NARAK: The Blood Covenant

The Reflected Sanctum was gone.

Just... gone.

Not shattered. Not collapsed.

Erased.

Like a page torn out of reality's notebook and burned mid-sentence.

Vicki Arana opened his eyes to nothingness.

Not darkness. Not emptiness. Something worse.

The after.

It felt thick. Like a memory with teeth. It clung to his skin like wet ash.

His chest rose and fell erratically, lungs unsure if they belonged to a person anymore.

He tried to speak. Nothing came out.

Tried again.

"Avici?"

Silence.

No whisper in his bones.

No presence pressing at the back of his skull like a loaded gun.

Just stillness.

Outside the Sanctum, the mirror had gone dull.

The silver sheen turned matte. Like someone had flipped reality to grayscale.

Anata Dharma stood motionless. Ledger closed. Smile gone.

Nayla paced in a spiral tight, aggressive. Her boots tapped like a ticking metronome. Her hands were clenched so tight her knuckles had no color left.

"He should be back by now."

Raka stood closest to the mirror. Eyes wide, throat dry.

"You said he could make it. You said he had a chance."

"I said exactly that," Anata replied calmly. "A chance. Not a promise."

"Don't do that," Nayla snapped. "Don't do that neutral, untouchable, shadow-bastard thing right now."

"Then don't mistake my calm for cruelty."

"So what, we just wait?"

"Or," Anata offered, "we leave him. The Vessel was only ever a placeholder. There are others."

"Go to hell," Raka muttered.

"Hell has better etiquette."

Back inside the void, Vicki stood up.

Or thought he did.

The space wasn't real. It bent around him. Glass shards floated like snow, suspended in a dream that hadn't been fully committed to.

He saw himself in a thousand angles. None accurate.

His shadow walked beside him, not behind. And it was smiling.

"You called him."

Vicki turned.

There it was again.

Him.

The broken mirror-self. Arvanu Shura's vessel. Smiling like a dead god who remembered how to taste blood.

"You think he will save you?"

"He always did."

"No," the reflection whispered. "He replaces you."

A step forward. Glass cracked beneath its feet without sound.

"You're just the hallway. He's the key. He doesn't protect you. He uses you to get back in."

"He's still mine."

"No," Arvanu said. "He's anyone's the moment you forget yourself."

Then.

The ground buckled.

A mirror cracked open below.

And memories crawled out like spilled intestines.

Vicki, 6, locked in the school infirmary, whispering to a shadow.

Vicki, 9, staring into a mirror that blinked before he did.

Vicki, 13, crying after hearing his mother forget his name during a phone call.

Each fragment bled into the void. He could feel them leave.

"You're eroding," Arvanu whispered. "You lose your name, and I get the body."

"I'm still here."

"Not for long."

The mirrors pulsed. One shard glowed red-hot.

A glyph burned itself onto the floor.

Vicki fell to his knees, clutching his head. His skull throbbed like it was trying to be born again.

And then—

A whisper.

"…vessel…"

Faint. Fractured. But there.

"Avici?"

"…bind… damaged… memory leaking…"

"Where are you?!"

"…forgetting…"

The sigil pulsed once.

Then faded.

Outside, Nayla collapsed to one knee.

"He's in trouble."

Raka grabbed her arm.

"You heard him?"

"Barely. He's... losing cohesion."

"Then we go in."

"You can't," Anata said. "Not until he remembers."

"Remembers what?"

"His name. Not the guardian's. His own."

Inside, Vicki's memories circled him like a carrion bird.

"You want out? You want your little flame daddy back?"

"Screw you."

"Then stand up. Say it. Say your name. Reclaim your self."

The glass floor trembled. Cracks spiderwebbed in every direction.

Vicki looked into the nearest reflection.

It wasn't Avici.

It wasn't Arvanu.

It was just him.

Sweating. Breathing hard. Bruised.

But him.

"I'm not just a vessel."

