Aaryan remained still, his back pressed against the rough bark of the tree. His breathing had steadied, but the tension in his muscles refused to unwind. He listened—truly listened—for any sound of pursuit.

Nothing.

Just the rustling of leaves in the wind, the distant call of a night bird, the faint scent of damp earth.

He had escaped.

His shoulders sagged slightly. He was exhausted, but at least he wasn't being hunted anymore. His body ached, sweat clinging to his skin despite the cool air. Slowly, he turned his head, peering through the gaps in the branches. No movement. No shadows lurking in the distance.

It's fine. You're fine.

And yet, his pulse refused to settle.

Something felt wrong.

Aaryan exhaled through his nose, trying to shake the unease creeping up his spine. Maybe it was just the aftermath of the chase. The paranoia of being pursued. He had been running for what felt like an eternity—his mind was still catching up to the fact that it was over.

But the feeling didn't fade. If anything, it grew.

His fingers twitched against the bark. Slowly, carefully, he crouched down, pressing his palm into the cool dirt. Grounding himself.

Real. This is real.

He reached out, picking up a small rock and rolling it between his fingers. Rough. Cold. He dug his nails into his palm, feeling the sharp sting of skin. Real.

So why did he feel like he was still being watched?

A branch creaked above. His head snapped up. Just the wind.

His jaw clenched. He was overthinking this. He needed rest.

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Okay. It's fine. I'm just on edge after all that running."

A second breath. A shake of his shoulders. His heartbeat slowed slightly.

"No need to be paranoid. I'm just being jumpy."

He turned to leave—

—and froze.

His stomach twisted violently. His breath stalled.

The same rock he had just picked up lay at his feet again.

His stomach twisted violently. His breath stalled.

The same rock he had just picked up lay at his feet again.

His grip slackened, and the stone he had been holding slipped from his fingers. It hit the ground with a soft thud—right next to its twin.

A sharp twitch pulled at the corner of his eye.

No.

No, no, no.

His heartbeat pounded in his skull as he took a slow, cautious step back. His gaze darted to the trees. To the shadows. The air felt wrong. The wind had stopped. The leaves no longer rustled.

A deep, twisting dread curled around his ribs.

He never escaped.

"Oh, for the love of—" His breath hitched. His fingers curled into fists. "Not. Again."

Aaryan's breath came fast and shallow, his eyes locked onto the twin rocks at his feet. His fingers twitched, a muscle in his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

He never escaped.

A low, humourless chuckle escaped him, but it held no mirth. His chest tightened, a sharp heat rising from within. He was done. Done playing along. Done second-guessing himself. Done being some unseen force's test subject.

Then—he snapped.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME? AGAIN?!" His voice exploded through the trees, shattering the silence like a crack of thunder. He bent down, grabbed the rock, and with all the force of his frustration, hurled it into the darkness. It struck a tree with a dull thunk before dropping to the ground like an afterthought.

His blood boiled. He kicked at the dirt, sending a spray of leaves and dust scattering. "Is this a joke to you?! Is this supposed to break me?!" His voice cracked from sheer exasperation.

The forest remained eerily still.

Aaryan exhaled sharply, his fingers raking through his hair. His pulse pounded in his skull. He was not playing this game again.

He threw his arms up, glaring at the sky. "At least put in some effort! I've seen better illusions from drunk street magicians!"

Nothing.

"What's next? You'll make me see my long-lost parents begging for my forgiveness? Oh wait, that'd actually be creative."

The wind stilled. The trees seemed to hold their breath.

Then—laughter.

Not human. Not natural.

It was deep, layered—like multiple voices speaking at once, harmonizing yet discordant. The sound slithered through the air, into his ears, wrapping around his thoughts like unseen tendrils.

Aaryan froze, muscles locking in place. His irritation flickered, momentarily giving way to something colder.

A voice—rich, regal, and steeped in amusement—slid into his mind.

"How dare you mock my divine illusions, Human?"

Aaryan exhaled through his nose, forcing down the brief instinctual shiver crawling up his spine. So it speaks.

He crossed his arms, glaring into the darkness. "Oh, so now you decide to talk." His voice was dry, but beneath it, his senses sharpened. If the thing behind this illusion was finally revealing itself, it meant he was closer to understanding what he was dealing with.

A chuckle—low, indulgent.

