Shadows of the Past

“No,” Navrat admitted without hesitation.

For a while, there was silence. The crunch of leaves beneath his boots and the occasional rustle of small creatures filled the air. Then, Ruhi spoke again, her voice softer this time.

“This forest... I used to come here with my brothers.”

Navrat slowed his pace, his ears perking at the tone of her voice. It wasn’t just a passing comment; there was weight behind her words. He didn’t respond immediately, letting her continue.

“They were older than me—strong, confident. Everyone admired them. I was just... the weak one. They’d tease me about how I couldn’t even climb a tree without falling.” Her voice held a faint laugh, but it was tinged with sadness. “But my father never cared about that. He’d always say I was stronger than I thought.”

Navrat felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t his own emotion; it was hers, bleeding through their strange connection. He pushed it aside, focusing on the path ahead.

“He sounds like a good man,” Navrat said gruffly.

“He was,” Ruhi replied, her voice trembling slightly. “He believed in me. Even when no one else did, he’d tell me I was destined for something great.” She hesitated. “Do you... have family?”

Navrat’s jaw tightened. His grip on the sword’s hilt grew firmer, and he picked up his pace slightly, as if trying to outrun the question.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to,” he said, his tone sharp.

Ruhi was silent for a moment, but she didn’t back down. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said quietly. “It’s just... you’re helping me. I thought maybe—”

“I’m not helping you,” Navrat interrupted, his voice cold. “I’m helping myself. Don’t mistake this for charity.”

Ruhi didn’t respond immediately. When she finally spoke, her tone was more subdued. “You’re not as heartless as you think you are, Navrat.”

The name caught him off guard. It sounded strange coming from her lips, a reminder of who he was—who he used to be. He didn’t respond, keeping his eyes fixed ahead.

Suddenly, he stopped, crouching low to the ground. Ruhi’s voice was a sharp whisper in his mind.

“What are you doing?”

Navrat didn’t answer. His eyes scanned the ground, his fingers brushing against a cluster of small, vibrant green leaves growing at the base of a tree. He plucked them carefully, tucking them into a small pouch he had fashioned from scraps of cloth.

“What is that?” Ruhi asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Medicinal plants,” Navrat said. “This body is weak. I’ll need these to strengthen it.”

Ruhi seemed impressed. “You know about herbs?”

“I know about survival,” Navrat replied bluntly.

As they continued through the forest, Navrat stopped a few more times, collecting various plants and occasionally muttering their names under his breath. Ruhi watched—or rather, felt—his movements with growing curiosity. Despite his gruff demeanor, there was a precision to everything he did, a careful consideration that spoke of years of experience. 

"You’ve done this before,” she said after a while.

“Many times,” Navrat admitted. “Though usually, I had better tools.”

Ruhi hesitated, then spoke again, her voice tentative. “You’re... different from anyone I’ve ever met.”

“That’s because I’m not from your world,” Navrat replied.

The weight of his words hung in the air, and Ruhi didn’t press him further. Instead, she shifted the conversation back to herself, perhaps sensing that he wasn’t ready—or willing—to share his story.

“My brothers used to laugh at me for carrying around books instead of weapons,” she said, her voice lighter now. “They’d call me a dreamer. But my father said knowledge could be as sharp as any blade.”

Navrat hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes scanning the trees for any movement. He admired her resilience, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud.

“Do you miss them?” he asked, surprising even himself with the question.

Ruhi’s voice grew quieter. “Every second.”

Navrat said nothing. He understood loss better than most, but he wasn’t about to share his own pain. There was no point in dwelling on the past—it only made the wounds deeper.

They continued in silence for a while, the forest growing denser around them. The air was thick with the scent of moss and damp earth. Suddenly, Navrat froze, his body tensing.

“What is it?” Ruhi asked, her voice edged with panic.

Navrat’s eyes narrowed. In the distance, a shadow moved—swift and deliberate, cutting through the trees with remarkable speed.

“We’re not alone,” he muttered.

The shadow disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only the rustle of disturbed foliage in its wake. Navrat’s grip on his sword tightened, his senses on high alert.

“Should we run?” Ruhi asked, fear creeping into her voice.

