The main university hall stood filled.
Pupils of Guru Goalpara and Guru Sariputta assembled in two disciplined units, facing the grand podium.
No one spoke.
No one needed to.
They all knew the announcement was coming.
The Night of Awakening.
MayaShakti.
A faint echo of footsteps spread through the hall as the Head of the Chitta Clan—and Chair of the University—stepped onto the podium.
His presence alone straightened backs and stilled restless breaths.
He let the silence settle.
“As you all know,” he began, his steady voice carrying across the hall without effort, “today marks the completion of forty days of your first year.”
A pause.
“In five days, the new year begins.”
His gaze moved across the students.
“And forty-five days from then… under the full moon…”
He let the words hang for a moment.
“…you will awaken your MayaShakti.”
The words did not echo.
They sank.
“Your countdown begins.”
A subtle shift passed through the hall—small, but undeniable.
“All nobles present here who have already activated their elements will have an advantage.”
A few heads lifted slightly.
“But that does not excuse preparation.”
His tone hardened.
“Every one of you must refine your breath. Continuously. Relentlessly.”
A pause.
“If your breath fails during awakening…”
Another pause, longer this time.
“…you will not reach your full capacity.”
Silence.
“…if not death.”
The hall froze.
“…then something worse.”
No one moved.
“Insanity.”
A breath.
“Or social death.”
The words lingered.
“For a noble, social death is often more painful than dying.”
Now, even the nobles felt it.
The air had changed.
Nag Suyash stood still.
Too still.
This was his moment.
His only one.
Since his root element had awakened, expectations had followed.
But transformation had failed to follow.
Every day after that became quieter.
Not outside.
At home.
His father’s silence was heavier than words.
When words came, they cut deeper.
Disrespect toward his mother.
Toward his elder sister.
Though she had succeeded… transformed completely.
It didn’t matter.
She was a woman.
And that, to him, was failure.
Another woman had entered their home.
Another son had been born.
A replacement.
Suyash’s jaw tightened.
After a year and a half…
This was his last chance.
Karuna stood with her hands clasped, gaze forward, unmoving.
But inside, old voices stirred.
Sharp.
Repeating.
Doubt.
Guilt.
Accusation.
Her father’s words.
Her worth measured, reduced, questioned—again and again.
Her grip tightened.
She inhaled.
Slow.
Steady.
This time… I prove it.
Kairav didn’t shift.
Didn’t react.
But his eyes lowered slightly.
The mountains.
Rot wolves had attacked the herd.
He fought.
When it ended, Master had appeared.
Amused.
Curious.
Then came an offer.
Simple.
A stable, respectable life for his mother.
In return—him.
No deception.
No disguise.
Just a choice.
Kairav had made it.
Despite his mother’s protests.
Despite her fear.
He had stepped forward and surrendered.
Now, this was another step.
Not for power.
For her.
Surya Prince Arka Surya stood tall, unshaken.
This was expected.
Necessary.
He had no doubt he would rise.
He had to.
A Surya noble bowing to a queen without noble lineage—that was a stain.
One he intended to erase.
Bloodline mattered.
And he would restore it.
Garuda clan Prince Nikash Garuda stood quietly, eyes forward, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
On one man, who stood beside the Chair of University.
His uncle.
Royal Security Chief Sendrav Garuda.
Strength.
Reputation.
Legacy.
He didn’t want power.
He wanted to become that.
Different reasons.
Different paths.
Same destination.
Mayaveer.
They all knew what it meant.
Power.
Authority.
Recognition.
And cost.
The kind that demanded everything.
Preparation decided survival.
Failure decided the rest.
On this path, death was mercy.
Because what came after failure…was worse.
At night, in the Garuda Bhavan,
Sendrav stretched his arms high, loosening his muscles after a warm salt bath.
His body finally felt at ease.
After two months, he was home.
Indumati stepped in.
“Should I cook something for you?”
