The Rejected One

The first light of dawn crept into the hut, painting soft golden patterns on the walls. Arun sat at the edge of his mat, staring at the ground, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. The quiet hum of the waking tribe could be heard faintly outside—the sound of villagers starting their morning tasks. But inside the hut, the air was thick with silence.

Arun had barely slept. His thoughts had been a whirlwind of doubt, curiosity, and fear, crashing over him in relentless waves throughout the night. Today was the day. Awakening was no longer a distant idea—it was real, and it was terrifying. The thought gnawed at him: What if I die? What happens to Mom if I don't come back?

For years, Arun had cherished the life he had built here. He loved the mornings spent helping his mother, the afternoons inventing with scraps and bits, and the evenings of laughter with his friends. His mind often buzzed with ideas from his past life—projects and concepts from a world that had been more structured, more predictable. He had poured himself into this new life, finding joy in creating something meaningful in a world that often seemed harsh and unforgiving. And now, he was being asked to risk it all.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his dark, slightly disheveled hair. I've spent nine years building something incredible here. But what if I'm gone tomorrow? What would happen to Mom? She's already lost so much.

His chest tightened at the thought. Mona was his anchor. She had raised him with unwavering love and patience, even when his curiosity drove her to the brink of exasperation. Arun couldn't imagine leaving her alone, without her only son.

And yet, there was another voice inside him—a voice that burned with excitement, with the desire for answers. Awakening... what is it really? Could it help me understand the energy I've felt inside me? Could it unlock something greater?

Meanwhile, in another part of the hut, Mona was quietly preparing breakfast, her hands moving rhythmically as she worked. Her heart felt heavy, weighed down by the knowledge of what the day would bring. She glanced at Arun, who sat motionless, lost in thought. A pang of worry cut through her as she studied his expression.

For Mona, the thought of losing Arun was unbearable. He was her world, her reason for waking up each day. She had already lost her husband to a Beast, and she couldn't bear the thought of losing her son as well. Her every instinct screamed at her to tell him to stop, to forbid him from taking the risk.

But then she looked closer—at the glint of determination in his eyes, at the restless energy that always seemed to simmer just beneath his surface. Arun was unlike anyone she had ever known. From the moment he could walk and talk, he had been different. Smart, yes, but also relentlessly curious, as though the world itself wasn't enough for him. Mona had seen this side of him grow over the years, culminating in the young man who sat before her now.

He's always been drawn to the unknown, she thought. It's who he is. I can't take that away from him, no matter how much it scares me.

She sighed, her hands pausing as she gripped the edge of the counter. Arun isn't a child anymore. He's old enough to make this decision, even if it's one I wouldn't choose for him. If I try to stop him, I might crush the very part of him that makes him special.

Turning toward him, she quietly walked over and sat down beside him. "Arun," she said softly, breaking the silence. He turned to her, his gaze conflicted. "You don't have to do this, you know. No one would think any less of you if you chose to wait."

He hesitated, then shook his head slightly. "I know, Mom. But... I can't ignore this. What if this is the key to understanding the energy inside me? What if it's the only way I can protect the people I care about? Protect you?"

Mona reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "I know why you're doing this," she said, her voice wavering. "And I'm proud of you—proud of the man you've become. But you're still my son. That means I'll always worry about you, no matter how strong or smart you get."

Arun smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I just... I need to know. I need to understand what Awakening is, what it means. If there's a chance it could help me... help us... I have to take it."

Mona nodded slowly, her chest tightening with a mix of fear and reluctant acceptance. "Then I won't stop you," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the ache in her heart. "But promise me one thing."

"Anything," Arun replied.

"Promise me that if you come back..." She paused, searching for the right words. "No, when you come back—you won't lose the part of you that makes you who you are. The part that dreams, that creates, that cares."

Arun's smile softened, and he reached out to take her hand in his. "I promise."

For a moment, they sat there in silence, mother and son, holding on to the quiet before the storm. Mona didn't want to let him go, but she understood that Arun wasn't just her son. He was something more. And though it terrified her, she knew she couldn't hold him back from his destiny.

As Arun prepared for the day ahead, his mind remained conflicted. The love of his mother, the joy of inventing, the camaraderie of his friends—those were the things that made life worth living. But deep down, the pull of Awakening, the unanswered questions, and the sense of something greater calling to him were impossible to ignore.

