The astrologer's footsteps echoed across the Great Hall's polished stone floor, each one landing with the kind of weight that said *I know I'm important, and I want everyone else to know it too.*
He stopped before the dais, turned, and bowed slightly to Lady Ishvari and Lord Varundar. "My lords of Darsha," he said in a voice that carried without effort, "shall we begin?"
Varundar inclined his head. "We are ready."
Ishvari gave the faintest of nods, but her eyes stayed fixed on Sharath, as if silently warning him to behave.
Behave? Lady, I'm a baby. My options are 'adorable,' 'inconvenient,' and 'accidentally set something on fire.' There is no middle ground.
---
## The Star Lens
The astrologer removed the shimmering disc from his back — the Star Lens — and set it in a silver frame atop the dais. At once, the opalescent glass began to swirl with colors: deep violets, electric blues, golds that shimmered like molten metal.
The hum in the air intensified. Sharath felt it in his teeth — or at least in the gums where his teeth would eventually be.
The astrologer approached the cradle, his eyes sharp despite his age. "Bring him forward."
Vinya, looking more nervous than Sharath had ever seen her, lifted him from the cradle. "Easy, little master," she whispered, as if the wrong movement might detonate him.
She carried him up the dais and placed him gently on a cushion before the Star Lens.
---
## The Reading Begins
The astrologer took a small vial from his robes and poured a drop of shimmering liquid onto the center of the Lens. The colors flared. Then he lifted the Lens over Sharath's chest.
It was like being plugged into the internet for the first time — and then having the internet scream your search history back at you.
Images exploded into Sharath's mind: swirling galaxies, towers of crystal, storms over oceans he'd never seen. Symbols formed and dissolved — some like mathematical equations, others like living runes. He saw flashes of his old life: computer screens, glowing lines of code, Madhu's face lit by lab light. And over all of it, a strange, pulsing symbol that looked disturbingly like a Wi-Fi icon.
Oh great. I'm branded for life.
The astrologer's eyes widened. He leaned closer, watching the Lens as if it might bite him. "This soul… it is not new."
Gasps rippled through the hall. Ishvari stiffened. Varundar's brow furrowed.
---
## The Pronouncement
"But it is strong," the astrologer continued, voice rising. "Strong, full of light, and—" he hesitated, "—full of riddles."
He straightened, letting the tension build. Then he raised one arm dramatically.
"This child shall be named—" he paused for maximum effect, "—Sharath Virayan Darsha!"
There was a beat of stunned silence. Then:
"…Wait," someone in the back said, "did he say Sharath?" "Isn't that his father's cousin's name?" "Does this mean I lose the bet?"
The murmurs turned to groans from the betting crowd.
Meanwhile, Sharath was still mentally reeling. My name is Sharath. Again. In another world. What are the odds? Either cosmic irony is real, or the reincarnation bureaucracy is lazy.
---
## The Meaning
The astrologer, apparently oblivious to the betting fiasco, continued solemnly. "Sharath: he who sees beyond illusion. Virayan: carrier of light. Darsha: one who uncovers the hidden."
Oh, buddy. You have no idea how on the nose that is.
The nobles applauded politely. The musicians struck up a triumphant tune. Servants began pouring wine and carrying in trays of delicacies. The formal part of the ceremony was over.
For everyone else, anyway.
---
## The Pendant
A young page stepped forward carrying a small wooden box. He knelt and presented it to Ishvari, who opened it to reveal a pendant: a disc of pale metal etched with intricate runes, hanging from a fine chain.
She fastened it gently around Sharath's neck, her fingers lingering on the metal. "For protection," she murmured. "Always."
The moment the pendant touched his skin, it pulsed with a faint blue glow — subtle, but unmistakable. Ishvari's eyes flicked to Varundar's, but neither said anything.
---
## The Watcher in the Forest
Later, when the hall had emptied and the sun was dipping low, Sharath was returned to his cradle in the nursery. Vinya closed the shutters halfway, humming softly as she tidied the room.
But Sharath wasn't sleepy. The pendant was warm against his chest. He could *feel* it — not just as an object, but as a quiet hum in his mind.
Almost without meaning to, he turned his gaze toward the window.
Beyond the courtyard walls, past the tilled fields, the forest loomed in shadow. And there — between two ancient trees — something stood. Large. Motionless. Watching.
He couldn't make out details, but its eyes — or at least, where its eyes should have been — glowed faintly in the fading light.
The pendant flared once more, brighter this time.
Not yet, the same thought echoed in his mind. But soon.
Sharath let out a tiny sigh — which, as a baby, sounded more like a contented coo — and closed his eyes.
---
Welcome to your second life, Sharath Virayan Darsha. Magic, mystery, politics, and something big lurking in the trees. No pressure.
---