The journey through the forest was a blur of alien sounds and strange, glowing plant life. Kiran's massive form strode ahead like a living mountain, every step reverberating through the mossy earth, while Aarya clung awkwardly to his back, wrapped in a thick hide stitched from dried bark and animal fur. He had crafted it earlier in silence, his strong hands working with almost reverent care as he glanced at her delicate figure, concern stitched between his brows.
The makeshift outfit was crude but warm, covering her modestly, though not enough to hide the odd curves and softness of her form—a fact that left Kiran troubled and restless. He kept his thoughts to himself, blaming her strangeness on malnourishment or some unknown mutation. Still, his protective instincts deepened with every mile.
By dusk, the forest grew cold and eerie. Shadows lengthened unnaturally fast, and the trees became denser, curling upward like fingers of forgotten gods. Kiran halted by a dark outcropping of rock partially concealed by twisted vines.
"A cave," he grunted. "We'll stay here. The winds rise after sundown."
Aarya slid off his back with care, her legs wobbly but her pride intact. She nodded and followed him into the cave, thankful for the warmth. It was shallow but dry, lined with ancient moss and faintly glowing blue lichens. He built a fire, using his large claws to spark flint, and handed her some soft fruit before settling at the entrance like a stone sentinel.
She lay down near the fire, exhaustion tugging at her eyes… but something inside her remained restless.
Hours Later
Aarya woke with a start.
There was no sound—only silence and a strange pull in her chest. It was subtle at first, like a whisper inside her ribcage, and then sharper, deeper. Her pendant blinked erratically, and a soft, near inaudible hum filled her ears.
She rose slowly, careful not to wake Kiran, who had fallen into a light sleep near the mouth of the cave, his large frame slumped like a guarding beast.
Drawn by the pull, she moved deeper into the cave. The moss beneath her bare feet felt warm, pulsating slightly, as if alive. Then she saw them—
Three round obsidian stones, nestled in the back alcove.
Perfectly spherical.
Each stone glimmered faintly with a pulse of iridescent color—red, violet, and silver—but beneath the surface they were dark as ink, ancient as death. They thrummed in the silence, their energy calling to her in a rhythm she did not understand but felt deeply.
Aarya hesitated. Her instincts screamed this is not normal—but something in her blood sang louder.
She reached out.
The moment her fingers brushed the first stone, a shockwave of energy burst through her.
Her skin glowed.
Veins of gold light erupted beneath her flesh, spreading like cracks in porcelain. Her body lifted a few inches off the ground, hovering, her eyes wide and burning with light. Her breath hitched, and her mouth parted in a silent scream.
The second stone rolled forward and touched her thigh.
The third floated toward her chest like it knew.
And her body exploded in radiance.
Symbols shimmered across her forearms and down her spine—ancient glyphs made of pure light. Her pendant went haywire, screeching warnings in broken audio—"Energy anomaly—lifeform evolution—host interface—"
A scream of light.
Aarya collapsed.
And Kiran woke.
The entire cave shook as he bolted upright, eyes glowing, muscles flexing, claws half-drawn. "AARYA!"
He stormed deeper into the cave, every sense alert. The scent of her was everywhere—sweet, wild, burning—and then he saw her.
Lying in the center of an explosion of light.
Her body illuminated from within, her skin glowing in gold and stardust. The three stones hovered in the air around her like orbiting moons, pulsing with each of her breaths.
Kiran froze.
It was not fear that rooted him. It was awe.
A creature so fragile—so small—now looked like a celestial star. Her hair lifted as if underwater, and her body floated slightly above the stone floor. Her expression was peaceful but intense, her lips parted, her limbs soft and still, but every inch of her glowed with power.
"What… are you…" he whispered.
Then her eyes opened.
And they blazed.
Aarya blinked rapidly, tears escaping her eyes, her voice trembling: "I don't know…"
The stones dropped.
She collapsed forward into his waiting arms.
He caught her, stunned by the heat in her skin. His hand cupped the back of her head as she buried her face into his chest, shaking with a cocktail of fear, pain, and something else she couldn't name.
Kiran held her tighter, shielding her glowing body from the cave's cold.
"I don't know what's happening to me," she whispered.
Kiran looked at the stones—then at her.
"You're not disfigured," he said hoarsely. "You're something else. Something sacred."
She whimpered softly into his chest.
But deep inside, beneath the panic, the exhaustion, the strange pull of the stones—something else bloomed.
A new energy.
A new self.
And something ancient inside her had finally awakened.
