For a moment, Aarav felt as if every particle of his existence had scattered. There was an ocean of light and sound in which he wasn't swimming, but had become a part of. He didn't see colors; he felt them. He didn't hear a melody; he became one. It wasn't frightening. It was strangely peaceful, like coming home. Like returning to the place where every story begins.
And then, just as quickly as the sensation had started, it ended.
With a jolt, he was back in his body. His ears popped, just like on an airplane. The still, cold water of the pond was now salty and lukewarm, like bathing in the ocean on a summer day. A brilliant sunlight he had never felt before shone on his closed eyelids—it didn't sting, but instead seemed to breathe new life into his body.
His lungs, in a desperate bid for survival, convulsed. He started coughing. Saltwater spewed from his mouth, and he took the deepest, most essential breath of his life.
He opened his eyes.
For a moment, he thought he was still dreaming.
The sky above him wasn't blue. It was a soft, turquoise color, like a precious stone. And in that turquoise sky hung not one, but two moons. They were thin, pale white crescents, as if someone had pasted two slivers of paper onto the heavens. The sun was somewhere behind him, its light soft and magical.
He was in a lagoon. A calm, small sea with water so clear he could see the shimmering white sand and colorful stones at the bottom. Around him grew strange, luminous trees with leaves that shone like silver. In the distance, there was a shore of white sand, and beyond it, half-crumbled ruins draped in green vines.
This was not his world. His city, his pond, Rohan... it all felt like it belonged to a different lifetime.
"He's awake," a voice said.
Aarav snapped his head in its direction.
Standing in the water, a short distance away, was a girl. She was walking towards him, her steps steady, as if she waded through these waters every day. She looked to be about eighteen or nineteen. Her hair... her hair seemed to be filled with light. It was long and a pale golden hue, but when the sunlight hit it, it glowed from within, like fiber optic cables. Her eyes were as deep blue as the ocean, and they held a strange serenity.
She wore simple, practical traveler's clothes, and at her waist hung a brass compass whose needle was spinning wildly.
"Easy," she said. Her voice was like music, but it had a strength to it. "Don't panic. You're safe."
Aarav wanted to say something, but only a cough escaped his throat. He still couldn't believe any of this. Was he dead? Was this heaven?
The girl came closer and extended her hand. "Take my hand. You're still weak."
Aarav hesitantly reached out. The moment his fingers touched her palm, he felt a faint jolt, like static electricity.
She helped him to his feet. Aarav's legs were still trembling.
As she was leading him to the shore, two other people who had been waiting there walked towards them.
One was a woman, perhaps in her mid-thirties. A large scar ran across her face, cutting just above one of her eyes, which gave her a perpetually sharp and alert gaze. She was dressed in tough leather, and a strange, steam-powered rifle was slung across her back. She looked like the captain of a sky-ship—stern, experienced, and not someone you could easily fool.
The other was a man, a few years older than Aarav. He was tall and lean, but every muscle in his body was corded like steel. He had dark hair and grave eyes. He stood in silence, his hands resting on the hilts of two swords strapped to his waist. His face was devoid of expression, like a stone statue.
"Found another one, Liora," the captain said. Her voice was heavy and rough. "The Tide always spits out something new."
The girl named Liora helped Aarav sit on the sand. "This one's different, Mara. The compass only went crazy when he appeared. That's never happened before."
Captain Mara narrowed her eyes, scanning Aarav from head to toe. "Looks ordinary enough. Just wet and scared."
Aarav heard their words, but he didn't understand a single one. They were speaking a language he had never heard.
Liora noticed. She knelt in front of Aarav. She took a small, glowing stone strung on a cord from around her neck and held it out to him.
"Wear this," she explained with a gesture. Her voice was still foreign to Aarav, but her eyes held a gentle compassion.
Hesitantly, Aarav took the stone. As soon as he touched it, it pulsed with a soft blue light. Liora smiled and gestured for him to put it on.
Aarav did as she indicated.
The moment the stone touched his skin, magic happened.
"Can you... understand me now?" Liora asked softly.
And this time, Aarav understood her perfectly. Every word, every meaning. He was stunned. He touched the stone hanging from his neck.
"What... what is this?" his voice came out weak.
"A Translation Locket," Liora explained. "It converts the speaker's intent into a language you can understand. And what you say, we will now understand."
The swordsman, who had been silent until now, stepped forward. "Who are you, boy? And how did you get here?" His voice was deep and calm, like the surface of a still lake.
Aarav looked at the three of them. Liora, her face full of hope. Mara, her face full of suspicion. And the swordsman, his face full of questions.
He took a deep breath. He had no choice but to tell the truth.
"My name is Aarav," he said. "I... I fell into a pond. And then... then there was a light... and now I'm here."
He expected them to laugh at him. Falling from a pond into another world? It sounded like a children's story.
But no one laughed.
Captain Mara looked at the swordsman. "Kael, did you hear that? A pond."
Kael nodded. "I heard. The Tide's portals have been known to open in strange places."
Liora looked at Aarav with her luminous eyes. There was pity in them, and understanding. "You've come a long way from home, Aarav."
Aarav nodded slowly. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He wouldn't appear weak anymore.
He stood up and looked around him—at the turquoise sky, the two moons, the silver-leafed trees, and the crumbling ruins. It was all real. This was not a dream.
He was truly in a new world.
Back where he came from, there was only a cage for him. A world where people knew him not for his actions, but for his face.
Here, to these people, he was nothing. Just a stranger who had emerged from the sea.
And perhaps, for the first time in his life, Aarav felt a strange sense of freedom in being a complete unknown. Here, he could become anything. Here, he wasn't Aarav Mehra, the "handsome boy."
Here, he was just Aarav. And that was a good place to start.