"You amuse me."

"Fantastic," Aaryan muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. "Glad someone's having fun." He rolled his shoulders, stepping forward as if challenging the very air around him. "Now, do you mind letting me go, or are we doing this all night?"

Silence.

Then—the air shifted.

The trees trembled, their shapes twisting unnaturally, as if reality itself was melting. Shadows lengthened, curling inward, swallowing the world in ink. The ground beneath his feet felt suddenly unsteady, the texture of the soil morphing into something unrecognizable.

Aaryan inhaled deeply, centring himself. This time, he wouldn't be fooled.

This time, he was ready.

Aaryan barely had time to brace himself before the illusion deepened. The air around him shimmered, thick with an unseen force, and just as he steadied his breath—

A voice.

Soft. Affectionate. Embarrassingly affectionate.

"Oh, my sweet, delicate flower," someone cooed from the trees. "Your beauty outshines the moon itself… How is it that fate has brought us together on this lonely night?"

Aaryan's entire body stiffened. His head snapped toward the sound.

There, not ten steps away, a disciple—one of the search party—was crouched down, gazing at something with absolute reverence. His expression was sickeningly tender, his eyes shining with the sincerity of a love-struck fool.

Aaryan followed the man's gaze, half-dreading what he was about to see.

A rock.

A rock.

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A perfectly average, moss-covered, slightly misshapen rock.

Aaryan stared. Blinked. Stared harder.

"Your warmth fills the void in my heart," the disciple whispered, eyes glistening. "Have you been waiting for me all this time?"

"No way." His voice was flat, hollow. He glanced at the sky, as if some cosmic force would confirm what he was seeing. "This can't be happening."

But it was.

The disciple caressed the rock, fingers trailing over its rough surface with the care of a man holding the love of his life. His lips curled into a soft smile. "Oh, my love, your skin is so smooth, so perfect… I could spend eternity by your side."

Aaryan flinched as if physically struck. His mind reeled. Was this man—was he actually flirting with a rock?

A deep chuckle slithered through the air, brushing against Aaryan's thoughts like silk-draped claws.

"You question my illusions, human?"

Aaryan closed his eyes. Counted to three. Opened them again. The idiot was still whispering to the rock.

He exhaled sharply, turning toward the unseen voice. "Alright. Fine. I get it. You're skilled." He gestured wildly at the disciple. "But this? This is beyond dangerous."

The voice purred, thick with amusement. "Oh? But he looks so happy. Would you deny him this bliss?"

Aaryan felt a headache forming. "He's in love with a moss-covered piece of dirt."

"And?"

Aaryan's jaw tightened. He had no answer for that. He turned back toward the disciple, watching in quiet horror as the man pressed his forehead to the rock.

"You are too good to be real," the disciple whispered.

Aaryan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh, for—You know what? If this is what you use your power for, I take back everything I said." He flung his arms up. "Your illusions are too good! This is a public safety issue!"

The dragon's laughter wrapped around him, rich and satisfied. "You are most amusing, little human."

If your next trick involves someone proposing to a tree, I'm leaving.

Aaryan groaned. He had a very bad feeling about what was coming next.

Aaryan exhaled sharply, forcing himself to shake off the absurdity of the rock incident. His focus snapped back to the unseen presence, his stance shifting as frustration crept into his voice.

"Alright, enough playing around." He scanned the trees, searching for any sign of movement, but the presence remained elusive. "What do you actually want from me?"

Silence.

He tilted his head slightly, testing the silence. "No sharp remark? No cryptic insult?" He took another step forward. "Strange. You had plenty to say a moment ago."

The air remained still, but Aaryan caught something—an absence, a hesitation just beneath the surface. His grin widened.

"Wait a minute…" He narrowed his eyes. "You're hesitating. Why?"

Silence.

Aaryan's mind worked quickly. The dragon had been quick to mock him before—but now? It was holding back.

He tilted his head, watching the stillness around him. "I must have hit a nerve." Nothing.

Aaryan exhaled, then took a calculated risk. "You know, for something so ancient and powerful, you're awfully quiet all of a sudden."

Still no answer.

His smirk deepened. "Could it be that you need something from me?"

A faint shift, barely perceptible. Like something recoiling.

That was all the confirmation he needed.

Aaryan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "But your pride won't let you admit it, huh?"

