Chapter 28: Training and Flight
Aarav stared at his father, stunned. "Papa, did you say something?"
Bhaskar laughed. "Nothing. I was just trying to scare you."
Aarav forced a laugh in return. "Oh, really? Okay, come in. Did you need something?"
"No, nothing. Just came to see my son," Bhaskar said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
"Alright," Aarav said, his own smile tight. Bhaskar left.
Aarav let out a shaky breath. He didn't see me. Good. Now I need to get to college. The dance is tonight, I have to meet the others.
He grabbed his bike and sped off. Midway, a thought struck him—Kiyan lives somewhere in this forest. He pulled over onto the shoulder and ventured into the dense greenery. Weaving through ancient trees and hanging vines, he arrived at the mouth of a familiar cave, its entrance veiled by thick foliage.
"Kiyan! Kiyan! Are you in there?" Aarav called out.
He stepped inside. A sudden gust of wind—unnatural, too fast. A blade of pure shadow shot towards his throat. Aarav's eyes flashed, a reflexive burst of silver light in the gloom. His hand snapped up, intercepting the wrist behind the attack with a force that halted it completely. He was a millisecond from driving his own power into the assailant when his eyes focused on the face inches from his.
It was Kiyan.
Aarav released his grip. "Kiyan! You?"
Kiyan smiled, a flash of white in the dark. "Yes, me. You're not slow either, Aarav."
"You almost got a punch to the face," Aarav said, his heart still racing. "Good thing I recognized you in time."
Kiyan chuckled. "You couldn't have hit me. I stopped when I saw it was you."
"Oh really?" Aarav's smile turned challenging. "Care to test that?"
Without warning, Aarav lunged. Kiyan flowed to the side like smoke. Kiyan retaliated with a strike of his own, but Aarav's forearms came up in a solid block, halting the blow. In a fluid motion, Aarav spun, appearing behind Kiyan, his hand raised for a chop. But Kiyan was already sidestepping, shoving Aarav forward off-balance.
Aarav recovered instantly, charging again. Kiyan was faster, a blur that materialized behind him, a cold edge of obsidian-like energy resting against Aarav's throat. "So, who won, Aarav?"
"I did!" Aarav grunted, twisting his body to break the hold, using Kiyan's own momentum to flip him onto the mossy ground. He laughed, breathless. "See? I won." He extended a hand to pull Kiyan up.
Instead, Kiyan grabbed his wrist and yanked. Aarav tumbled down on top of him. Kiyan's eyes ignited with molten gold, triumphant. "Aarav, look, I won!" He rolled, pinning Aarav beneath him before springing to his feet.
Aarav lay on the ground, holding out a hand. "Fine, you win. Now help me up."
Kiyan leaned down to pull him up. Aarav seized his arm and yanked hard, using the leverage to spring upright with surprising speed, a mischievous grin on his face. "So, tell me now, who won?" He started walking deeper into the cave.
In a blink, Kiyan was up. He swept Aarav off his feet, cradling him like he weighed nothing, and burst from the cave. Trees became streaks of green and brown as Kiyan ran, not at human speed, but with the preternatural velocity that defied physics. In moments, they were back at the road, beside Aarav's bike. Kiyan set him down gently.
"What was that for?" Aarav asked, disoriented and exhilarated. "Why'd you bring me here? What's in the cave?"
"Nothing," Kiyan said, his expression suddenly closed off. "We should go."
"Okay, fine. Get on."
The bike roared to life. Kiyan settled behind him, and they rode the rest of the way to college in a comfortable, wind-filled silence.
At the college gates, they parked and walked in. The campus was a hive of activity, being decorated for the night's annual function. Streamers hung between pillars, fairy lights were being tested. Then they saw them—Karishma and Nayan, embroiled in what looked like a heated argument near the main stage.
"You are so impossible!" Karishma's voice rang out, sharp with frustration.