The morning came quietly, painted in alien hues. A false dawn cast violet and silver rays through the cracks in the rock overhead. Within the cave, the three obsidian orbs had dimmed, nestled now inside a pouch Kiran had fashioned hastily from bark-hide and braided moss. Their surface now etched with countless golden veins pulsed with energy but no longer glowed—still their weight was palpable, like they still remembered the explosion they had triggered in Aarya.
She sat beside the fire, her legs tucked beneath her, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her skin still hummed faintly under the layers of hide and fur, faint trails of gold glowing at her wrists and collarbones before sinking back under the surface. She was silent, staring into the fire, her face calm but her mind a storm.
Kiran watched her from a short distance, crouched near the mouth of the cave with his spear across his lap. He hadn't asked her about the light or the floating or the glyphs that danced across her body. He hadn't even asked what those stones were. He simply kept his distance, wary, thoughtful.
But she felt him looking. Again and again. That same tension, like he was trying to solve her.
When the sun broke fully, casting a faint silvery warmth over the landscape outside, Kiran stood.
"We should go," he said softly. "This place is sacred. It… doesn't want us here anymore."
Aarya nodded, her voice still buried under a thousand thoughts. "Where are we going?"
He turned, large eyes meeting hers. "Home. To my brothers."
A chill ran through her chest.
Brothers. Plural.
She stood slowly, her limbs still aching from the night before, the strange sensation of being made of something new. She was herself—but not. Her body felt too light. Her heartbeat too strong. Her thoughts too quick.
She tightened the leather pouch holding the stones to her side, hidden beneath the layers of fur.
As they left the cave, the air outside hit her like a whisper of another world. Cold, thin, and heavy with scents she couldn't name—wet bark, crushed mineral, the ozone-like tinge of power.
The forest had changed.
Where before the trees had been tall and reaching, now they were twisted and claw-like, glistening with dew that glowed faintly violet. The leaves hummed as they passed—an eerie, alien sound, like the breathing of a giant creature.
Kiran led the way, his long strides parting the dense underbrush. He carried his spear casually, the tip coated in what looked like dried black sap. His long hair, smoother than anything Aarya had ever touched, was tied back with a band of bone. His shoulders were massive, moving with animal grace.
Despite her confusion and fear, she followed closely.
She studied him when he wasn't looking. His profile was chiseled, regal even, with high cheekbones, full lips, and the glowing blue veins that traced down his neck and arms like river maps under golden-brown skin. He looked like a god—but not the kind she would worship. The kind she would run from.
Or run to.
They walked for hours.
Birds with translucent wings sang discordant notes high above. At one point, a herd of six-legged deer galloped across a distant clearing, their hooves leaving behind sparks as they ran. The world was alive in ways she didn't yet understand. Sometimes beautiful, sometimes terrifying.
At midday, they stopped to rest near a spring that oozed between rocks the color of oxidized metal. Aarya knelt to drink, her pendant blinking to confirm the water was safe. As she drank, she caught Kiran watching her again.
"You glow when you sleep," he said suddenly.
Aarya choked on the water, wiping her mouth. "What?"
He looked away, almost embarrassed. "Your body… it glowed like the sun caught inside your skin. I thought you would burn. But you didn't."
"I didn't feel it," she whispered. "I just remember… warmth."
"And power," he added, voice low. "I felt it. Even outside the cave. The forest moved with it."
A silence settled between them.
She looked at him, unsure. "Kiran… what am I to you?"
He was quiet for a long moment. Then: "A mystery. A fragile one. But not weak."
His eyes met hers. "You not a child. I know that now. But your body is… foreign. Soft. Unlike anything I've seen. I not know what you are. But you mine to protect."
Her breath caught.
She nodded.
And they walked again.
Evening
The sky had begun to change color again, a deeper violet crawling across the clouds like spilled ink. The forest grew louder—animals calling, trees creaking, the wind shifting with a scent like scorched stone.
They neared a ridge—Kiran paused there.
"Beyond this hill," he said, "is the land my brothers guard."
Aarya peered over.
In the valley beyond, she saw structures. Massive stone formations—like fortress ruins half-swallowed by nature. Giant black pillars, smoke rising from chimneys, strange glowing sigils carved into cliffsides.
She swallowed.
"What if they don't like me?" she asked.
Kiran's jaw flexed. "They won't. But they will listen to me."
That didn't reassure her.
A cold gust swept through the trees.
Aarya pulled her hide-cloak tighter, glancing at the stones beneath her tunic. They pulsed faintly, like her heartbeat.
And from somewhere, far beyond the valley, something pulsed back.
Something aware.
Something waking.