The Varaksha’s Curse

The days that followed were unlike anything Kiran had ever experienced. The forest, which once felt like a battlefield, now seemed alive with purpose. He could feel it in the air, in the ground beneath his feet, and most of all, in the bond he now shared with the Varaksha.

Their training began at dawn. The Varaksha stood tall and imposing in the clearing, its golden scales catching the first rays of sunlight. Kiran approached cautiously, his bow strapped across his back and his heart heavy with doubt.

"You must shed the fear you carry," the beast's voice echoed in his mind. "It blinds you to the power within."

Kiran frowned, crossing his arms. "I'm not afraid. I've been hunting since I could walk. What do you think I'm afraid of?"

The Varaksha's eyes glimmered with something between amusement and patience. "You fear yourself. Your past. The truth. Until you face these, you cannot wield the power of the Watchers."

Kiran wanted to argue, but deep down, he knew the Varaksha was right. He had spent his life running from the fire that had claimed his village, from the memories of his family's screams. He had buried his pain beneath a veneer of confidence, but now, there was no hiding.

"Fine," he said, rolling his shoulders. "What do I have to do?"

The Varaksha stepped closer, its massive form radiating a quiet strength. "First, you must connect with the earth. The power of the Watchers comes from the world itself—its life, its energy, its pain. Close your eyes and listen."

Kiran hesitated but obeyed, closing his eyes and standing still. At first, all he could hear was the wind rustling through the trees and the distant chirping of birds. But as he focused, something deeper began to emerge—a low, thrumming vibration, like the heartbeat of the forest.

"Do you feel it?" the Varaksha's voice came softly.

"I think so," Kiran replied, his brow furrowing. The sensation was faint but undeniable, a pulse that seemed to echo in his chest.

"Good. That is the life force of this world. It flows through you as it flows through me. The Watchers were chosen because they could harness this energy, shaping it into strength, into power."

Kiran opened his eyes, curiosity mingling with apprehension. "How do I harness it?"

The Varaksha unfurled one massive wing, pointing to a nearby boulder. "Strike it."

Kiran blinked, confused. "Strike it? With what? My fists?"

The beast's gaze sharpened. "With your will. Focus the energy you feel. Let it flow through you, and release it."

Kiran let out a skeptical laugh. "You make it sound easy."

"It is not easy," the Varaksha said firmly. "But it is possible. You are a Watcher. Trust in yourself."

Kiran turned to the boulder, its surface rough and immovable. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes again, reaching for that pulse he had felt earlier. It was faint at first, but as he focused, it grew stronger, resonating with his heartbeat.

He extended his hand toward the boulder, imagining the energy flowing from the ground, through his body, and into his palm. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a faint warmth began to build in his chest, spreading outward like the glow of a fire.

With a shout, Kiran thrust his hand forward.

The ground beneath him trembled, and a shockwave of energy erupted from his palm. The boulder shattered into fragments, the force of the blast sending shards flying in every direction.

Kiran stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock. "I… I did that?"

The Varaksha let out a rumbling growl of approval. "Yes. But this is only the beginning. The power of the Watchers is vast, but it requires discipline. If you lose focus, it can destroy you."

Kiran stared at his hand, his mind racing. The warmth had faded, but the memory of the energy lingered. "How did my ancestors control something like this?"

"Through understanding," the Varaksha replied. "They learned to listen, to feel, to respect the balance of the world. Power is not meant to be wielded recklessly. It is a gift, not a weapon."

The days turned into weeks as Kiran's training continued. The Varaksha pushed him to his limits, teaching him not only to harness the energy of the earth but also to control it with precision. He learned to summon shields of energy to protect himself, to enhance his strength and speed, and to connect with the natural world in ways he had never imagined.

But it wasn't just physical training. The Varaksha also guided him through the memories of his ancestors, showing him visions of the first Watcher—a man who had forged the bond with the Varaksha in a time of great turmoil. Through these visions, Kiran began to understand the true purpose of the Watchers: to maintain the balance between the forces of creation and destruction.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Kiran sat beside the Varaksha, his body aching from the day's training. "Why did the bond choose my family?" he asked quietly.

The Varaksha's gaze turned distant, as though it was looking back through the mists of time. "Because your bloodline was pure of heart. The first Watcher sought not power, but peace. It is a rare quality, one that has been passed down through generations."

Kiran looked down at his hands, the faint scars from his hunts a reminder of his past. "I don't feel pure of heart. I've hunted, killed, and lived in anger for so long."

The Varaksha leaned closer, its massive head resting near him. "Your past does not define you. It is your choices now that matter. You are more than a hunter, Kiran. You are a protector."

As the stars began to fill the sky, Kiran felt a strange sense of peace. For the first time, he wasn't just surviving. He was becoming something greater, something he was always meant to be.

But in the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that their training was only the beginning. The world outside the forest was changing, and soon, he and the Varaksha would have to face the forces that sought to tear it apart.

To be continued…