"Then show us."

"My name... is Vicki Arana!"

He screamed it.

"I remember who I am!"

The sigil flared.

And Avici's voice returned—louder than ever. Like fire in cathedral halls.

"Then take me back, Arana. Speak it. Reforge the bond."

"I am Arana Vicki, the vessel, command you with sacred blood covenant! AVICI NARAK!"

Then red flame come from the mirror floor where he standing, it covers his body and then burst everywhere. 

The void collapsed.

The seal reactivated.

And the mirror—back in the physical world—exploded outward in a blast of red light.

Vicki fell forward into Raka's arms, gasping.

His eyes flickered. Once. Twice.

Alive.

Barely.

Nayla dropped beside him, already scanning vitals.

Anata tucked his ledger back into his coat.

"Two seals down."

He smiled.

"Eleven to go."

"And now…" he whispered to himself, walking into the smoke.

"Now the game begins."

Vicki lay still in Raka's arms, like a ragdoll that had just been taught the meaning of gravity. His fingers twitched like something was trying to get out from under his skin.

"He's stabilizing," Nayla said, crouched beside them. "Pulse is erratic. Core temperature's… wrong."

"Wrong how?" Raka asked.

"Like he's part of fire hazard now."

Vicki's eyes fluttered open.

"...please tell me this is the nurse's office."

"Sorry bro," Raka muttered. "No lollipops here."

"Damn."

He sat up slowly, every bone he has slowly cracking like old branches. The hallway around them was scorched—literally. The mirror that once led to the Reflected Sanctum now lay in shards, each piece humming faintly like it still remembered.

Anata Dharma stood at a distance, watching.

Not intervening.

Not helping.

Just… observing.

Vicki noticed.

"You're awfully chill for a guy who almost watched me die."

"You didn't die," Anata said. "You recalibrated. Small difference. Big consequence."

"Can't wait to read the Yelp review."

Anata tilted his head.

"Your soul was overwritten by a parasitic echo. You burned it out by screaming your name into the void. I'd say that deserves four stars at least."

They moved to the abandoned astronomy dome on the north wing. It was the only place quiet enough for their next conversation and far from anything with mirrors.

Raka dropped his bag and slumped beside a cracked telescope.

Nayla brought up a projection of Class XI-C's attendance history.

Seven names were still missing.

The eighth had just returned.

Vicki.

"So what the hell was that thing?" he asked.

"Your reflection," Nayla replied. "But infected. Saturated with whatever Arvanu is."

"He looked like me."

"He wasn't you," Raka said.

Vicki nodded. Slowly.

"No. But he knew too much."

He looked at his hand. The skin was faintly glowing.

Just barely.Just under the surface.

"He said something before everything broke."

"What?"

"That Narakasura... sees me now."

The silence after that sentence had teeth.

Anata finally spoke.

"Then the second seal wasn't just damaged. It was touched."

"By what?" Nayla asked.

"Not what. Who." His voice dropped slightly. "Narakasura is still bound. But the cracks in the vessel allow dreams to pass."

"Dreams?"

"Echoes. Warnings. Promises. Choose your poison."

"Can he reach Vicki?"

"Only if Vicki listens."

They all turned to him.

Vicki was silent.

Later that night, in the dorms, Vicki lay awake in the dark.

He didn't dream.

He remembered.

Every time he blinked, he saw glass.

Every time he inhaled, he tasted ash.

And somewhere beneath his thoughts, Avici whispered.

"You fought well."

"I almost lost."

"But you remembered yourself. That's all that matters."

"Arvanu's still out there."

"He always was."

"He said Narakasura sees me now."

"Then we move faster."

In the room across the hall, Raka couldn't sleep either.

He stared at the ceiling fan like it owed him money then grabs his phone.

"Nayla?"

"Yeah?"

"You think he's okay?"

"No."

"Cool. Just checking."

Somewhere deep in the school, where no maps led and no lights reached, a crack in the wall widened.

