It had been a week since Arjun and Vhim left their village behind, carrying only a few supplies, the weight of their dreams, and the burning desire to grow stronger. Their destination was the mysterious cottage of Sage Sharun — a name that neither of them had ever heard until their grandfather mentioned it. But the old man spoke with such conviction, such certainty, that they hadn't questioned it. If Sage Sharun was truly someone who could help them become powerful, they were ready to walk any path.
They had traveled southward, as instructed, through fields and forests, across rivers, and through small villages that dotted the region. Yet, with each new place they entered, their hope diminished a little more.
"Sage? What sage? No one like that lives here. Maybe check the next village," said the villagers, again and again.
Three villages later, they still had no trace of this so-called sage. Only vague gestures pointing further ahead, further away.
Now, they were on a mountain trail — one the last village elder had pointed toward with the same uncertainty as the others. "If you cross that mountain, you'll find another village. Maybe that's the one you're looking for," the old man had said.
And so, they climbed. The terrain was rough and uneven. The slopes were steep, the winds colder than expected, and the path often disappeared under thick patches of moss, roots, or loose stones. What was supposed to be a day-long hike had now stretched into the third day, and still, there was no sign of civilization. Only rocks, trees, and silence.
As the sun began to dip beneath the jagged ridges of the mountain, painting the sky in fiery oranges and deep purples, Arjun crouched near the edge of a cave, gathering dry wood to build a fire. His clothes were worn, patched in places from the rough travel. His hands, once soft and untrained, now bore blisters and calluses — proof of months of training, hunting, and surviving in the wild.
Vhim had gone to look for food. He had taken the makeshift spear they'd crafted from a sharpened branch and some tied stone, determined to catch a rabbit, or if lucky, a few fish from the nearby stream they had discovered earlier.
Their bodies had grown stronger in the past three months. What began as simple meditation and breathing had evolved into grueling physical trials. Wake up before sunrise. Train until their limbs gave out. Breathe. Run. Hunt. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. Their minds were sharper now. Their senses more refined. They no longer flinched at the sound of rustling in the bushes or the screech of a distant bird. They were learning, slowly, how to survive.
Still, the mountain was testing them.
Arjun struck two stones together until a spark leapt into the dry leaves and sticks. Soon, a fire crackled and hissed, bathing the mouth of the cave in warm light. He sat down, back against the cold stone, arms crossed over his knees. His eyes stared into the flames, lost in thought.
Was this all worth it?
The Sage they were searching for — did he even exist? Why had their grandfather sent them here? Could it have been a mistake? A misunderstanding? Or... was it something more?
A sound from the trees broke his thoughts. Vhim emerged from the darkening forest, face flushed with excitement and a bundle of small fish tied to a stick slung over his shoulder.
"Success!" he grinned, holding up his catch. "The stream paid off."
Arjun allowed himself a small smile. "Good. Let's roast them and eat. We'll need the strength tomorrow."
They skewered the fish on sticks and set them near the flames. The scent of cooking meat soon filled the cave, making both of their stomachs growl in anticipation.
As they ate in silence, the cold night wind howled through the trees. But inside the cave, wrapped in the fire's warmth, it felt almost safe.
"Do you think this Sage Sharun really exists?" Vhim asked between bites, chewing slower now. "We've been walking for a week, and nothing. Just dead ends and villages that never heard of him."
Arjun didn't answer right away. He tossed a fish bone into the fire and watched it blacken.
"I don't know," he admitted. "But Grandpa believed in it. Maybe there's a reason he sent us away."
"You think he just wanted to keep us out of the village?" Vhim asked. "Maybe protect us from something?"
Arjun looked up. "Or maybe prepare us for something."
There was a pause.
"I feel it too," Vhim said after a moment. "Like something's coming. Something big. We were too weak before... but even now..." he clenched his fists. "It's not enough."
They had both felt it. That invisible wall between the powerless and the gifted. Those with soul nature awakening had the world at their feet. And those without? Forgotten. Rejected. Weak.
That's why they were here. To break that wall.
"I just want one chance," Arjun said quietly. "To stand on the same field as them. No more being left behind."
The fire crackled.
The moon rose high above the trees, casting long shadows over the mountain. After the meal, they stretched out on the cave floor, using their rolled-up cloaks as makeshift pillows.