“No,” Navrat said firmly. “Running makes you a target. We keep moving—but cautiously.”

Ruhi didn’t argue, sensing the authority in his tone. As they continued, Navrat’s eyes darted from side to side, his body poised to react at a moment’s notice. His instincts screamed that something—or someone—was watching them.

But for now, the forest remained silent, the only sound their footsteps crunching over fallen leaves.

Ruhi broke the tension with a tentative question. “Do you think... we’ll make it to the city?”

“We will,” Navrat said confidently. “You might not trust me, but I know how to survive.”

Ruhi hesitated, then said, “I do trust you. I mean, I think I’m starting to.”

Navrat didn’t respond immediately. Trust was a luxury he hadn’t afforded anyone in a long time, and he wasn’t about to start now. But as he glanced at the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the trees, he found himself hoping—for her sake—that her trust wasn’t misplaced.

They pressed on, the forest closing in around them like a living entity, the shadow from earlier still lingering in the back of Navrat’s mind.

The forest blurred past as Navrat moved with remarkable speed, leaping from branch to branch with an agility that belied the fragility of his borrowed body. The cool night air whipped against him, his senses sharp as he scanned the terrain below. Suddenly, he stopped, perched on a sturdy branch, his gaze fixed on the distance. His breath hitched as his eyes widened in curiosity.

"Is that what I think it is?” he muttered to himself, narrowing his gaze at a golden shimmer that seemed to pulse with a faint aura.

“What is it?” Ruhi asked, her voice hesitant yet curious.

Navrat’s lips curved into a faint smile. “A Seven-Colored Golden Lotus. Rare. Valuable. Exactly what this body needs.”

Ruhi’s gasp echoed in his mind. “Seven-Colored Golden Lotus? My father used to talk about it when I was a child! He said it could heal almost

any wound and strengthen the body tremendously. But he also said…” Her voice trailed off, tinged with concern.

“Go on,” Navrat prompted.

Ruhi hesitated. “It’s said to be guarded by a powerful snake—a creature that’s lived for centuries, protecting the lotus from anyone foolish enough to try and take it.”

Navrat’s eyes glinted, undeterred. “Then we’ll just have to be smarter than the snake.”

Without waiting for a reply, he leapt toward the glowing lotus, landing silently a few meters away. His hands moved in precise, practiced motions, forming seals with an elegance that spoke of years of experience.

“Secret Art: String Clone.”

In an instant, two identical clones materialized beside him, their forms rippling faintly with energy. With a single thought, Navrat

commanded one of the clones to dash toward a specific direction. The clone obeyed, moving like a blur through the trees, its target clear.

As the clone neared the shadowy area, it performed a swift series of hand signs and called out, “Heaven’s Domain, Third Fold: Jade Lightning!”

A bolt of green lightning crackled through the air, striking toward the shadows. A massive snake emerged, its scales glistening under the faint moonlight as it dodged the attack with remarkable speed.The creature hissed angrily, its eyes glowing with an eerie intelligence.

The clone didn’t hesitate and darted deeper into the forest, its movements deliberate yet frenzied. The snake, deceived by the maneuver, slithered after it, its massive body cutting through the underbrush with terrifying speed.

Ruhi’s voice broke the tension. “That snake’s dumber than I thought,” she muttered, her disbelief apparent.

Navrat smirked but didn’t respond. His focus shifted to the second clone. “Now,” he commanded, his voice sharp.

The second clone darted toward the lotus, its hands forming seals mid-air. “Heaven’s Domain, First Fold: Demonic Flames!”

A roaring burst of black and red flames surged toward the lotus, striking its base. A loud crack echoed through the forest, followed by a deafening explosion. The air shimmered with the remnants of the trap—an intricate defensive barrier designed to protect the lotus.

“Hmph, pitiful little trick,” Navrat muttered, his voice laced with disdain.

Ruhi, however, was visibly shocked. “That was… incredible. You destroyed the barrier just like that?”

Navrat didn’t reply. Instead, he moved with lightning speed, his body blurring as he grabbed the lotus, his movements precise and calculated. Just as he secured the precious flower, he made a quick hand seal.

“Release!”