"Oh, I'm impossible? You're the one who—" Nayan's retort was cut short as Karishma, in a fit of pique, snatched a small decorative bouquet from a nearby stand and hurled it at him.
It wasn't meant to be a real weapon. But the wooden stick holding the flowers was sharper than it looked. It struck Nayan on the temple with a sickening thwack. He staggered back, a line of crimson instantly welling from the cut and tracing a path down the side of his face.
The bustling activity around them froze. Karishma's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. "Nayan! Oh my god, I didn't mean to—!"
Nayan touched his temple, his fingers coming away red. He looked more stunned than angry.
Aarav and Kiyan exchanged a single glance. In unison, they broke into a run, pushing through the gathering crowd.
"Move! Let us through!" Aarav barked.
They reached the pair. Karishma was trembling, tears starting in her eyes. "It was an accident, I swear…"
"Here, sit," Kiyan said to Nayan, his voice calm but firm, guiding him to sit on the edge of the stage. Aarav was already pulling a clean handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it against the wound.
"It's not deep," Aarav assessed quickly, though his heart was pounding. "But it's bleeding a lot. We need to get him to the infirmary."
"I'll take him," Kiyan said. Before anyone could argue, he had one of Nayan's arms draped over his shoulders and was helping him up with effortless strength.
"I can walk," Nayan mumbled, but he was pale.
"Just let him help," Aarav said. He turned to Karishma, who looked utterly shattered. "It was an accident, Karishma. He knows that. But you should come with us."
She nodded mutely, falling into step beside them as Kiyan half-supported, half-carried Nayan towards the college infirmary. The walk was tense and silent, punctuated only by Nayan's hissed breaths.
The nurse on duty took over, clucking her tongue as she cleaned and dressed the wound. "Superficial, but nasty cut. You'll need to keep it clean. No dancing for you tonight, young man."
Nayan's face fell. "What? But the performance—"
"Is cancelled for you," the nurse said firmly. "Concussion risk. Rest."
The reality settled in the small room. Their quartet was broken. The dance they'd practiced for weeks was crumbling hours before the show.
Karishma sank into a chair, burying her face in her hands. "This is all my fault. I ruined everything."
Nayan, bandaged and subdued, looked at her. "Hey. Stop it. It was a stupid fight. An accident."
"But the dance…" she whispered.
Aarav watched them, his mind racing. Then he looked at Kiyan, who was standing quietly by the door, his golden eyes missing nothing. An idea, reckless and daring, sparked in Aarav's mind.
He stepped forward. "The dance isn't ruined."
Everyone looked at him.
"Nayan can't perform," Aarav said, his voice gaining conviction. "But we have a replacement." He turned and pointed directly at Kiyan. "He knows the steps. He's been watching us practice for weeks. He's more than capable."
Kiyan's eyes widened slightly. He shook his head, a minute, almost imperceptible movement. No.
Nayan looked from Aarav to Kiyan, a slow understanding dawning. "He… he could do it. He's got the moves."
Karishma looked up, hope warring with doubt on her tear-streaked face. "Kiyan? Would you…?"
Kiyan was silent, his gaze locked with Aarav's. In Aarav's eyes, he saw not just a solution to a problem, but an offer—a chance to step out of the shadows, to be part of something normal, if only for one night. A chance to fight their dark fates with nothing but rhythm and light.
Slowly, Kiyan gave a single, solemn nod.
Karishma let out a shuddering breath of relief. Nayan managed a weak thumbs-up.
"Then it's settled," Aarav said, a determined smile finally breaking through. "The show goes on. Let's get you patched up, Nayan. And you two," he looked at Kiyan and Karishma, "we have a final rehearsal to run. Tonight, we dance."
Outside the infirmary window, the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The stage was set, not just for a college function, but for a different kind of performance one where a Vaishnav and a Daayaansh would move as one, their secret war forgotten for a few hours, lost in the music and the shared, human beat of the night.