Sendrav looked at her and shook his head lightly.
“No. I’ll have dinner directly.”
She nodded and turned to leave.
“Indu…”
She stopped.
Sendrav walked toward her slowly and took her hand.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at him, surprised.
“I haven’t been able to give you and Aditi enough time,” he said, his voice lower than usual.
Indumati smiled, gentle and steady.
“You don’t have to apologize for doing your duty.”
A pause.
“Yes, there are times I miss you,” she admitted, stepping closer.
“But I also know that because of you… our daughter and I sleep peacefully every night.”
Something shifted in Sendrav’s expression.
Relief.
Perhaps even disbelief.
Her hand rested against his chest.
“Why should I complain,” she said softly, “when my husband is a man strong enough to protect and provide for us like this?”
They held each other’s gaze.
Warmth.
Respect.
“Indu…” Sendrav exhaled and pulled her into an embrace.
“I don’t know what to say… thank you.”
His eyes closed.
A tear slipped free.
Indumati’s hand moved gently over his arm.
“Father!!”
The moment broke.
A small figure came running into the room, clutching a soft toy.
Sendrav turned.
His face lit up instantly.
“Aditi! My sweet child!”
He lifted her into his arms as laughter filled the room.
A happy family.
After dinner, Sendrav walked through the backyard garden.
The night was calm.
The air cool.
For the first time in a while, his mind felt quiet.
“Hey, Uncle! When did you come?”
Nikash ran toward him and hugged him.
Sendrav smiled, patting his back.
“I’m good. How are you, young man?”
“I’m good, Uncle. Glad you’re back.”
Sendrav chuckled lightly.
“I thought you’d still be upset about not getting selected for the Royal Bounty Hunters.”
Nikash shook his head.
“I was… a little. But that just means I need to work harder.”
Sendrav nodded, approving.
“Uncle,” Nikash continued, his tone softer, “you raised me after my parents… I won’t let something like that come between us.”
Sendrav looked at him for a moment.
Then smiled.
“I’m proud of you.”
Nikash hesitated.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Is it true… Kairav fought you?”
“Yes.”
Nikash fell silent.
He had awakened his elemental core.
Yet standing against Sendrav still felt impossible.
But Kairav had done it— without any of that.
The thought unsettled him.
Sendrav watched him quietly before speaking.
“Nikash… how is he in class?”
Nikash blinked.
“Quiet. Doesn’t talk much. Answers when asked. But… he’s sharp. Very attentive.”
“And what do you make of that?”
Nikash thought.
But nothing came.
Sendrav smiled faintly.
“Self-control.”
Nikash frowned slightly, trying to connect the pieces.
“The reason he stood against me without MayaShakti or blood weapons,” Sendrav continued, “was because he doesn’t waste himself.”
A pause.
“He uses what he has… exactly where it matters.”
Nikash listened carefully.
“So, being quiet saves energy?”
“Not just quiet,” Sendrav corrected.
“Selective.”
He gestured lightly.
“You don’t need to act everywhere.”
A pause.
“You don’t need to respond to everything.”
He looked at Nikash.
“Choose where you invest yourself… and you’ll always have more left when it counts.”
Nikash nodded slowly.
“So… it’s not about holding back. It’s about choosing right.”
Sendrav nodded.
“Exactly.”
A brief silence followed.
“You should spend time with him,” Sendrav added.
“Train together. Spar. You’ll understand better that way.”
Nikash hesitated again.
But this time, it was lighter.
“Just don’t challenge him like a fool,” Sendrav said with a grin.
“Ask for practice.”
He gave Nikash a light pat on the shoulder.
“Build a group. Learn from each other. That’s the advantage of being in university.”
Nikash let out a breath and nodded.
“Alright… I’ll try. If that’s what it takes to improve.”
Sendrav patted his shoulder.
“That’s all it takes.”
They walked together through the garden, their conversation drifting into quieter things as the night settled around them.