Chapter 10: Whispers in the Wind

A vast, endless sky stretched before him, an expanse of deep blue and silver streaked with restless clouds. The wind howled, an unrelenting force whipping through his hair and clothes, but Aryan stood still, unshaken. He stood at the very edge of a jagged cliff, gazing down at the abyss below, where darkness churned like a storm trapped beneath the earth.

The world felt… weightless.

His feet barely touched the rocky surface, his body lighter than it should have been, as though the wind itself carried him. His pulse remained steady, his breath untroubled, yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him.

Then, the whispers came.

Not voices exactly—more like distant echoes carried by the wind, weaving through the air in a language he didn't understand. Yet, the meaning pressed against his mind, intangible but urgent, as though the wind itself was trying to tell him something.

He tried to listen.

A sudden gust of wind slammed into him from behind, stronger than before. The force pushed him forward. His foot slipped.

The cliff beneath him crumbled.

He was falling.

His heart pounded as the abyss reached for him, its darkness swallowing the sky—

And then—

Aryan's eyes snapped open.

Dim morning light seeped through the gaps in the curtains, casting a soft glow over his room. His breath was steady, his body relaxed, but the dream clung to him like a shadow, refusing to fade.

This wasn't the first time.

For nights now, he had been seeing the same vision—standing on that cliff, feeling the wind surround him, hearing those whispers. He didn't know what they meant, but each time, the sensation lingered longer.

He sat up, running a hand through his hair. His phone lay on the bedside table, the screen glowing with the time. A few minutes left before the alarm would ring.

Exhaling slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching out the stiffness in his limbs. The faintest tingling sensation buzzed at his fingertips, but when he looked at his hands, there was nothing unusual.

He shook his head. Just a dream.

His gaze flickered to his study desk, where textbooks and notes lay scattered. Right. Exams were approaching. That was supposed to be his main concern right now.

Yet, as he moved through his morning routine, the dream refused to leave him.

The school corridors were a chaotic blend of voices, footsteps, and ringing bells. Students rushed between classes, some engaged in loud conversations, others buried in books, cramming for the upcoming exams.

Aryan walked through the crowd, his mind far from the academic pressure that seemed to weigh on everyone else. He had tried—tried to push the dream aside, tried to focus on his studies—but something felt… off.

"Aryan."

A sharp poke in his shoulder pulled him back to reality.

He turned to see Aadhya falling into step beside him, a knowing smirk on her face.

"You're zoning out again, genius," she remarked, adjusting the strap of her bag.

Aryan exhaled through his nose, offering a half-hearted shrug. "Just thinking."

She raised an eyebrow. "Thinking about how you almost became the hero of the cricket match?" She nudged him playfully. "Still can't believe you were actually good at it."

Aryan let out a small chuckle. "Neither can I."

Aadhya studied him for a moment, the teasing edge in her voice fading slightly. "No, but seriously—you've been acting weird lately. More than usual."

Aryan scoffed. "Thanks."

"I mean it." Her gaze was sharp, observant. "You're distracted."

Aryan hesitated. Should he tell her? About the dreams, the strange sensations, the way the wind had felt… alive?

No. Not yet.

"It's just the exams," he said instead, giving a nonchalant shrug. "Not exactly looking forward to them."

Aadhya rolled her eyes. "You? Worried about exams? That's new."

Aryan forced a smirk, but before he could reply, the school bell rang, signaling the start of the next class.

"Saved by the bell," he muttered.

Aadhya shot him a knowing look. "This conversation isn't over," she warned before heading toward her class.

The day stretched on, a blur of lectures, assignments, and half-hearted attempts at studying. The approaching exams loomed over everyone, but Aryan found it harder than ever to focus.

His mind kept drifting.

The wind outside the classroom window moved in strange patterns, curling and twisting unnaturally. When he stepped outside for lunch, a sharp gust rushed past him, bending leaves and rippling the air in a way that felt… unnatural.

He could feel it.

It wasn't just wind. It was something else.

And no one else seemed to notice.

By the time school ended, Aryan was exhausted—not from studying, but from overthinking.