He paused, then grinned. "Fine. Let's try this: 'Oh great and powerful Aaryan, I humbly request your—'" A deep growl cut through the clearing, sharp and indignant.

"You overestimate yourself, mortal." The voice was back to its usual sharpness, but there was something beneath it. Strain? Irritation?

Aaryan raised an eyebrow. "Do I?" He gestured around. "Because from where I'm standing, you're the one lurking in the shadows, playing mind games instead of saying what you really want."

The air around him seemed to tighten, the pressure shifting ever so slightly.

"You mock shadows you cannot grasp," the voice said, but the usual amusement had dulled. It was quieter. Slower.

"… Time has gnawed at me, as it does all things. I have endured… but not without cost.."

Aaryan frowned. He hadn't expected that.

The voice continued, words carrying an ancient weight. " I am bound to this place, shackled by what remains of my strength."

Aaryan processed that carefully. This thing wasn't just toying with him. It was stuck in some way. Weak, maybe? That was the best guess he had.

Still, something didn't add up.

"You're saying you need me," Aaryan said slowly. "But why? What could I possibly do for something like you?"

The voice remained silent.

Aaryan waited.

Nothing.

He exhaled, shaking his head. "Figures. Cryptic until the end."

A faint chuckle slithered through the air. "You are impatient."

Aaryan rolled his eyes. "No, I just don't like being strung along."

Silence stretched between them again, heavier this time. Aaryan knew this wasn't over. He wasn't sure what he'd gotten himself into—but whatever it was, he had a feeling it was far from simple.

The voice hesitated, then exhaled—a sound that rumbled through the air like a dying ember struggling to burn.

"There is… something you must do."

Aaryan tensed, his instincts sharpening. "Must?" he echoed. "That's a strong word."

A pause. The air felt heavier, charged with something unspoken.

"You wish to carve your own path, do you not?" The voice was quieter now, strained.

"You do not bow to fate—you fight it. And so I offer you an opportunity. One that will decide more than just your future."

Aaryan's fingers curled slightly. He didn't like the way that sounded. " Strange. You talk about shaping fate, yet you sound like someone trapped by it."

Another pause. Then, finally, the words came, slow and deliberate.

"You will take care of the last… of my kind."

Aaryan's breath stilled. The weight of the words pressed against him, heavy, suffocating. The last of my kind.

For the first time, the dragon's voice wasn't sharp, wasn't amused—it was something else entirely. Something close to… pain.

Aaryan exhaled slowly, his fingers twitching at his side. "And what exactly… does that mean for me?".

A faint glimmer—like the shimmer of heat over stone—flickered before him. Then, without warning, a radiant object materialized in the air, drifting toward him in slow, deliberate motion.

Aaryan caught it instinctively.

The scale was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was no ordinary fragment of a creature's hide—this thing shifted, its surface pulsing with iridescent hues, a seamless blend of deep blues, molten golds, and ember-like reds. Holding it felt like gripping a piece of living fire, yet it didn't burn.

A low, measured voice broke the silence.

"Take it. My last gift."

Aaryan turned the scale between his fingers, watching the colors ripple like trapped flames beneath the surface. His lips quirked. "Generous of you. What is it?"

"A fragment of my essence. This is my unique flame."

The words hummed through the air, weighty with meaning.

"When you reach Mahima stage, it will awaken. You will inherit fire affinity."

Aaryan raised an eyebrow. Mahima stage. That was a long way off. He had barely scratched the surface of cultivation, and this thing was promising power in the future?

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "So let me get this straight," he mused, tossing the scale lightly before catching it again. "I get a pet dragon and free power? Not bad."

A deep, exasperated sigh rumbled through the clearing.

"You assume much, mortal."

Aaryan smirked. "You gave me the scale. What did you think was gonna happen?"

A pause. Then, faintly—almost imperceptible—a sound. Not quite a growl, not quite amusement.

Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the presence began to fade.

Aaryan felt it—the weight in the air shifting, thinning.

He frowned, grip tightening around the scale. "Hey—"

The presence in the air shifted—not the mocking, oppressive force he had sensed before, but something deeper, something old. The trees trembled at the edges of his vision, their forms flickering between reality and illusion.

And then—

A figure stepped forward.

A man. Or something close enough.