The moment the word left his lips, a massive explosion erupted in the distance, accompanied by a bloodcurdling scream—the snake’s pained roar reverberated through the forest.

Navrat landed on a nearby branch, the lotus safely tucked away. “That should keep it busy for a while,” he muttered.

Ruhi’s awe was evident. “You’re… unbelievable.”

Navrat shrugged, already scanning the area for more resources. “Let’s keep moving. This body isn’t strong enough yet.”

The duo continued deeper into the forest, Navrat pausing occasionally to collect herbs and medicinal plants. Each time, Ruhi watched with a mix of curiosity and admiration as he identified and harvested rare ingredients with a precision that seemed almost second nature.

Their progress was interrupted when a sudden growl echoed through the trees. Navrat stopped, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword. From the shadows, a massive fire wolf emerged, its eyes blazing like molten gold.

The wolf lunged, its jaws snapping with deadly force. Navrat sidestepped with ease, his movements fluid and deliberate. His hands formed a quick seal.

“Heaven’s Domain, Second Fold: Ice Prison!”

A sudden burst of frost surrounded the wolf, encasing it in a crystalline cage of ice. The creature howled in rage, its fiery aura clashing

violently with the cold. Navrat didn’t give it a chance to escape. He closed the distance with a swift shadow step, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. The wolf’s cries were silenced in an instant.

Ruhi exhaled in relief, her voice tinged with awe. “You make it look so easy.”

“It’s not,” Navrat replied, sheathing his sword. “It’s experience—and instinct. Both of which you’ll need if you want to survive.”

They continued, but their next challenge was even more formidable. A massive spider, its body shimmering with icy blue patterns, descended from the treetops. Its many eyes glinted with malice, and a chilling mist surrounded it.

Navrat’s eyes narrowed. “An ice spider. Annoying.”

The spider lunged, its movements surprisingly quick for its size. Navrat dodged, his footwork impeccable as he activated a technique.

“Shadow Step.”

He appeared behind the spider, his sword aiming for its abdomen. But the creature reacted just as quickly, releasing a blast of icy shards that forced him to retreat.

“Clever,” Navrat muttered, his lips curling into a faint smile. “But not clever enough.”

The fight dragged on, with the spider using its icy abilities to create obstacles and traps. Navrat countered with a combination of footwork and techniques, his movements a deadly dance of precision and power.

“Heaven’s Domain, First Fold: Demonic Flames!”

The black and red flames engulfed the spider, melting its icy defenses. With a final strike,

Navrat’s sword pierced the creature’s core, ending the battle.

Ruhi stared, her expression a mixture of amazement and disbelief. “How… how are you this good?”

Navrat wiped the blade clean, his expression unreadable. “Practice.”

The forest eventually gave way to a rocky mountain path. Navrat found the way to a secluded clearing, where he set down the herbs and materials he had collected.

“What are you doing now?” Ruhi asked, watching as he began to arrange the ingredients with meticulous care.

“Making a pill,” Navrat replied. “This body needs strength, and this will give it a boost.”

He used a combination of fire magic and alchemical techniques to refine the ingredients, his hands moving with practiced efficiency. The

process took hours, but eventually, a small, shimmering pill rested in his palm.

Without hesitation, he swallowed it. A surge of energy coursed through his body, his muscles tensing as the pill’s effects took hold. He exhaled slowly, his eyes glowing faintly with newfound power.

“Your turn,”  

Ruhi groaned. “Do I have to?”

"Yes,” Navrat said firmly. “Your soul might be weak, but it has potential. Let’s see how much.”

For hours, he guided her through a series of drills, his tone strict but not unkind. By the time they finished, Ruhi’s Soul was exhausted, but there was a newfound determination in her eyes.

“That’s enough for now,” Navrat said, stepping back. “We’ll continue later.”

As the sun set, Navrat turned his attention to the next step of his plan. His hand moved in a slow, deliberate seal.

“Summoning: Oni.”

The air shimmered, and a massive, ancient door materialized before them. Its surface was adorned with intricate carvings of demons and spirits, radiating an aura of immense power.

The door creaked open, revealing a tall, well-dressed man with two horns protruding from his head. He knelt before Navrat, his voice deep and reverent.

“At your service, Master.”