Aryan stood there, frozen.
The moment he heard Tarun say that he had a family, his mind went completely blank. He couldn't think straight. He couldn't even breathe properly. It felt like the whole world had stopped moving. His legs felt heavy, his body stiff like a statue.
It might have been only a few seconds, but for Aryan, it felt like time itself had frozen.
Tarun shook his shoulder gently, bringing him back to his senses.
Aryan blinked rapidly and looked up at him with wide, trembling eyes. His voice shook as he spoke, "Uncle... is it true? Do I really have a family?"
Tarun slowly nodded.
Aryan's chest tightened. His emotions, buried deep inside for so long, suddenly came rushing out. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he stubbornly held them back.
"Then why...?!" Aryan's voice cracked as he shouted, "Why didn't you tell me before?! Why did I live like an orphan?! Where are my parents?! Why did they leave me alone?! Why, Uncle?! Just why?!"
His words spilled out in a mess, full of anger, sadness, and confusion. He didn't even know what he was saying anymore he just needed answers.
Tarun looked down for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking. "I don't know where they are, Aryan. You have to find them yourself. It's your journey."
He placed a hand on Aryan's shoulder and gave him a firm but gentle look. "All I can say is... your parents never wanted to abandon you. They love you. They cherish you. But... circumstances were against them. Things happened that they couldn't control."
Aryan clenched his fists tightly. The pain in his heart only grew.
He took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down, and asked again with a steadier voice, "Then... if you knew all this... why didn't you tell me before? Why now?"
Tarun met Aryan's eyes without hesitation. "Because your father asked me to give you something but only after you reached the academy," he explained.
Then, Tarun pulled out two items from his bag a book and something wrapped carefully in cloth.
Aryan stared at them curiously.
"What are these?" he asked.
Tarun handed the cloth-wrapped object to Aryan and said, "This sword was made especially for you by your father. And this book... I believe it's a cultivation method created just for you."
Aryan slowly unwrapped the cloth, revealing a black sword. It wasn't anything like the fancy swords he had imagined. It was simple — a plain black blade with a normal-looking grey sheath that had some faint patterns carved into it. No shining gems, no complicated designs. Still, the sword gave off a strange feeling, something deep and powerful hidden within its simplicity.
Then Aryan opened the book, only to find it completely blank.
His heart sank.
"It's blank!" he said, flipping through the pages in disbelief. "How am I supposed to read a blank book?"
Tarun looked equally surprised. "I never opened it myself... I thought from the outside it must be a cultivation book," he said, scratching his head awkwardly.
"Well, maybe it's a mystery left by your father. Something you are meant to figure out," he added.
He patted Aryan's shoulder again and said, "Don't think too much about it. When the right time comes, you'll understand everything. Be patient."
With those words, Tarun quietly left the room.
Aryan sat on the bed, feeling lost.
He stared at the sword and the blank book lying in front of him. His mind was full of questions. What kind of people were his parents?Were they really good, like Uncle Tarun said?If they loved him so much, then why did they leave him?Where were they now?Were they even alive?
No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't find any answers. It only made his heart ache more.
Letting out a long sigh, Aryan ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
After sitting in silence for a while, he decided to examine the sword more carefully.
He lifted the black sword in his hands. The metal felt cool and heavy. There were faint inscriptions carved into the blade, so light that they were almost invisible to the eye. Even though the sword looked plain, Aryan felt a strange connection to it, like it was calling out to him.
Curious, he decided to test the sharpness of the blade. Gently, he moved his finger across the edge but the moment he did, he felt a sharp sting. A small cut appeared on his finger, and a few drops of blood dripped out.
Aryan winced and pulled his hand back.
One of the blood drops landed on the open book.
And then, something unbelievable happened.
The book started glowing with a bright, golden light.
Aryan's eyes widened in shock.
"What... what's happening?!"
Just as Aryan reached out, the ancient book trembled violently in his hands.
Before he could react, a beam of blinding light erupted from its core, striking him squarely in the chest. His eyes widened in shock as the force lifted him effortlessly into the air, his body suspended several feet above the bed.
The room was drowned in brilliance. Light coiled around him like a divine serpent, encasing him in a glowing cocoon. The book floated open in midair, its pages flipping on their own as if guided by some unseen will.
From the blank parchment, ink bled into existence , symbols, runes, words in forgotten tongues. They burned with radiant energy, etching themselves into the paper and, more terrifyingly, into Aryan's mind.
It hurt.
A thousand voices screamed at once in his head memories not his own, techniques older than time, knowledge that no human mind was meant to contain. It surged into him like a tidal wave, crashing through every barrier in his consciousness.
His head felt like it would split apart.
Aryan's mouth opened, but no scream came out. Only silence.
His body trembled as the flood continued, veins glowing faintly under his skin. His limbs jerked, fingers twitching violently. The sensation was unbearable — as if his very soul was being rewritten.
Make it stop.
But it didn't.
And then
Everything went black.
With a lifeless thud, Aryan's body fell onto the bed. The light vanished in an instant, leaving only shadows and silence in its wake.
The book closed itself gently, drifting down beside him. The sword lay next to it, untouched — its dark blade pulsing faintly, like the beat of a hidden heart.
For a moment, all was still.
Then, ever so subtly, Aryan's fingers twitched.
Something deep within him had stirred. No... something ancient. Something forgotten.
And now, it was awake.