"Sumit!"
Ryvash's voice echoed from the corridor, firm yet calm, carrying the authority of someone who rarely needed to repeat himself. Come with me. We need to collect your school uniform today.
Inside the quiet warmth of the room, the faint aroma of tea lingered. Sumit's mother and Emily sat by the low table, steam curling lazily from their cups. A soft peace clung to the space—fragile, but precious, after the storm of the past few days.
At the sound of her brother's voice, Sumit's mother lifted her head. Her lips curved faintly, though worry still hid in her eyes. She called out toward the door, her tone gentle but edged with that unshakable weight only a mother's care could carry.
You both take care on the way… and Sumit, don't wander around too much.
Ryvash stepped briefly inside, his shadow stretching against the wooden floor. He offered his sister a reassuring nod, his voice steady and reliable.
Don't worry, sister. He'll be safe with me. It's only the Academy's quartermaster's office—we'll be back before nightfall.
The creak of the staircase interrupted him. Sumit came rushing down, his hair a little tousled, eyes glinting with eagerness.
Let's go, Mama(meaning his mother's brother → sumit's uncle)! he called, trying to sound bold. But the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him.
At the doorway, he crouched quickly to slip on his sandals, fumbling as if speed could mask his nerves. From his voice alone, it was clear—today, Sumit carried both nerves and excitement. After that terrifying incident on his very first day, this was the first time he was leaving home properly. For him, this wasn't just about a uniform. It was about stepping outside again, breathing in the world without fear.
Ryvash, watching him silently, couldn't help but think the same. He's nervous… but he's eager. Good. He's moving forward.
"Come on, hurry!" Sumit urged, fumbling with his sandal straps. "Or we'll be late!"
Ryvash chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah… let's go."
Emily, still sipping her tea beside Sumit's mother, burst into laughter. She leaned closer, whispering teasingly, This child… in the morning he was trembling like a frightened rabbit, and now look at him—so excited to go out, as if nothing happened.
Even Sumit's mother let out a faint smile, though her fingers tightened around her teacup. A mother's worry was not so easily soothed.
At the gate, sunlight spilled across the cobbled path. Sumit tugged impatiently at his uncle's sleeve, urging him to move faster. For the first time in days, the house was filled not with tension, but with laughter and footsteps heading toward something new.
"Mama," Sumit said suddenly, tilting his head up with curiosity. Can we first go see the school?
Ryvash arched a brow, half-amused. Ah, kid… first let's get your uniform. If we end up late and don't get it, your mother won't spare us.
Sumit laughed sheepishly. Yeah… you're right. Let's get the uniform first. But… we'll hurry, right?
"Yeah, yeah, don't worry—we'll be quick ," Ryvash said, raising his hand to stop a passing horse cart.
The wooden wheels creaked as the cart slowed. Its driver was a wiry old man, his posture straight despite his age. A deep-blue turban framed his weathered face. His ivory kurta was simple, but the dark waistcoat over it gave him a quiet dignity. A coarse shawl hung from his shoulders, frayed at the edges, yet carefully kept. His sharp eyes spoke of long years spent on the roads.
"Market," Ryvash instructed as he climbed in with Sumit. The driver gave a curt nod and clicked his tongue, setting the oxen into motion.
As the cart rattled forward, Sumit leaned against the small wooden frame, eyes wide, soaking in everything. The streets bustled with color and sound. Merchants shouted their wares, bolts of fabric in every hue fluttered in the breeze, and the aroma of roasted spices clung to the air.
But it wasn't the goods that caught his attention most—it was the people.
Men and women walked in striking garments: embroidered robes shimmering with faint runes, armor inscribed with glowing crests, tunics lined with sigils that pulsed faintly with magic. Some flicked their fingers to conjure sparks of fire to cook food on street stoves. Others shaped water in mid-air to wash fruit, while illusionists entertained children with colorful animals dancing above their palms.
Every few blocks, armored soldiers stood in pairs, their spears gleaming under the sun. Their eyes swept the crowd with the calm sharpness of hawks.
This time, the sight didn't scare Sumit. Instead, his heart swelled with excitement. This world… it's alive. It's amazing!
Then, something massive pulled his gaze upward.
Rising above the rooftops was a colossal arena, its stone arches towering like the ribs of a giant beast. Banners whipped in the wind, each one emblazoned with the Academy's crest.
"Mama! Look!" Sumit pointed eagerly. "What is that place?!"
Ryvash followed his gaze, a faint smile tugging at his lips. That… is the stadium. Grand events are held there. Brave warriors come not to spill blood in hatred, but to prove their strength. It is tradition. A festival of valor.
Sumit's eyes widened even more "mama… have you fought there too?"
For a moment, shadows crossed Ryvash's face. Then, with a slow nod, he said, "Yes."
Sumit's excitement bubbled over. When? How? Did you win? Tell me everything!
Ryvash chuckled, resting a heavy but gentle hand on the boy's head. That tale I'll share another time—properly. For now, remember this: courage isn't about winning or losing. It's about standing tall, no matter what comes.
Before Sumit could ask more, Ryvash tapped the driver's shoulder. "Stop here."
The cart slowed, the oxen's hooves clopping against stone as they came to rest at the edge of the market. Ryvash paid the fare, and the driver nodded before steering away.
"From here, we walk," Ryvash said, straightening his cloak.