I'll come back, he thought to himself as he left the hut, his resolve hardening with every step. And yet, the shadow of uncertainty lingered, a quiet reminder of the risks he was about to take.

As the sun climbed higher into the midday sky, Arun walked across the main path of the village, his steps measured and deliberate. He had been summoned by Kaelan, the tribe leader, just hours before his Awakening. It wasn't a meeting he had expected, and though he tried to suppress it, a thread of curiosity tugged at him. What could Kaelan possibly want to discuss on such a pivotal day?

He reached the tribe leader's house—a sturdy brick structure with walls adorned by hand-carved patterns, a symbol of the respect and authority Kaelan commanded. Vedan, Kaelan's most trusted elder, stood outside, nodding briefly to Arun before gesturing for him to enter. Inside, Kaelan sat at a simple wooden table, his broad shoulders and imposing presence making the modest surroundings feel smaller. The leader's piercing eyes fixed on Arun the moment he stepped through the door.

"Sit," Kaelan said, his voice calm but firm.

Arun obeyed, settling onto a stool across from the leader. Vedan followed, closing the door behind him before taking a seat to Kaelan's right. The room was quiet for a moment, the tension almost tangible. Arun, used to speaking his mind freely with his friends and mother, found himself uncharacteristically reserved under Kaelan's sharp gaze.

Kaelan leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. "Arun," he began, his tone measured, "what do you think of this tribe?"

The question took Arun by surprise, though he kept his face neutral. He hesitated only briefly before answering. "I think this tribe is strong," he said. "We've grown a lot in the past few years. We have food, homes that can withstand storms, and a growing population. People here seem... hopeful. Like we've built something worth protecting."

Kaelan nodded slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Yes, the tribe is stronger than it was. We've seen changes, progress, growth. But strength, Arun—true strength—is still a rare thing among us."

Arun tilted his head slightly, unsure where Kaelan was going with this. "What do you mean?"

Kaelan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His expression darkened as his voice dropped to a quiet but intense tone. "This valley has protected us, given us a sanctuary to survive. But out there," he gestured toward the cliffs beyond the village, "the world isn't so forgiving. Beasts grow stronger with every evolution. Greater Ones—they barely have to try. They grow into their strength as naturally as breathing, their arrogance unchecked because they know no one can challenge them. Meanwhile, humans... we fight tooth and nail for scraps of power. We train, we struggle, we lose half of those who attempt Awakening. Even those of us who succeed—" he paused, his tone laced with frustration, "—are barely enough to hold our own."

Vedan, ever the voice of reason, interjected. "Humans are resilient, Kaelan. We adapt, we innovate. That's what sets us apart."

Kaelan's gaze flicked to Vedan, his expression hard. "Resilience isn't enough. Not when the deck is stacked against us. Do you know what the Greater Ones call us, Arun?" His eyes shifted back to the young man. "The Rejected."

Arun stiffened, his sharp mind latching onto the word. "The Rejected?"

Kaelan's lips curled into a bitter smirk. "The species rejected by Aether. Weak, fragile, desperate. They see us as nothing more than pests, creatures barely worth their notice. And sometimes, I wonder if they're right. Look at the world around us. Beasts grow stronger simply by existing in Aether's flow. The Greater Ones, born with strength we can't even fathom, grow mightier with every passing year. But humans? We have to bleed for every ounce of power we gain."

The bitterness in Kaelan's voice wasn't just frustration—it was pain. Arun could see it clearly, the weight of a leader who had spent his life fighting a battle that felt hopeless at times. Yet, despite himself, Arun couldn't help but feel a spark of defiance stir in his chest. "But we're still here," he said quietly, his voice steady. "If we were truly rejected, if we were as weak as they think, wouldn't we have been wiped out by now?"

Kaelan studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You're not wrong, Arun. We've survived, and that says something. But survival isn't enough. It's not enough to just hold on, not when the threats are growing larger every day. That's why Awakening is so critical. It's the only way we can even begin to bridge the gap."

Vedan nodded. "He's right. Awakening gives us a chance, even if it's a slim one. But it's not a guarantee, Arun. You've seen the cost. You've seen the risks."

Arun's mind spun with the weight of their words. The bitterness in Kaelan's voice, the quiet acceptance in Vedan's—together, they painted a stark picture of humanity's place in the world. For all the progress he had helped bring to the tribe, for all the changes and innovations, the truth was undeniable: humans were fragile, and the odds were stacked against them. But Arun wasn't ready to accept that as the end of the story.

