The world returned slowly, like the flicker of a dying flame reigniting. Maarun opened his eyes to the soft orange light of lanterns and the gentle scent of healing herbs. His body ached, especially his right shoulder, which was bandaged tightly. He lay on a firm mat inside the Agnigriha healing chamber, a quiet, stone-walled room filled with incense and silence.
A healer named Saumyācharya, draped in crimson robes embroidered with golden threads of flame, stepped toward him.
"You're awake," she said, her voice kind. "You did something reckless, foolish... and incredible."
Maarun tried to sit up but winced. She helped him gently.
"You dislocated your shoulder and suffered burns, but the internal fire... it's stabilizing. You're recovering faster than expected."
Before he could speak more, the door slid open with a soft creak.
Tejodhāra entered, silent as a shadow. He stood for a moment, then approached the bed and sat cross-legged beside Maarun.
"You created fire without Dviprakāsha," the head of Agnigriha said. "Through pain, instinct, and sheer will. That... is true flame."
Maarun lowered his gaze. "I almost lost."
"But you didn't," Tejodhāra replied. "And even if you had, it's not about victory. It's about refusing to die out."
He placed a hand on Maarun's good shoulder.
"You are now B1. Earn your stars."
Word of Maarun's battle spread like wildfire through the Gurukul.
Students from all houses whispered about the boy covered in blood and dust who defeated a B1-ranked fighter with nothing but his will and broken body. Some laughed it off as luck. Others saw a rising storm.
In a private chamber, the four house heads gathered briefly.
"Untrained, yet touched the core of flame," said Tejodhāra.
"A spark, nothing more," said Neeravāhni of Jalāgriha.
"Or maybe the fire that burns destiny," muttered Bhūmivedan of Bhūmigriha.
Only Vāyunetra of Vāyugriha said nothing. He simply looked out the window, watching the flags flutter.
Later that afternoon, Maarun heard excited voices down the corridor. The door to his ward opened, and in stumbled Dev, Roshan, and Rajyashrī, their eyes wide and grinning.
"You mad flame demon!" Dev burst out. "You exploded your way into history!"
"Are you even alive?" Roshan gawked. "We thought you vaporized both of you!"
Rajyashrī stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "That was reckless. But... impressive. Now everyone's watching you."
Maarun smiled faintly. "That's the scary part."
Then Dev leaned in and said, "Hey, Aksharā's match is next. Can you walk?"
Maarun's eyes lit up. "If my legs work, I'm coming."
Saumyācharya sighed. "If he walks slowly and leans on someone. Don't make me regret this."
Rajyashrī chuckled. "I'll drag him back if needed."
With Roshan supporting one side and Dev the other, Maarun stepped out of the infirmary. The pain in his shoulder was sharp, but his heart beat faster with anticipation.
Aksharā's battle was about to begin.
The world returned slowly, like the flicker of a dying flame reigniting. Maarun opened his eyes to the soft orange light of lanterns and the gentle scent of healing herbs. His body ached, especially his right shoulder, which was bandaged tightly. He lay on a firm mat inside the Agnigriha healing chamber, a quiet, stone-walled room filled with incense and silence.
A healer named Saumyācharya, draped in crimson robes embroidered with golden threads of flame, stepped toward him.
"You're awake," she said, her voice kind. "You did something reckless, foolish... and incredible."
Maarun tried to sit up but winced. She helped him gently.
"You dislocated your shoulder and suffered burns, but the internal fire... it's stabilizing. You're recovering faster than expected."
Before he could speak more, the door slid open with a soft creak.
Tejodhāra entered, silent as a shadow. He stood for a moment, then approached the bed and sat cross-legged beside Maarun.
"You created fire without Dviprakāsha," the head of Agnigriha said. "Through pain, instinct, and sheer will. That... is true flame."
Maarun lowered his gaze. "I almost lost."
"But you didn't," Tejodhāra replied. "And even if you had, it's not about victory. It's about refusing to die out."
He placed a hand on Maarun's good shoulder.
"You are now B1. Earn your stars."
Word of Maarun's battle spread like wildfire through the Gurukul.
Students from all houses whispered about the boy covered in blood and dust who defeated a B1-ranked fighter with nothing but his will and broken body. Some laughed it off as luck. Others saw a rising storm.
