BOOOOOOMMMMM!!!
Flames burst upward, tearing the sky apart in a column of light and heat. The shockwave rolled across the valley. Trees bent. Stones cracked. The air itself screamed.
Aishwarya stood frozen—eyes wide, breath stolen from her lungs.
The explosion's glow painted her face in crimson light.
In front of her stood Lioran, his body trembling, his arms stretched forward. Golden symbols burned in the air before him—a Prāṇa Sigil, pulsating violently as it held back the inferno that sought to consume them both.
WHUUUUMMMM!!!
The sigil flickered.
"Lioran!" she shouted.
He didn't turn.
CRACK… CRACK…
The sigil fractured like breaking glass.
KRAAAAAAASH!!!
The barrier shattered.
The full force of the explosion hit them—heat, shock, flame—all merging into a storm of destruction.
They were thrown backward, their bodies tossed as the mountain ridge gave way beneath them.
The world turned upside down.
For a heartbeat, all Aishwarya saw was fire and sky.
Then—the fall.
WHOOOOOOSH!!!
Wind tore at her face. She reached out desperately, her fingers brushing against Lioran's hand as his body spun away, unconscious.
"Lioran!" she screamed, lunging through the air. Somehow, she caught him and they plunged into the forest below.
CRAAAAAASHHHH!!!
Branches shattered. Leaves exploded around them.
They slammed into the wet earth with a sickening THUD!
For a long moment, there was only silence. Then came the faint hiss of rain.
Far above, on a rocky cliff overlooking the smoking ruin, Bheem and his men watched in grim silence.
"They are gone," one of them said, crossing his arms. "No one could survive that."
Bheem's gaze stayed fixed on the glowing crater far below. The flames still danced in the rain.
"Where are you going, leader?" another asked as Bheem turned away.
"You all return," he said, voice deep and calm. "I'll check myself. If they're alive… I'll kill them."
The others exchanged uneasy looks as Bheem walked into the storm.
Rain began to fall—soft at first, then heavier, soaking the forest in sheets of silver.
Deep within the woods, Aishwarya stumbled through the mud, Lioran's unconscious body slung across her back.
Her steps were heavy, her breath ragged.
"Idiot," she muttered under her breath. "He really thought he could stop that missile with his bare hands?"
Her mind replayed the moment—the way he'd stepped in front of her, raising his sigil to block her own flaming attack so the explosion wouldn't hit her.
The rain thickened. Her clothes clung to her skin, her hair plastered against her face. Thunder rolled across the valley.
"I forgot," she groaned, "how fast the mountain weather changes."
Her eyes darted through the darkness until she spotted a rocky overhang—a cave hidden by vines. She hurried toward it, nearly slipping in the mud.
Inside, it was dry and dim. She gently laid Lioran down, brushing the wet hair from his forehead.
His face was pale. His breathing shallow.
Aishwarya tore open his shirt, and what she saw made her heart twist.
His stomach was burned—red and blistered, the mark of her own flame punch.
His hands were worse—charred, cracked, fingers stiff and trembling even in unconsciousness.
She swallowed hard. "Your stomach's burned because of me," she murmured. "And your hands… they took the full force when your sigil broke."
She touched his wrist lightly; he didn't flinch.
"Fractured bones… burned flesh… idiot, you nearly destroyed yourself."
Aishwarya sat beside him, arms wrapped around her knees, watching the flickering light from the cave's entrance.
"I need to restore my Prāṇa before I can carry him back to the ashram," she said softly. Then, after a pause, her eyes lowered to his face. "But… why did he save me? Even after I attacked him?"
Her words echoed faintly through the cave, swallowed by the rain outside.
"If he saw that missile coming… he could've run," she whispered. "Why didn't he?"
There was no reply.
Then—
"…Because I can't run."
Her heart skipped.
She turned sharply.
Lioran's eyes were half-open, faint light flickering in their depths.
"You're awake!" she gasped.
