Morning sunlight filtered through the small hut, spilling over the wooden floor in golden streaks. The storm from the night before had passed, leaving behind only the damp scent of earth and pine. Yet, the memory of the Raksh-Wolf still clung to Prithvi like a shadow.
He sat cross-legged, tiny hands pressed together, tracing the faint warmth along his back where the sun-mark had glimmered. It had vanished now, leaving only a memory of light that had made the forest obey him, if only for a fleeting moment.
Aarav, ten and already tall for his age, leaned against the doorway. His dark eyes were a storm themselves — awe, unease… and just a pinch of jealousy. The older brother was meant to shield the younger, yet last night Prithvi had faced the beast alone.
"You… you actually stood in front of it?" Aarav's voice was low, almost incredulous. He tried not to let admiration slip through, but it trembled at the edges.
Prithvi shrugged, looking down at his small, calloused hands. "I… didn't know what else to do."
Aarav's lips pressed into a thin line, a mix of frustration and reluctant respect. "Lucky you, I guess. Maybe the forest likes you more than me."
Before Prithvi could answer, a burst of energy shattered the quiet. Meera, their mischievous five-year-old half-sister, bounded into the room, her hair flying in a tangle and eyes sparkling with mischief. She grabbed Prithvi's sleeve and tugged him toward the door.
"Prithvi! Come on, let's play hide-and-seek! I bet I can scare you before breakfast!" she squealed, darting around him like a leaf in the wind.
Prithvi frowned, caught between exasperation and amusement. "Not now, Meera… last night—"
"Last night was boring!" she interrupted, poking him lightly in the chest. "You faced a beast? Big deal! I want to see you face me!"
A reluctant smile tugged at Prithvi's lips. Despite the lingering fear gnawing at his chest, her playful challenge was impossible to resist. "Fine," he said, rising to his feet, brushing the sleep from his hair.
From the corner of the room, Amma watched them. She had raised both Prithvi and Meera from infancy, her hands shaping them, her lullabies weaving a bond deeper than blood. She brushed a damp strand of hair from Prithvi's forehead, her eyes soft yet sharp. "Courage alone isn't enough," she said gently. "Use it wisely. Protect each other, always."
Meera tugged harder, her small hand clutching his. Aarav groaned and stepped in front of them, arms folded, a protective barrier between chaos and calm. "Don't get too carried away, little brother. Remember, you still need guidance," he warned.
Prithvi glanced up, meeting Aarav's eyes. "I know," he said quietly. "But someone had to stand last night."
Aarav didn't reply, but the flicker in his gaze betrayed a mix of respect and lingering jealousy, like embers glowing beneath ash.
Outside, the forest whispered with the wind, shadows curling and stretching like living things. Somewhere, in the hidden depths, the Raksh-Wolf lingered, waiting. And beneath Prithvi's shirt, a quiet pulse throbbed — the sun-mark reminding him that this was only the beginning.
For now, he was simply a boy with a half-brother, a playful sister, and a strange power he barely understood. Somehow, for today, that was enough.