The moon hung low — a pale, silver eye watching over the sleeping city. Streets lay deserted, their lamps flickering like dying fireflies. Somewhere far away, a stray dog barked, breaking the stillness for a moment before the silence swallowed it whole again.
Inside his small room, Jaswant lay awake.
Sleep refused to come.
He turned to his side, staring at the faint line of light sneaking through the curtains — the reflection of the streetlamp outside. His mind refused to rest; it was alive with a thousand thoughts — some of hope, others of fear.
Tomorrow, he would stand among hundreds of others.
Tomorrow, his fate would be sealed.
He exhaled slowly and reached for the small pendant resting beside his pillow — a simple piece of metal shaped like a temple bell, dull from years of wear. His father had given it to him when he was six.
"Keep this close," his father had said. "When you're lost, let it remind you where you came from."
The pendant felt cool against his skin.
He closed his fist around it — and for a brief second, it pulsed.
Just once.
A faint warmth — so subtle he almost thought he imagined it.
Jaswant frowned, opening his palm. The pendant was still, lifeless, as it had always been.
Maybe it was just nerves.
Maybe not.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes.
The clock on the wall ticked past 2:13 a.m.
And then…
he heard something.
A sound so faint it could've been the wind — a whisper, soft and fragile, echoing inside his head.
"Awaken…"
Jaswant froze — His breath caught in his throat.
He looked around. The room was empty. The fan turned lazily above him, creaking with every rotation. The whisper came again — clearer this time, closer.
"Jaswant… awaken…"
The pendant on his palm flickered with a dim blue light.
For the first time, Jaswant's heart skipped a beat not from fear — but from something else.
Recognition — It wasn't just a voice.
It was calling him.
He stood slowly, eyes fixed on the glowing pendant. The air around him felt heavier, charged — as if invisible currents were beginning to move. The walls of the room seemed to blur, the air itself bending and trembling around him.
And then — the pendant cracked.
A tiny line of light shot out from it, slicing through the dark and striking the floor. The wooden surface beneath his feet rippled like water.
Before Jaswant could react, the light expanded — a circle forming beneath him, covered in strange, ancient symbols he'd never seen before.
The whisper turned into a roar.
The air grew wild.
And then — Everything went white.
Endless, blinding white.
Jaswant floated in nothingness — weightless, voiceless, breathless.
He couldn't feel the floor beneath him, nor the air around him. Only the echo of his heartbeat, thundering in his chest.
And then… the whisper returned.
Soft. Ancient. Endless.
"To awaken is to remember… what was never forgotten."
The words echoed like ripples across water.
He tried to speak, but no sound left his lips. Only light — blue, burning — spread from his chest, flowing into his arms and veins until his entire body glowed like living fire.
A vision unfolded before him —
a towering bell suspended in a storm of stars, its surface cracked yet radiant. Beneath it, a figure knelt — cloaked in flame, holding a symbol identical to the one on Jaswant's pendant.
When the bell rang, the sound shattered everything.
A sharp pain tore through him—
and the white world exploded into darkness.
---
Jaswant woke up gasping.
He sat upright on his bed, drenched in sweat. The faint glow of dawn crept through the window, painting the room in dull orange light. His heart hammered against his ribs as he looked around — everything was exactly as it had been. The table. The curtains. The quiet ticking clock.
Had it all been… a dream?
He glanced down — and froze.
At the center of his right palm was a faint symbol, glowing faintly beneath the skin: a small flame inside a circle. It pulsed softly — like a living heartbeat — before fading.
Jaswant's throat went dry.
His fingers trembled as he touched the mark.
It was real.
The pendant beside him lay cracked — a thin fracture running through its center, still faintly warm.
"What are you…?" he whispered.
For a long moment, he just stared at it — fear and wonder twined tightly in his chest. Then, outside, the temple bell tolled — one, two, three times — signaling dawn.
The day of the Awakening Ceremony had arrived.
Jaswant stood, washed his face, and tied the pendant's broken chain around his neck. His reflection in the mirror looked the same — yet something in his eyes had changed.
Something ancient… awake.
He stepped outside. The sky was still pale, painted in pink and gold. From across the city, he could already hear the faint hum of voices — hundreds of others gathering for the ceremony.
As he walked toward destiny, the faint warmth in his palm returned — subtle, steady, like a heartbeat whispering beneath the skin.
---
The city's heart pulsed with life.
By the time Jaswant reached the central plaza, the sun had climbed halfway above the horizon — spilling molten gold over the marble towers of Aureth Hall, the place where every young soul came to awaken their element.
From afar, the Hall looked less like a building and more like a living monument — massive pillars spiraling into the sky, carved with glowing runes that shifted like flowing water. Blue light veined through the stone, breathing with the rhythm of the crowd.
Thousands had gathered.
Some wore expressions of awe, some of fear, and others — quiet, simmering arrogance.
Jaswant slipped through the entrance gates, clutching the cracked pendant around his neck. The faint warmth from his palm still pulsed softly, though he tried to ignore it. Around him, energy hummed — sharp, invisible, electric.
The ceremony grounds stretched before him — a vast circular platform made of obsidian glass, suspended above a shimmering pool of light. At its center stood a tall obelisk covered in ancient marks, radiating silent power.
The Elders of Awakening stood around it — cloaked figures with eyes like stars, their presence alone commanding silence.
A deep, resonant bell tolled across the hall.
The air stilled.
The ceremony had begun.
---
"Welcome, children of the New Age," one of the Elders spoke, his voice echoing like thunder wrapped in silk.
"Today, the sleeping essence within you shall awaken. Your soul will call its element — and your destiny will answer."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Jaswant's heart thudded louder.
He could see others already stepping forward into the glowing circle one by one — each placing their hands on the obelisk.
Some erupted in flame.
Some were surrounded by swirling water.
Some glowed with wind, stone, or lightning.
And some… were left standing in silence — unchosen.
Jaswant clenched his fists.
And then — two figures caught his eye.
Standing on the opposite side of the hall, among the chosen candidates, were Vihaan and Laila.
Vihaan stood with his usual calm arrogance — tall, composed, his dark eyes reflecting the fire he had already awakened.
Beside him, Revati's presence was quieter, yet sharp — her aura shimmered faintly with violet light, her element unknown but clearly powerful.
Their eyes met for a brief second.
Vihaan's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.
Seeing this, Jaswant looked away.
---