He had planned to take the bus home, but at the last minute, he decided to walk. He didn't know why. Maybe fresh air would help.

As he stepped through the school gates, a familiar voice called out.

"You're walking home today?"

Aadhya appeared beside him again, falling into step with an ease that suggested she had made the decision for him.

"Yeah," Aryan replied. He didn't feel like explaining.

Aadhya didn't question it.

They walked together, their conversation light—mostly her teasing him about exams, making jokes about how he'd probably overanalyze every question. Aryan responded with his usual sarcasm, but his mind wasn't fully there.

Then, it happened.

The wind, which had been gentle moments ago, shifted.

It wasn't a normal breeze. It was precise. Sharp. Almost… aware.

Aadhya shivered beside him, rubbing her arms. "Why did it suddenly get so cold?" she muttered.

Aryan's skin prickled. He felt it too—but not as cold. He felt something deeper, a pull in the air around him, an invisible force connecting to him.

His eyes flickered to the sky—clear, no sign of a storm.

Aadhya frowned, eyeing him suspiciously. "You okay?"

Aryan hesitated.

This was the second time today she had noticed something off about him.

"Yeah," he said finally. "Just… thinking again."

Aadhya sighed, exasperated. "You think too much, genius."

They reached the point where their paths split.

Aadhya gave him a final glance. "Try not to overanalyze your whole life, alright? See you tomorrow."

Aryan nodded, watching as she walked away.

The moment she was gone, he exhaled.

His fingers tingled again. The wind curled subtly around him, as if waiting.

And then—

A low, distant rumble of thunder.

Aryan's head snapped up.

But the sky was still clear. Not a single cloud in sight.

His breath came slower. His pulse steadier.

Something was happening to him.

Something beyond his understanding.

And he wasn't sure if he was ready for it.

Aryan remained rooted in place, his gaze fixed on the empty sky. The rumble had faded just as quickly as it came, leaving only silence behind. Yet, the weight of it lingered in his chest, pressing against his ribs like a force unseen.

He inhaled slowly. The wind stirred again, curling around him like invisible fingers tracing the edges of his form. This wasn't just wind. He could feel it—an awareness in the air, as if it responded to him.

The thought sent a chill down his spine.

For a long moment, he simply stood there, waiting for something else to happen. Another gust. Another sound. Anything to prove that he hadn't imagined it.

Nothing came.

With a slow exhale, he turned and resumed his walk home, his mind a tangled mess of thoughts.

Maybe I'm just overthinking.

But even as he tried to rationalize it, the unease in his chest remained.

The streets stretched before him, quiet except for the occasional passing car. He walked at a steady pace, the familiar path leading him past rows of houses and dimly lit streetlights flickering to life as the sun dipped lower.

By the time he reached his neighborhood, the last remnants of daylight had bled from the sky. His house stood in its usual stillness, its windows glowing faintly from within. He stepped inside, locking the door behind him.

His mother's voice called out from the kitchen. "Aryan, you're late. Did you have extra classes?"

"Just walked home," he answered, kicking off his shoes.

There was a pause. "Dinner will be ready soon. Go freshen up."

Aryan muttered a response and headed to his room, closing the door behind him. He leaned against it for a second, rubbing his temples. The day had been exhausting, but not in the way school usually drained him. This was something else entirely.

He moved toward his desk, glancing at his open textbooks. Pages filled with notes stared back at him, a reminder that exams were getting closer. He should be studying. He knew that.

But instead, his eyes drifted to the window.

Outside, the trees stood still, the world at peace.

Yet, the moment he reached out and placed his palm against the glass—

A breeze stirred.

Not outside.

Inside.

The papers on his desk rustled, the air around him shifting ever so slightly, as though the room itself had taken a breath.

Aryan's heart pounded. He pulled his hand back instantly, and just like that, the movement stopped. The air fell still again, the papers settling in place as if nothing had happened.

He swallowed hard.

This wasn't normal.

The dreams. The wind. The thunder that had no source.

Something inside him was waking up.

And for the first time, he wasn't sure if he wanted to know what it was.

END OF CHAPTER 10