"Alright, let's go!" Sumit hopped down eagerly.
"Stay close," Ryvash warned.
"Okay!" Sumit grinned.
Together, they plunged into the market's heart. The streets were alive like a maze. A jeweler's stall glittered with gems that pulsed as if breathing. A weaponsmith hammered at a blade that glowed red-hot, sparks flying like fireflies. An herbalist ground glowing leaves into powder, filling the air with sharp minty fragrance. Children laughed, chasing wooden toys animated by minor enchantments.
Sumit's head spun in every direction, eyes wide. This wasn't the simple marketplace he'd imagined—it was alive, dazzling, and far beyond anything he'd ever seen.
Ryvash arched a brow, watching him with faint amusement. Have you had enough of staring around? Or shall we finally move on?
Sumit blinked, then jogged forward sheepishly. "Yeah, Uncle… let's go."
Together they pressed deeper until the towering Academy walls loomed before them. Tucked beside the main gates stood a quieter building—stone-built, plain, its only decoration the Academy crest carved above the arch. The quartermaster's office.
Inside, the noise of the streets faded. Quills scratched against parchment. Shelves stacked with uniforms lined the walls. Behind the reception desk, a man hunched low, rummaging through scrolls. Drawers slid open and shut. His muttered curses filled the air.
Ryvash's lips curled mischievously. What's the matter, brother? Won't you welcome us?
The man froze. At the sound of the voice, his head shot up—only to smack against the desk.
"Argh—dammit!" He winced, clutching his forehead, before glaring through watering eyes. You bastard! I knew it… it had to be you!
Before Sumit could react, the man lunged, grabbing Ryvash's collar. " Where the hell have you been all these years?! You vanish like smoke and not a single word—"
Ryvash only raised his hands in mock surrender, laughter spilling out. Alright, alright! Calm down. I'll explain everything… later. Like the old days.
The man's grip slackened. His lips twitched, caught between a scowl and a grin. "Hmph."
Only then did his gaze fall on Sumit and his expression softened "Is this… the one? Your sister's boy?"
"Yes," Ryvash replied simply.
Sumit's confusion showed on his face. Uncle… why did you tell him about me?
"Don't worry," Ryvash said lightly "He's on our side."
The man chuckled. I forgot to introduce myself, didn't I? My name is Darius. I was your father's friend. His partner.
The words struck hard. Sumit's breath caught. Slowly, he reached out to shake Darius's hand.
"I… I'm Sumit," he said quietly.
Darius grinned. Shy kid, huh? But you'll grow.
He led them upstairs, showing racks of uniforms marked with glowing symbols. He handed Sumit two.
Why do they look different? Sumit asked.
These uniforms reflect your power, aura, and awakening, Darius explained. They don't just cover you—they reveal you. But don't overthink it. You'll understand with time.He added, voice lower, And remember—some kids at the Academy won't accept an outsider. Stay alert.
Before Sumit could answer, Ryvash smacked Darius on the head. Ignore this guy. He never knew how to explain things.
Sumit laughed nervously and went downstairs to get the clothes packed.
In his absence, Darius grew serious. Ryvash… do you really believe the choice you've made for him is right?
Ryvash's gaze hardened. "Yes."
Darius studied him, then sighed Alright but Tomorrow, I'll come and we'll drink and talk like old times.
"Fine by me," Ryvash said, heading for the stairs.
"And if you ever think of rejoining the Special Forces… Darius's voice followed him. "Tell me. I'll follow.
Ryvash paused briefly, then gave a quiet nod.
A while later, he and Sumit left the office. Evening had already fallen, the streets glowing under lantern light.
"It's already evening," Sumit said"Weren't we supposed to look at the school too?"
Ryvash laughed. Tomorrow's your first day anyway. Right now, let's just get home—otherwise my sister will kill me.
He hailed a carriage, and soon they were seated, heading back.
Sumit pressed his cheek against the window, staring out. The sacred tree in the distance glowed faintly, its branches shining like veins of light. Lanterns floated overhead. Shops sparkled with warm colors. Everything looked magical.
Then his eyes caught something unusual. Across the road, another carriage had stopped. Unlike theirs, this one was elegant—its frame carved with intricate designs, wheels rimmed with polished metal, the horses clad in silk harnesses.
On the back seat, a girl sat quietly, her chin resting on her hand as she gazed outside. Her expression was tinged with melancholy, as though her thoughts weighed heavier than her age.
And then… her eyes lifted.
Blue. Shimmering like moonlight over deep water, threaded with silver glints. Eyes that held both sorrow and strength, like a secret he couldn't unravel.
For a heartbeat, the world stilled. The bustling streets, the creak of wheels, even the air itself—all faded.
Sumit's breath caught.
"Hey," Ryvash's voice broke in, amused. What's this? Planning to marry the window? Or are you just trying to hypnotize the streetlights?
Sumit jerked, blinking hard. He looked again—the carriage was gone. Only shadows remained.
He turned back to his uncle. We… we're already here?
"Yeah," Ryvash smirked. "Come on."
The carriage halted. Sumit stepped down, still lost in thought. His feet carried him home, but his mind lingered on those eyes. Even as Ryvash pushed open the door and warm light spilled out, Sumit glanced back into the dark street—half expecting to see her again.
But the road was empty.
And still… her eyes followed him inside.