Despite the exhaustion, sleep didn't come easily. Arjun lay awake, watching the dancing shadows on the cave ceiling. His mind wandered back to something strange — something he couldn't remember fully. A dream, perhaps? A white room. A boy with glasses. Something about a wish...
No matter how hard he tried, the memory slipped through his thoughts like smoke.
He turned over and closed his eyes. Tomorrow, they would descend the mountain and reach the next village. Hopefully, that would be the place. Hopefully, Sage Sharun would be real.
Because if he wasn't... they didn't know where else to go.
And time was running out.
.
.
.
Night had deepened.
The shadows inside the cave stretched longer, almost alive, slithering across the rough walls like silent spectators. The once-comforting fire had dwindled to embers, crackling softly in the quiet. Outside, the wind had died down, and the forest stood still — unnaturally still.
Arjun sat upright near the cave mouth, bamboo stick resting against his shoulder, eyes darting toward every faint movement in the dark. He was on guard duty tonight, letting Vhim get some rest. His thoughts wandered — about Sage Sharun, the meaning of their journey, and the strange emptiness that sometimes tugged at his chest when he tried to remember parts of his past. But his thoughts were abruptly shattered.
A sound.
Low. Rumbling. Subtle as a whisper, but sharp enough to cut through the silence.
A growl.
Arjun froze. His breath stopped. His ears strained to confirm what his instincts screamed.
It wasn't the wind.
It wasn't imagination.
Something — no, someone — was here.
He immediately reached for the bamboo stick and turned to Vhim. "Wake up," he whispered, nudging him. "Vhim. Wake up."
Vhim stirred, grumbling in half-consciousness, but the moment the sound hit his ears — that feral growl, deep and guttural — he snapped fully awake. His hand reached out for the second bamboo stick by instinct. His body tensed.
"I hear it," he muttered.
If it had been three months ago, neither of them would have sensed that sound. They would have been caught, helpless. But now? Now they had honed their senses. Their awareness had sharpened.
And that saved them.
The bushes outside rustled. Slowly. Deliberately. Then, with a sound like the air being sliced, something stepped into view.
A tiger.
Not just any tiger — a predator forged by hunger and time. Its fur was black as coal, its body sleek and muscular. White scars slashed across its sides like ghostly tattoos. And its eyes — blood-red and gleaming with malice — locked onto them without hesitation.
Its mouth opened in a silent snarl, rows of yellowed teeth glinting. A predator. Desperate. Driven.
Arjun gripped his bamboo stick tighter. Vhim stood beside him, feet apart, weapon raised.
They didn't run.
They didn't scream.
They breathed.
A deep, synchronized inhale — the kind they had practiced countless times under the sun and stars. This wasn't just survival now. This was the test.
The tiger lunged.
Its body was a blur, slicing through the air with a speed and weight that could crush bone. But the boys were ready. They dropped sideways, rolling on the cave floor as the beast slammed into the spot they had just been.
Before it could recover, they moved.
"Now!" Arjun shouted.
Together, they struck — both bamboo sticks driving downward with every ounce of strength they had, pressing hard against the tiger's thick neck. The beast thrashed, snarled, its paws swiping through the air with murderous force, but their angle gave them an advantage.
Vhim grunted, leaning harder, sweat pouring down his brow. "Hold it—!"
The tiger's claws swiped across Arjun's arm, tearing through his sleeve and grazing his skin. Blood welled, but he didn't flinch. They pressed harder. The bamboo strained under the pressure. The tiger choked, its growl turning into a ragged gasp. Then—
A drop of blood fell.
From the tiger's throat, the blood struck the cave floor.
And everything changed.
Glow.
The cave lit up in sudden, unnatural colors — swirling hues of violet, gold, and sapphire. A pattern erupted from the stone below them, blooming like a flower — intricate lines forming a perfect circle beneath their feet and the tiger's body.
"What the—!?" Vhim stumbled back, eyes wide.
The sigil shone brighter. The air vibrated. The fire was gone. The cold vanished.
And then — silence.
Flash.
The world shattered.
No pain. No scream. No time to react.
They vanished.
The cave was empty. The tiger, the blood, the bamboo — all gone. Only the flicker of fading light remained on the cave walls, slowly dissolving like mist in moonlight.