A peaceful morning unfolded over the village. Birds chirped softly, and a gentle breeze stirred the leaves of the trees.

  Sunlight slipped through Dhruv’s wooden window and settled across his face. He jolted awake.

  His breath came unevenly. His chest felt tight. Sweat clung to his shirt.

  Fragments of the dream lingered—shards of shadow, a cracked sky, darkness swallowing everything whole. A voice had called his name. Distant. Familiar.

  But he couldn’t remember whose.

  No faces. No place. Only the crushing weight of loss. Cold. Hollow.

  “Dhruv! Wake up! You’ll be late!”

  His mother’s voice floated up from downstairs—warm and alive. Real.

  “…Okay, Mom,” he murmured. He sat up slowly, pressing a hand to his chest. His heart still raced. Why did it feel so real?

  Even as the details of the dream slipped away, the emptiness remained.

  He ate breakfast quietly, lost in thoughts he couldn’t fully grasp.

  Outside, the village stirred to life—farmers preparing their fields, children running along dirt paths, laughter rising into the morning air.

  Beyond the fields, the towers of Mana Glade Academy pierced the sky. Majestic. Untouchable. A place where power and knowledge reigned above all.

  “Oi! Sky-hair!”

  Dhruv didn’t turn.

  A boy similar in height to Dhruv, with jet-black hair and sharp hazel eyes, jogged up beside him. There was a restless energy about him, as if standing still went against his nature.

  “Morning, Rudra,” Dhruv said calmly.

  “You look like you fought a nightmare and lost,” Rudra said, nudging him playfully.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Dhruv didn’t answer immediately. Rudra noticed.

  “…What happened?”

  “I had a dream,” Dhruv admitted quietly.

  Rudra smirked. “Oh? Romantic dream?”

  Dhruv blinked. “…It wasn’t like that.”

  Rudra laughed. “Then why the serious face?”

  “It wasn’t normal,” Dhruv admitted.

  Rudra’s grin faded slightly. “…What did you see?”

  Dhruv stared at the empty road, trying to catch the memory before it dissolved completely.

  “It felt like everything was gone. The sky… the land… like destruction. And a voice calling my name.”

  “Whose voice?”

  “I don’t know.” His fingers tightened slightly. “But it felt familiar.”

  The wind passed through the fields, quiet and indifferent.

  Rudra shrugged. “You’re overthinking. Maybe it was your future self warning you to study harder.”

  Dhruv almost smiled. “…Maybe.”

  Rudra’s grin returned. “Then I’ll help you forget it.”

  Before Dhruv could react—

  Push.

  Splash.

  Water exploded around him as he fell into the shallow irrigation pond.

  “Now that’s a proper wake-up!” Rudra burst into laughter. A few village children giggled nearby.

  Dhruv rose slowly from the water. Too slowly. His sky-blue hair clung to his forehead. Droplets slid down his face. His expression was calm. Too calm.

  There was something in his eyes—something steady, quiet, almost distant.

  “…Don’t look at me like that,” Rudra muttered, laughter fading.

  Dhruv stepped out of the pond.

  “Run.”

  “What—”

  The surface of the water rippled. Then lifted. A small wave surged forward and splashed straight into Rudra.

  “HEY!”

  Rudra stumbled back, wiping his face. “You cast that!”

  Dhruv stared at his hand. “…I didn’t.”

  There had been no chant. No mana activation. No spell circle. The water had simply moved.

  For a fleeting second, even the birds fell silent. Then the world resumed as if nothing had happened.

  Rudra narrowed his eyes. “That’s not normal.”

  “…I didn’t feel any mana,” Dhruv said quietly.

  The silence between them felt heavier than the water.

  Rudra cleared his throat dramatically. “Great. Now we’re both going to be late for Mana Glade Academy.”

  Dhruv glanced at his soaked clothes. “…This is your fault.”

  “Relax.” Rudra lifted a hand casually. A gentle current of air spiraled around his palm.

  “Heaven’s Lift.”

  The droplets rose from Dhruv’s clothes, spinning upward without tearing the fabric. Within seconds, he was completely dry.

  “Premium wind service,” Rudra declared proudly.

  Dhruv adjusted his sleeve. “You changed the air pressure midway.”

  Rudra blinked. “You noticed?”

  “To avoid damaging the stitching.”

  Rudra stared at him. “…You’re weak in magic, but scary in observation.”

  Dhruv gave a faint smile. “And you’re loud.”

  They resumed walking. The village slowly gave way to brick buildings and a busy town square. Ahead of them, Mana Glade Academy towered like a silent guardian of power and ambition.

  Students laughed. Teachers supervised. Everything looked ordinary. Peaceful.

  But as Dhruv gazed at the academy spire, the unease returned.

  A faint echo of the nightmare.

  A shadow beneath the sun. Waiting.

  He pressed a hand to his chest once more.

  Something was coming.

  And this time… it felt closer.