The Awakening: The Burden of Destiny

Vikram sat cross-legged, deep in meditation, surrounded by the many techniques he had learned. With each mantra and movement, he felt stronger, as if an unstoppable force was flowing through him. Just as he was about to open his eyes, he stopped.

In the back of his mind, he sensed a faint light that seemed untouched. It called to him, pulling him in.

"What is this?" Vikram murmured, feeling a mix of curiosity and unease as he focused on the light.

Suddenly, he found himself in a strange, beautiful garden. His heart raced as he looked around at glowing plants, oddly shaped animals, and a sky filled with colours he couldn't describe.

"Where am I?" he whispered, his voice shaky with awe and fear.

As he took careful steps forward, he felt a strange sense of dread gripping his chest despite the garden's beauty.

Then he spotted a young man standing calmly in the garden. Vikram froze, instinctively preparing for anything. But it was the man's eyes that truly unsettled him—eyes filled with wisdom and history, as if they had witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations.

"Who... who are you?" Vikram asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The young man smiled, a warm yet mysterious look on his face. "Finally, I meet you, my successor. My blood runs in you."

Vikram felt stunned. "Successor? Blood? What do you mean?"

The man stepped closer and placed a hand on Vikram's shoulder. A strange warmth flowed through him, but unease lingered. The man pulled back and sighed.

"You have that blood," he said simply.

Confused and anxious, Vikram felt a mix of emotions surge within him. "What are you talking about? Who are you? What does this that blood mean?"

The man chuckled softly, which didn't ease Vikram's tension. "I am Kulashekra Ramachandra Manavikrama Nambiathiri Thirumulpad," he said, each word heavy. "Or simply one of the Seven who fought against the Arab invasion in 1863. This is just a part of my soul, here to guide you."

Vikram was in shock. "The Seven?" he gasped. "You're one of them! I've read about you! you are my greatest inspiration."

"Son, what I am about to talk to you is very important. I don't have much time."

The old man continued, " I had broken through my realm to defeat the force of Arabian Magic Army, so I couldn't stay back anymore and I ascended. This place is crafted only to meet my successor one last time and entrust these words."

Vikram was shocked to know that his ancestor actually ascended to the other world, he wanted to ask him a lot of questions but he couldn't stop himself and said.

" I admire you more now"

The man's smile faded, replaced by sadness. "Son, more than admiration. It is about survival and you have that blood"

"That blood!" "Survival?" Vikram's heart raced with fear. "What does that mean? Am I… am I not human?"

The man looked at him gently. "No, Vikram. You are not an outsider. You belong to the oldest ruling bloodline on Earth. But there are truths about your heritage that you are not yet ready to know. They are connected to your father and a legacy beyond your understanding."

Vikram's breath caught in his throat. "What legacy? Please tell me!"

"I cannot," the man replied softly. "Not yet. But know this: the danger we faced in 1863 is nothing compared to what is coming. Only you can save us, and you must reach the height of the Emperor Realm."

Vikram's heart raced as he repeated, "The Emperor Realm?"

"Yes," the man said seriously. "There are three stages: Pradhama, Madhyama, and Uthama. You must ascend quickly. But training alone isn't enough. You must seek the 21 secrets."

Before Vikram could respond, 21 glowing lights appeared, swirling around him before merging into his forehead. He felt an overwhelming surge of power.

"These lights hold the keys," the man said. "Find even five of them, and we may be able to stop the coming danger."

Vikram felt a mix of fear, responsibility, and determination. "But… how do I start?"

The man's form began to fade. "That is for you to discover. I've given you all I can. The rest is up to you."

As the garden vanished, Vikram felt tears in his eyes. He wanted to ask more, but the man's final words echoed in his mind.

"Go, Vikram. Your strength and will are our only hope."

In an instant, he was back in his meditation. Breathing heavily, he clenched his fists, feeling a storm of emotions inside him.

I'm not ready for this… but I have no choice. I have to be.

With determination, he stood up, resolution burning brightly in his eyes. His journey was just beginning.