"Yeah," he said weakly, his voice hoarse. "But… can't move much."
She scowled. "It's your fault. You should've left me."
"How could I?" he whispered. "You were in danger."
"You could've died!" she shot back. "You almost did! Your stomach's burned, your bones are broken—what did saving me achieve?"
Lioran smiled faintly. "So what?"
Aishwarya froze. "What?"
"So what if I'm injured?" His gaze softened. "I'm happy I kept my promise. I'm happy my power could protect someone. I'm happy… that I saved a friend."
Her breath caught.
"Friend?" she repeated, almost incredulous. "Who? Me?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
She stared at him, thunder rumbling in the distance. "You fool," she said quietly. "How can you call me your friend? I treated you like an enemy. I insulted you. I hit you. I burned you. I even tried to humiliate you in training… and you still—"
"It doesn't matter," he interrupted gently. "Everyone has reasons for what they do. You have yours. But I don't need to know them to care."
Her lips trembled, anger and confusion twisting inside her. "Why?" she demanded. "Why would you even care about someone who hates you?"
Lioran's smile was faint but unwavering. "Because I can see it—you have goodness in your heart. You're not cruel, Aishwarya. You're just… carrying pain."
His words pierced deeper than she expected. She turned away sharply, hugging her knees.
Silence settled—broken only by the crackling of the small fire she finally lit using her flame Prāṇa.
The orange glow painted the cave walls. The rain outside softened to a steady rhythm.
Aishwarya stared into the fire. For a long while, she said nothing.
Then quietly, "When I was a child… I wanted to be a Prāṇa Warrior. A great one. The kind who could protect people, save them."
Lioran listened in silence, his eyes fixed on her profile—soft in the flickering light.
"My parents weren't warriors," she continued. "They worked for the Prāṇa Bureau research center. They built tools and weapons, and studied energy flows. But they couldn't fight. The only warrior in my family was my grandfather."
Her voice softened. "Shourya."
Lioran's eyes widened slightly.
"I begged him to teach me but he was always busy teaching his students.," she said, a faint, nostalgic smile touching her lips.
Flashback
A young girl about 8 years old ran through a sun-lit courtyard, holding a wooden stick like a sword. "Grandpa! Teach me how to use Prāṇa!"
Shourya, older but still powerful, smiled gently. "Sorry, my doll. I'm busy today. Maybe later."
"But you always say that!" she pouted.
He smiled softly and turned back to his students.
Back to Present
"No matter how many times I asked, it was always the same," she said quietly. "He was too busy with his students."
Lioran saw the faint sadness flicker in her eyes.
"I never complained," she went on. "I knew he was important. But when I turned fourteen… everything changed."
Flashback
The same courtyard, quieter now.
Aishwarya stood before her grandfather, who packed away scrolls and blades.
"Grandpa," she said softly, "your students have all graduated. Now you're free, right? So please… teach me. Teach me how to be a warrior."
Shourya didn't answer. He simply turned toward the ashram gates.
"Wait, grandpa!" she cried, grabbing his sleeve. "You promised me! Why won't you teach me now?"
He stopped, his voice low. "Sorry, my doll. I've retired. I'm done teaching."
Her world broke.
Tears filled her eyes as she stepped back.
"I… I hate you, grandpa!"
She ran from the courtyard, sobbing.
Present
Aishwarya's voice trembled as the memory faded. "That day, something inside me cracked. I stopped believing in him… and in myself."
She looked at the fire, her reflection dancing in the flames.
"After that, I joined the Prāṇa Academy," she said. "Studied day and night. I wanted to prove I didn't need anyone. But one day I learned the truth—why he stopped teaching."
Lioran blinked. "Why?"
Her voice grew softer. "He retired because he failed to achieve his dream."
"Dream?" Lioran asked.
Aishwarya nodded slowly. "He had only one. To train the heir of Vaelion."
Lioran's breath caught. "Vaelion's… heir?"
TO BE CONTINUED…