NOVEL NEXT Chapter 18: Ch 17
Chapter 17: Echoes of the Fallen
The dim glow of the trial chamber seemed to pulse with an eerie rhythm, synchronized with Samudra's deepening breaths. Tara and Aryan stood just outside the shimmering portal, their gazes fixed on the faint outline of Samudra's figure. The translucent barrier separating them flickered, revealing flashes of a crumbling palace, a blood-soaked battlefield, and a lone figure standing amidst the chaos.
Tara clenched her fists, her green eyes shadowed with worry. "It's been too long. Why hasn't he come out yet?"
Aryan leaned casually against the wall, his usual smirk replaced by a contemplative frown. "Samudra's trials are never straightforward. The guy's got layers, and each one's heavier than the last."
"But he…" Tara hesitated. She barely knew Samudra, yet the thought of him trapped in his own torment struck a chord she couldn't ignore. "He's strong. He'll overcome this… right?"
Aryan turned to her, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "Strength isn't just about swinging a sword or giving orders, Tara. Sometimes, it's about facing the things you've buried so deep, you forgot they were there. That's what breaks even the strongest of us."
Tara fell silent, her gaze returning to the portal.
---
Inside the Trial
The air reeked of smoke and charred wood, and the distant cries of the wounded echoed across the battlefield. Samudra stood frozen, his royal attire drenched in sweat and blood. Around him, the Gupta Empire's banners lay trampled in the dirt, their golden threads dulled by ash.
He stood atop a hill, his hands trembling as he watched his childhood home—the grand palace where he had once run through marble halls and laughed with his family—engulfed in flames. The inferno roared like a beast, devouring everything he had ever known.
"Samudra," a voice called, soft yet piercing.
He turned, and his breath hitched. Standing before him was his younger self, no more than ten years old, dressed in the simple robes of a boy who dreamed of heroism. His wide, innocent eyes brimmed with tears.
"Why didn't you save them?" the boy asked, his voice quivering. "You're supposed to be the crown prince. The protector. Why didn't you protect them?"
Samudra took a step back, his chest tightening. "I… I tried. I did everything I could—"
"Liar!" The boy's voice shattered into a scream, and the scene shifted. Samudra was no longer on the hill. He was back in the palace courtyard, surrounded by the bodies of his people. Servants, soldiers, children—all fallen, their lifeless eyes staring at him in silent accusation.
"You could have stopped this," the voice continued, echoing from all directions. "You could have been stronger, faster, wiser. But you weren't."
Samudra fell to his knees, his hands clutching his head. The weight of their gazes bore down on him, suffocating.
---
Outside the Trial
Tara paced restlessly, her boots scuffing against the chamber floor. "We can't just stand here! There has to be something we can do."
Aryan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Breaking into someone else's trial isn't exactly an option, Tara. Trust me, if it were, I'd have dragged him out by now."
Her frustration boiled over. "You're acting like this is normal! Like it's just another day for him to suffer alone!"
Aryan's sharp gaze locked onto hers. "You think I don't care? Samudra's more than my prince—he's my friend. But this isn't about us. It's his trial. His demons. If we interfere, we could do more harm than good."
Tara bit her lip, her anger giving way to a heavy, helpless silence.
---
Inside the Trial
"Brother."
The voice was soft, almost tender. He turned sharply, his golden eyes widening. Before him stood his sister, her form shimmering like a mirage. She wore her royal robes, her hair adorned with the jewels of their empire. But her expression was solemn, her gaze piercing.
"You weren't there," she said, her voice cutting through the wind. "You weren't there when we needed you."
Samudra stumbled back, his breath catching. "Sister, I—"
"You ran," another voice interrupted, deeper and colder. His father appeared beside his mother, his figure towering and imposing. "You abandoned your people, your family. You call yourself a prince?"
Samudra clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "I didn't have a choice! They told me to leave, to survive so I could rebuild—"
"You survived," his father spat, his voice filled with disdain. "But at what cost? Look at what you left behind."
A figure emerged from the flames, her regal sari trailing embers as she approached. Samudra's heart sank.
"Mother…" he whispered.
The queen's face was serene, her eyes filled with an unspoken sadness. "My son," she said, kneeling before him. "Why do you carry this burden alone?"
"I failed you," he choked out. "I failed everyone. I wasn't ready to lead, and because of that—"
"You blame yourself for things beyond your control," she interrupted gently. "A leader must bear the weight of their people, yes, but not at the cost of their own soul."
She placed a hand on his cheek, her touch warm despite the chaos around them. "You've carried this pain long enough, Samudra. Let it go."
Tears streamed down his face as the scene began to dissolve. The flames died, the battlefield faded, and the cries of the fallen were replaced by a profound silence.
---
The Voice of Resolve
"Samudra."
It was soft, gentle, but firm. It wasn't his mother or his father, nor was it his own voice. It was something deeper, something ancient.
"You cannot change the past," the voice continued. "But you can choose how it shapes you."
The chaos around him began to quiet, the flames dimming. Samudra looked up, his breathing ragged. In the distance, he saw a figure—a shadowy version of himself, standing tall and proud.
"Do you see?" the voice asked. "The man you can become does not carry the weight of his failures. He carries the lessons."
Samudra's fists unclenched, his body trembling as he stood. He took a deep breath, his golden eyes burning with determination.
"I won't run anymore," he said, his voice steady. "I won't let my past define me. I'll carry it, but I won't let it control me."
The shadowy figure smiled faintly before dissolving into light. The battlefield faded, leaving Samudra standing in the midst of a golden glow.
---
The Return
The portal shimmered, and Samudra stumbled out, his face pale but his eyes steady.
Tara rushed to his side, steadying him with a firm grip. "Samudra! Are you—"
"I'm fine," he interrupted, straightening himself. He managed a small, tired smile. "Thanks for waiting."
Aryan crossed his arms, smirking. "Took you long enough. What, did you stop for a nap in there?"
Samudra chuckled, the sound light yet weary. "Something like that."
Tara studied him, her concern evident. "You don't have to pretend everything's fine, you know."
He met her gaze, his smile softening. "I'm not pretending. I faced what I needed to, and now… I'm ready to move forward."
Aryan clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Good, because we've got one more trial to get through, and I'd rather not be the last one standing."
Samudra raised an eyebrow. "You? Struggle with a trial? I thought you were invincible."
Aryan grinned. "Oh, I am. But let's just say my past has a few skeletons I'm not eager to dig up."
As the trio shared a quiet moment of camaraderie, the chamber began to shift once more.
The golden glow dimmed, replaced by a deep, resonant hum.
Aryan sighed dramatically. "Well, looks like it's my turn. Try not to miss me too much while I'm gone."
Tara rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "Just come back in one piece."
Samudra watched Aryan step into the mist, his golden eyes thoughtful. The weight of his own trial still lingered, but for the first time in a long while, he felt… lighter.