Chapter 4: The Path of Ash and Ember

The embers of the dying fire cast long shadows across the rocky ground. The night was deep, and the mountains whispered with the cold wind, but Arin barely noticed.

Agnivarna sat across from him, silent now, his gaze fixed on the stars above.

Arin should have felt relieved.

The Rishi had made it clear—he would not force him to stay.

And yet, that very freedom felt like a weight on his chest.

It would have been easier if Agnivarna had commanded him. If he had said, "You will stay. You will learn."

But he had not.

Instead, he had simply told Arin the truth—that the path before him was vast, and once taken, it could never be undone.

That was the true burden.

Not knowing if he should walk it at all.

Arin glanced at the remnants of the food Agnivarna had given him. His hunger had been satisfied for the night, but what about tomorrow?

How many days had he spent before this, wandering the wilderness?

How many nights had he lain awake, staring at the sky, wondering if he would wake up the next morning at all?

Survive.

That had always been the only goal.

He had not sought power. He had not sought knowledge.

But now…

Now, there was something before him that was more than survival.

It was a path. A purpose.

A chance to understand.

But would it come at a cost?

"You are hesitating."

Agnivarna's voice was calm, but not indifferent.

Arin looked up sharply. "You said you wouldn't force me."

The Rishi exhaled, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"And I have not."

Arin scowled. "Then why are you watching me like that?"

Agnivarna's gaze did not waver.

"Because hesitation is still a choice."

Arin clenched his fists.

"What if I'm not meant to walk this path?" he asked.

Agnivarna raised an eyebrow. "And what path do you walk now?"

"…I don't know."

The words felt bitter on his tongue.

The Rishi studied him for a moment before reaching into the firepit.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he lifted a handful of ash.

"This is what remains when fire has passed," he murmured. "It is no longer flame. It is no longer heat. It is only a memory of what once was."

He let the ash slip between his fingers, scattering into the wind.

"If you leave now, you will continue as you are," he said. "Wandering, surviving, forgetting pieces of yourself with each passing day." His voice lowered. "Until you, too, are nothing but ash."

Arin swallowed.

He wanted to argue. To say that he had survived this long without guidance.

But deep down—he knew the truth.

He was already losing himself.

Agnivarna's voice softened.

"The choice is yours, boy. But do not mistake running for freedom."

Arin's breath caught.

The words struck something deep within him, something he did not want to acknowledge.

Was that what he had been doing all this time? Running?

Not just from others, but from himself?

He thought of the creature that had attacked him. The remnant of something that should not exist.

If Agnivarna had not been there, Arin would have died.

And for what?

For a life spent drifting between places that did not want him?

The realization felt like a weight on his chest.

Agnivarna was waiting.

Not pressuring. Not demanding.

But waiting.

And suddenly, Arin understood—

The Rishi had already seen the answer in him.

He just had to say it aloud.

Arin took a slow breath.

"…I will stay."

Agnivarna did not smile.

He only nodded, as if he had known all along.

"Then the fire will not consume you," he said. "It will forge you."

Arin exhaled.

Somewhere deep within, a door had been shut.

And somewhere beyond it—another had opened.

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