get it. If he gets that weapon again, he'll surely fire another arrow at us."
Ketaki replied, "Okay, I'll do something with my power, or I'll use my fairy friend."
Mohit shook his head. "No, I'm faster. We don't have time; we have to get it first."
"Wait!" Ketaki called out, but Mohit was already running.
Here the two of them closed in on the weapon, Ravin's hand stretching out—but Mohit's fingers wrapped around it first. Ravin's eyes flared with fury. With a snarl, he launched a flurry of kicks and strikes using his martial arts and Karate , aiming for Mohit's chest.
Before Mohit could counter, Ketaki cast a protective spell, binding flame and nature magic together. Roots surged from the ground, vines lashed out, and a fiery shield sparked to life in front of Mohit. The clash threw Mohit sideways, sending him tumbling across the earth until he landed beside Cetana's motionless body. The crossbow clattered to the ground, shattered from the force of the impact.
Ravin's rage deepened. "Hey, bastard, look what you've done !" he snarled, trying to rush towards Mohit.
Just then, Madhav appeared behind him like a ghost in the mist. He grabbed Ravin by the hair and slammed a fist into the back of his head.
"Did you forget me that I also there ?" Madhav's voice cut through the air.
"How could I forget you?" Ravin retorted, his voice seething with anger. "I'm the one who's going to kill you and your friend, don't worry." He swiftly dodged, twisted free, and retaliated with a series of karate strikes. The two exchanged brutal blows. Suddenly, Madhav serious look said i think you have
misunderstand you will never kill me or any body and he unleashed a barrage of street-style attacks—punches, kicks, elbows, and knees—targeting Ravin's face and body.
Each move was calculated and fierce. Despite his face and body bleeding, Ravin maintained control. He launched a direct knee strike to Madhav's chin, then retreated a few steps. Without wasting a moment, he reached into his belt pocket and hurled two projectiles: a smoke bomb and a blast sphere.
Madhav caught the smoke bomb in mid-air. It exploded with a hiss, enveloping him in a thick black cloud. Then came the blast sphere, hitting nearby with a deafening crack.
But as he approached, he found Mohit already kneeling beside her, silent.
"What happened?" Ravin demanded, his voice tight with worry.
"I checked," Mohit said, his voice low and sad. "She's dead."
Ravin froze. "What...? She's... dead?" His voice cracked. "How can she be dead?"
"Yeah," Mohit nodded. "Funny thing is, I already told you that monster attacked that lady."
"So what?" Ravin countered. "Miss Cetana only called that creature by using her power."
Mohit stood up. "As I know, she was an elf, so why did I hear a strange voice in my head? I received a skill from that."
"What?! That's not possible!" Ravin barked. "She's an elf, not a human! Elves and other creatures are created by wishe—that shouldn't happen!"
Mohit smirked. "Well… seems the rules are changing."
Enraged, Ravin lunged forward, grabbing Mohit by the neck and slamming him to the ground. "You'll die by hand if you try to use that skill!"
But suddenly, Ravin paused—his gaze landing on Cetana's lifeless body.
"I'm here fighting like a fool… and she's die?"
He left Mohit on the ground and knelt beside Cetana's body. His hand trembled as he pulled a small, beetle-shaped artifact from his pouch and placed it against her neck. Instantly, a glowing magic circle appeared, humming in the air around her.
Cetana's eyes snapped open—but they were blank, empty. She moved like a puppet, a zombie bound by spell.
Without hesitation, Ravin took out a small vial of shimmering blue liquid and forced it into her mouth. The change was immediate.
Her body convulsed once… twice. Then her gaze sharpened, and the light returned to her eyes. Her consciousness had reawakened.
Cetana was alive once again.