CHAPTER 7— the weight of destiny

The inside of the house was breathtaking, a harmonious blend of wood and gold that spoke of elegance and power. The walls of the main hall were adorned with exquisite paintings, each depicting various legendary figures. One in particular caught my eye—a woman with her back turned, wielding a beautiful sword. She looked ethereal, almost like a goddess frozen in time, and I felt an inexplicable pull toward her image. Just as I reached out to touch the painting, Miss Veena's voice broke through my reverie.

"Mira, the Grandmaster is waiting for you."

My heart raced as I followed her deeper into the house, each step echoing with a mix of anticipation and dread. As we approached the room where the Grandmaster awaited, an overwhelming pressure began to envelop me, growing heavier with every inch closer I got. The air turned thick, swirling with an energy I had never felt before. My stomach churned, and I stumbled slightly, struggling to steady myself.

Finally, we entered the room, and I was met with the sight of an old man sitting behind an imposing desk. His long silver beard flowed like liquid moonlight, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to contain the wisdom of countless ages. He exuded an aura of immense power that was palpable, even from a distance. Beside him stood the same boy from class—the one who had captured my attention and left me questioning my own feelings. As our eyes met, I felt a strange connection, a flicker of recognition that both intrigued and frightened me.

But the pressure in the room was suffocating. With every breath, I felt my resolve falter, as if the weight of the Grandmaster's presence alone could crush me. My heart raced, pounding against my ribcage like a frantic bird desperate to escape. I pushed myself to keep moving, but with each step, the dizziness intensified, and I fought to remain conscious.

Then, just as I opened my mouth to speak, the world began to tilt. The floor lurched beneath me, and colors blurred into a dizzying haze. Panic gripped me, clawing at my insides as the realization hit—I was losing control. My knees buckled, and time seemed to stretch into eternity as I began to fall.

"No!" I screamed internally, willing myself to fight against the impending darkness. But my body betrayed me. The chaotic swirl of emotions twisted into an eerie calmness, wrapping me in a warm embrace as I surrendered to gravity's pull.

As I fell, I felt weightless, suspended between two worlds—a leaf caught in a gentle breeze, drifting without a care. The rush of my heartbeat drowned out the noise around me, becoming the only thing I could focus on. Just then, strong hands caught me, pulling me back from the brink of oblivion.

The warmth radiating from the boy's grip seeped into my skin, chasing away the chilling dread that had wrapped around my heart. I managed to crack my eyelids open just enough to catch a glimpse of his concerned expression—a mix of fear and relief etched into his features.

"Stay with me," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm against the chaos that had just consumed me. I wanted to respond, to assure him I was alright, but fatigue pulled me back into the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.

When I finally regained consciousness, Miss Veena was at my side, her expression a blend of concern and authority, while the Grandmaster looked on with a knowing smile.

"Mira, how are you feeling now? Do you feel hurt anywhere?"

"My head hurts," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Drink some water first; your headache will be gone soon," he instructed gently, his tone wrapped in a softness that belied his formidable presence.

"This is incredible," the Grandmaster said, glancing at Miss Veena. "She stood under that pressure for three whole minutes without any sort of training beforehand. She is already as good as the ones in the inner court."

"Grandmaster," Miss Veena interjected, "even if you wanted to test Mira, you should not have done it this way. She is still a child."

"Oh, ho, Miss Veena," he chuckled softly, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "She will be just fine. The pressure I exerted was merely to help her open her blocked meridians. This will only enhance her powers."

"But still," she persisted, "if she could not handle the pressure, it would have hurt her."

"She could take it, which is why I applied it," he replied, his tone firm yet kind. "Moreover, the enchanted water will help her recover faster."

I sipped the water, and to my surprise, a soothing warmth spread through me. "I feel… better," I murmured, realizing that the magic within me was flowing smoothly, unfettered by the earlier constraints. Just looking at the Grandmaster, I could sense he was on the brink of immortality; his presence was both intimidating and oddly comforting.

"Thank you, Grandmaster," I said, mustering the strength to meet his gaze.

"Oh ho, what a sweet child," he smiled warmly, his demeanor softening. "I'm glad you didn't hate me for what I did earlier."

Miss Veena glanced at me, prompting me to demonstrate my abilities. "Mira, quickly show your fire to the Grandmaster."

"Yes, Teacher," I responded, my confidence slowly returning. I focused, summoning flames in my left hand, watching in awe as blue and white flames danced to life, flickering brightly against the backdrop of the room.

The Grandmaster's eyes widened as he gazed upon my flames, an expression of disbelief etched across his face. "What is this?" he breathed, leaning closer as if drawn by an unseen force. "Such beauty intertwined with danger…"

"Mira, come nearer," he urged, his voice barely a whisper, filled with awe and reverence.

I stepped closer, the heat from my flame illuminating the space around us. "What is it?" I wanted to ask, but the words got caught in my throat.

"Your fire is unlike anything I have seen before," he said finally, his tone laced with both wonder and caution. "It's special—very special."

"What do you mean?" I stammered, the weight of his gaze pinning me in place.

The Grandmaster leaned back, contemplation etched across his features. "You possess an affinity for a flame that transcends the ordinary," he mused, his eyes flickering with a myriad of emotions. "This power could either illuminate the world or engulf it in darkness. It is a rare gift, one that few can wield without losing themselves."

As his words hung in the air, a sense of unease settled over me. What did this mean for me? The thrill of wielding such power clashed violently with the fear of what it could lead to.