Kaelan leaned back slightly, the tension in his posture easing just enough to let a hint of something softer through. "Tell me, Arun," he said, his tone quieter but no less intense, "do you know what lies beyond this valley?"

Arun hesitated, then shook his head. "I've wondered, but I don't know. Other tribes? More Beasts? Something else?"

Kaelan nodded. "All of that, and more. Other tribes exist, scattered and isolated like us. But they face the same struggles—Beasts that grow stronger, Greater Ones that look down on us, a world that seems designed to crush us. Out there, strength is the only currency that matters. Ideas, walls, food—they mean nothing if you can't defend them."

He paused, his gaze sharp as he leaned forward again. "Tonight, you'll face the first true test of strength. Awakening isn't just about surviving. It's about proving—to Aether, to the world, to yourself—that you deserve to stand among the strong."

Arun met Kaelan's gaze, his mind racing. The bitterness in the tribe leader's voice, the quiet warning in Vedan's, the weight of the truths they had shared—it all settled over him like a heavy cloak. And yet, beneath the weight, there was something else: a flicker of resolve, of defiance.

"I understand," Arun said finally, his voice steady. "The risks, the cost, all of it. But if this is the only way to protect the people I care about, then I have to try."

Kaelan nodded slowly, his expression softening just enough to show a glimmer of approval. "Good. Then let's hope tonight proves you right."

As Arun stepped out of the tribe leader's house, the sun blazing high in the sky, a renewed sense of purpose filled him. The conversation with Kaelan weighed heavily on his mind, every word etched into his thoughts. The outside world—the Beasts, the Greater Ones, the dangers beyond the protective embrace of the valley—felt more real than ever. For years, Arun had wondered about the world beyond the cliffs. Now, he understood that what lay beyond was not just unknown but hostile, a place where the tribe's survival would depend on more than just clever ideas and the strength of brick walls.

He walked through the village, his sharp eyes catching every detail—the sturdy homes, the laughter of children running past, the sounds of life thriving in a way that hadn't been possible before. Arun had helped build this. His ideas, his inventions, his relentless curiosity—they had all played a part in creating a safe haven for the tribe. But the safety of the valley was fragile, and that fragility gnawed at him now.

Kaelan's words echoed in his mind: "Strength alone doesn't make a leader. But neither do ideas. It's the balance of both that holds this tribe together."

Arun clenched his fists as he walked. He had always believed in the power of knowledge, in the ability to solve problems through innovation and cooperation. But Kaelan was right—out there, beyond the walls, strength was the currency that mattered. He couldn't protect the tribe with ideas alone, not when faced with predators stronger and smarter than any human. And as much as he had built here, Arun knew deep down that it wasn't enough. Not yet.

For years, he had felt the pull of the Awakening—not just as a rite of passage, but as a key to something greater. The strange energy he had felt growing inside him, the dark-gray presence that seemed to hum with potential, now felt like a beacon. It had been waiting, and so had he.

Arun stopped at the edge of the village, looking out toward the cliffs that hemmed the valley in. His mind flickered with images of what might lie beyond: towering Beasts, ancient forests teeming with danger, and the Greater Ones, watching humanity with disdain from the shadows. Kaelan had called humans "The Rejected," a species barely noticed by the powerful forces that roamed the land. Arun didn't accept that—not fully. But if humanity was to rise above its station, someone had to take the first step.

If I die during the Awakening, Arun thought, his heart tightening, what happens to Mom? To the people here? The risk was real, and it terrified him. But fear couldn't outweigh the possibility of what he could achieve if he survived.

What's the point of everything I've done if I don't take this chance?

He exhaled slowly, letting the thought settle. Arun wasn't just determined—he was resolved. He would take the risk. He would take this risk cause he doesn't want die those senseless death again. He would be selfish this time. Tonight, he thought, I'll face whatever comes. The energy inside me, the Awakening, the truth of Aether—it's all been leading to this. And I'll survive, no matter what.

Arun turned and walked back toward his home, his steps steady and filled with purpose. The fear hadn't gone away, but it had been replaced with something stronger. This wasn't just about proving himself to the tribe or even to Kaelan. It was about proving something to himself. That he belonged, not just in this world, but among the strong—the ones who refused to be rejected.