One who stands above the flame

The firebird screams still echoed in Kedar’s ears when the wind changed.Not the gentle mountain wind that carried dust and pine-scented air—but something heavier, sharper, as if the sky itself had inhaled.Kedar stood alone at the edge of the scorched field.The village behind him lay silent. Burned crops smoldered faintly, thin smoke rising like wounded spirits. The prana-born creatures were gone—destroyed—but victory tasted hollow. Too quiet. Too empty.His Fire Prana pulsed restlessly under his skin.That was when the shadow passed over him.Kedar looked up.The clouds above twisted unnaturally, spiraling inward. The air pressure dropped so suddenly his knees bent instinctively. Pebbles lifted from the ground, trembling, then rose slowly into the air.A silhouette descended from the storm.Wings—vast, layered, feathered with burning embers—unfurled against the darkened sky. Each feather glowed faintly red at the edges, like iron pulled fresh from a forge.The figure landed without sound.The ground cracked.Kedar staggered back, heart hammering.The being before him was humanoid, tall, broad-shouldered—but unmistakably not human. His eyes burned amber-gold, sharp and ancient. Fire flickered faintly along his wings, while the wind curved obediently around his form.No aura flared wildly.No rage.Only pressure.It felt like standing before a mountain that had learned how to move.“Are you the one killing my birds?” Kedar demanded, forcing his voice steady.The figure tilted his head slightly, studying him—not with hostility, but with interest.“Birds?” he echoed, voice deep and resonant.“They were tests.”Kedar clenched his fists. “They were hurting people.”“They were weak,” the figure replied calmly. “So are you.”Fire surged in Kedar’s veins.Without another word, he attacked.The First ClashKedar launched forward, Fire Prana igniting around his arms. His strike was fast, clean—months of training under Guru Parshu focused into a single explosive punch.The figure didn’t move.The punch never landed.A wall of compressed wind slammed into Kedar’s chest mid-strike, hurling him backward like a leaf in a storm. He rolled across the cracked earth, barely managing to stop himself.Before he could rise, heat washed over him.Feathers—dozens, hundreds—rained down from above.Each one burned like a blade.Kedar barely raised a Fire Prana shield in time. Feathers struck, exploded, sliced through stone. The ground around him shattered, smoke and dust engulfing the field.He burst out of the cloud, panting, eyes sharp.“So that’s how you fight,” he muttered.The winged figure finally stepped forward.“Fire and wind,” he said. “You understand the first. You don’t deserve the second.”The air howled.A vortex formed around the figure as he leapt skyward, wings beating once—just once—and the shockwave flattened everything within fifty meters.Kedar was driven to one knee.His Fire Prana flared wildly, unstable.The figure descended like judgment.Utter DefeatKedar fought with everything he had.Fire blasts. Close combat. A desperate surge of Rosha flickered—but it was incomplete, uncontrolled. Each attack was evaded, redirected, or crushed.A single wing strike shattered his defense.Another sent him skidding across stone.His ribs screamed in protest. Blood filled his mouth.Still, he tried to rise.The figure caught him mid-motion, one clawed hand gripping Kedar by the throat, lifting him effortlessly off the ground.Kedar gasped, feet dangling.The world blurred.“You have spirit,” the figure said, eyes burning steadily.“But spirit without depth burns out fast.”He released Kedar.Kedar collapsed, coughing violently, vision swimming.He tried to push himself up.Failed.The figure turned away, wings folding slightly.“Your friends,” he added casually.Kedar froze.“They are alive,” the figure continued. “For now.”Kedar’s fists dug into the dirt. “Where are they?”The figure glanced back over his shoulder.“Strong enough to endure,” he said.“Weak enough to be taken.”Rage exploded inside Kedar—but his body refused to respond.The figure stepped into the air.“I will not kill you today,” he said.Kedar spat blood. “Why?”The wings paused mid-beat.“Because I hunt strength,” the figure replied.“And you are not done growing.”Wind roared.Fire spiraled.The storm swallowed him whole.And then—he was gone.AftermathSilence returned to the field.Kedar lay broken, staring at the sky.His Fire Prana flickered weakly, like a dying flame.He had lost.Not narrowly.Not honorably.Completely.Hours later, footsteps approached.A familiar presence pressed down gently, steady and warm.“Kedar.”Guru Parshu knelt beside him, staff planted firmly in the earth.Kedar’s voice cracked. “I wasn’t enough.”Parshu didn’t deny it.“That creature,” the sage said quietly, eyes scanning the ruined land, “is walking a path soaked in blood.”He helped Kedar sit up.“And you,” Parshu continued, “are standing at the edge of something far deeper than fire.”Kedar clenched his teeth, tears mixing with dust.“I’ll get stronger,” he whispered.“No matter what it takes.”Parshu’s gaze hardened.“Then your next step lies beyond these mountains,” he said.“At a place where fire learns restraint… and water learns resolve.”Kedar looked up.“Varuna Temple.”The wind stirred again.But this time, it felt like a beginning.

To be continued.......