His robes shimmered as if woven from the night sky itself, embroidered with faint, shifting hues that hinted at something far grander beneath the surface. His face was sharp, regal, but lined with exhaustion, and his eyes—deep pools of gold—held the weight of centuries.

Aaryan didn't move.

"…So, you do have a face," he muttered, though the usual sharpness in his tone felt dulled.

The old man chuckled, low and knowing. "A face is a fleeting thing, human. A vessel, no more permanent than the waves upon a shore."

Aaryan narrowed his eyes. "And what happens when the tide pulls back?"

The man—the dragon—smiled, but there was something tired in it. Something final.

"Then it is time for the ocean to reclaim me."

And with that, his form began to unravel.

Aaryan's breath hitched.

A moment passed. Aaryan swore the world itself held its breath.

Then—light bled from the edges of the man's figure, golden threads unravelling from his very being. His flesh fractured like delicate glass, and as the pieces fell, something immense stirred beneath the surface.

A low hum filled the clearing, reverberating through Aaryan's bones. The dissolving form expanded, stretched, shifted—and in the space between breaths, reality itself seemed to tremble.

Then—he saw it.

A dragon.

No—the dragon.

His scales shimmered with a brilliance that defied nature, shifting between nine impossible colours, each hue twisting and refracting like living light. His body was vast, coiling through the air with a grace that belied his sheer size. The earth beneath Aaryan's feet trembled as massive claws touched the ground, each movement filled with both power and inevitability.

Aaryan should have stepped back. He should have run. But he couldn't.

Because in those eyes—those endless, golden eyes—he saw something he hadn't expected.

Loneliness.

Regret.

Hope.

The great dragon lowered his head slightly, his immense gaze locking onto Aaryan's own. The pressure in the air was suffocating, yet there was no malice, no arrogance. Only understanding.

And then, the dragon spoke—not in words, but in something deeper, something that echoed in the marrow of Aaryan's bones.

"This is not an end, but a beginning."

The dragon exhaled one last time, his immense body seeming lighter than air. "It has been… so long."

Aaryan blinked. Was that relief in his voice?

The dragon's form shattered. Not into dust, not into smoke—but into light.

Brilliant, cascading light. It spiralled upward, folding into itself, collapsing into a single point—a shape, small and fragile, resting in the centre of the clearing.

An egg.

It pulsed once, faintly, with the last remnants of a dragon's dying breath.

Aaryan stood frozen, staring at it.

His mind had no answer for what had just happened. No plan. No instinct.

Just silence.

And then, in his mind—one final whisper.

"Carry my last ember well, mortal."

The night swallowed the light whole.

Everything was eerily silent.

The dragon's light had faded, leaving behind only the cool night air and the small, pulsing egg nestled in the dirt before him.

Aaryan stared at it.

He should be running through a list of questions—what just happened? What was he supposed to do with this? Why did this keep happening to him?

But at this moment, all he could do was exhale slowly and rub a hand down his face.

"…Of course it's an egg."

Because why wouldn't it be?

Aaryan stared at the egg. Then at his hands. Then at the empty spot where the dragon had been.

"No."

Silence.

Aaryan sighed, rubbing his temples. "Why does this keep happening to me?" Grumbling under his breath, he crouched down, carefully inspecting the egg.

It was unlike anything he'd ever seen—smooth, yet the surface shifted faintly, almost like liquid trapped beneath glass. The colours within swirled in mesmerizing patterns, deep and endless, as if trying to mimic the lost radiance of the dragon himself.

It was… beautiful.

And also probably a problem.

He reached out, hesitating for just a breath before carefully picking it up. Warm. Not quite like a living thing, but not lifeless either. A faint pulse thrummed against his fingertips, like something deep within was still breathing, still waiting.

Aaryan frowned. Then, shaking his head, he carefully tucked the egg into his bag, wrapping it with cloth to keep it secure.

No point in leaving it behind.

As he adjusted the straps, a whisper—faint as a dying ember—brushed against his thoughts.

"Fear not. None shall see it unless it wills it so… and my will's last fragment still remains till the egg hatches."

Aaryan stilled.

He slowly glanced down at the bag, expression unreadable.

"…Great. So now I'm carrying around an invisible dragon egg." He let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I swear, my life just keeps getting weirder."

And with that, he turned, walking away from the clearing—never once looking back.

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