In a private chamber, the four house heads gathered briefly.
"Untrained, yet touched the core of flame," said Tejodhāra.
"A spark, nothing more," said Neeravāhni of Jalāgriha.
"Or maybe the fire that burns destiny," muttered Bhūmivedan of Bhūmigriha.
Only Vāyunetra of Vāyugriha said nothing. He simply looked out the window, watching the flags flutter.
Later that afternoon, Maarun heard excited voices down the corridor. The door to his ward opened, and in stumbled Dev, Roshan, and Rajyashrī, their eyes wide and grinning.
"You mad flame demon!" Dev burst out. "You exploded your way into history!"
"Are you even alive?" Roshan gawked. "We thought you vaporized both of you!"
Rajyashrī stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "That was reckless. But... impressive. Now everyone's watching you."
Maarun smiled faintly. "That's the scary part."
Then Dev leaned in and said, "Hey, Aksharā's match is next. Can you walk?"
Maarun's eyes lit up. "If my legs work, I'm coming."
Saumyācharya sighed. "If he walks slowly and leans on someone. Don't make me regret this."
Rajyashrī chuckled. "I'll drag him back if needed."
With Roshan supporting one side and Dev the other, Maarun stepped out of the infirmary. The pain in his shoulder was sharp, but his heart beat faster with anticipation.
Aksharā's battle was about to begin.
The world returned slowly, like the flicker of a dying flame reigniting. Maarun opened his eyes to the soft orange light of lanterns and the gentle scent of healing herbs. His body ached, especially his right shoulder, which was bandaged tightly. He lay on a firm mat inside the Agnigriha healing chamber, a quiet, stone-walled room filled with incense and silence.
A healer named Saumyācharya, draped in crimson robes embroidered with golden threads of flame, stepped toward him.
"You're awake," she said, her voice kind. "You did something reckless, foolish... and incredible."
Maarun tried to sit up but winced. She helped him gently.
"You dislocated your shoulder and suffered burns, but the internal fire... it's stabilizing. You're recovering faster than expected."
Before he could speak more, the door slid open with a soft creak.
Tejodhāra entered, silent as a shadow. He stood for a moment, then approached the bed and sat cross-legged beside Maarun.
"You created fire without Dviprakāsha," the head of Agnigriha said. "Through pain, instinct, and sheer will. That... is true flame."
Maarun lowered his gaze. "I almost lost."
"But you didn't," Tejodhāra replied. "And even if you had, it's not about victory. It's about refusing to die out."
He placed a hand on Maarun's good shoulder.
"You are now B1. Earn your stars."
Word of Maarun's battle spread like wildfire through the Gurukul.
Students from all houses whispered about the boy covered in blood and dust who defeated a B1-ranked fighter with nothing but his will and broken body. Some laughed it off as luck. Others saw a rising storm.
In a private chamber, the four house heads gathered briefly.
"Untrained, yet touched the core of flame," said Tejodhāra.
"A spark, nothing more," said Neeravāhni of Jalāgriha.
"Or maybe the fire that burns destiny," muttered Bhūmivedan of Bhūmigriha.
Only Vāyunetra of Vāyugriha said nothing. He simply looked out the window, watching the flags flutter.
Later that afternoon, Maarun heard excited voices down the corridor. The door to his ward opened, and in stumbled Dev, Roshan, and Rajyashrī, their eyes wide and grinning.
"You mad flame demon!" Dev burst out. "You exploded your way into history!"
"Are you even alive?" Roshan gawked. "We thought you vaporized both of you!"
Rajyashrī stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "That was reckless. But... impressive. Now everyone's watching you."
Maarun smiled faintly. "That's the scary part."
Then Dev leaned in and said, "Hey, Aksharā's match is next. Can you walk?"
Maarun's eyes lit up. "If my legs work, I'm coming."
Saumyācharya sighed. "If he walks slowly and leans on someone. Don't make me regret this."
Rajyashrī chuckled. "I'll drag him back if needed."
With Roshan supporting one side and Dev the other, Maarun stepped out of the infirmary. The pain in his shoulder was sharp, but his heart beat faster with anticipation.
Aksharā's battle was about to begin.