Whispers slithered out.

Not in words.

In names.

Seven.

Already forgotten.

One returned.

Barely.

And one more was fading fast.

In his room, Vicki couldn't sleep

The whispers didn't stop.

Even after the mirror shattered.

Even after Avici returned.

Even after the pain.

They just... shifted.

He sat at the edge of his dorm bed, hoodie pulled over his head, trying to breathe like a normal person. He failed. Every time he closed his eyes, the mirror realm blinked back.

"You're still shaken."

Avici's voice in his head was calm. Almost... careful.

"No shit."

"You saw too much."

"I saw myself lose."

A long pause.

"You remembered your name. You didn't lose. You changed."

A chime broke the silence.

Vicki glanced at his phone.

[ADMINISTRATION ALERT: Student Vicki Arana, report to the Headmaster's Office. Immediately.]

His stomach sank.

"Is that... a thing that happens?"

"Nope," Avici said flatly. "No one gets summoned by the Headmaster. Especially not at night."

Vicki's phone display glitch suddenly, and the message before change a bit.

No alarm.

No ringtone.

Just a silent system override that lit up Vicki's phone with four words:

"Report to Headmaster Narayana."

And below it:

Access Level: Absolute.

Avici's voice hit him immediately.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes?"

"Arana… that name hasn't been uttered in my realm for centuries."

"What realm?"

"The kind that bleeds when people like him speak."

Fifteen minutes later, Vicki stood outside the forbidden East Wing.

No guards.

No cameras.

No noise—just that uncanny kind of silence where even your heartbeat starts asking questions.

The doors opened before he touched them.

And the air changed.

It was warmer.

Denser.

Older.

The office wasn't an office.

It was a vault.

Tall obsidian walls ringed with sigils that floated in mid-air like constellations. One long path led to a raised platform.

And waiting at its center stood a man.

Perfect posture.

White-on-black formalwear that looked stitched from words instead of thread.

Eyes the color of funeral fire.

He turned. Slowly.

"Welcome, Vicki Arana."

His voice was measured. Deep. Crisp.

"I've been meaning to meet the boy who broke the second seal."

Vicki's throat dried out instantly.

"You're... the headmaster?"

"Among other things," Narayana replied, stepping forward. "I also write poetry. Badly. But I try."

"Oh. Cool. Great. Can we pretend I'm not terrified right now?"

"No," he said kindly. "Fear keeps things honest."

Inside Vicki's head, Avici stirred again.

"Don't say a word. Let me see him more clearly—"

"You can't hide in his ribcage, Oathbound," Narayana said aloud, to no one.

Vicki blinked.

"Wait—who are you talking to?"

Narayana smiled.

Then, without moving his lips, he spoke again—but only Avici heard it.

"It's been a while, flame-spawn. Still dramatic, I see."

Avici nearly froze.

"…You can hear me?"

"Telepathy isn't exclusive to you and the dead. We just don't like using it on amateurs."

"…How?"

"Because I am blood of the one who sealed your master."

"Okay what the actual HELL—"

"Language," Narayana said aloud.

Vicki flinched. "Sorry?"

"Not you."

Avici grumbled.

"I don't like him."

"I love that you don't."

They arrived at the center of the platform.

Narayana stepped forward.

The platform responded beneath his feet—sigils flaring gently.

"I am the last living descendant of the one who sealed Narakasura."

"You're... the line of the Sealer?"

"Yes. And this school was built not to teach... but to contain."

A glyph hovered between them. Vicki recognized it—it had changed since the Reflected Sanctum. The seal now had a fracture running through its edge.

Narayana's expression darkened slightly.

"You felt him, didn't you?"

"Narakasura?" Vicki asked.

"No." He looked him in the eye. "You. You felt yourself being rewritten."

Vicki didn't answer.

He didn't need to.

Then, quietly:

"Why am I here?"

Narayana looked toward the ceiling though there was none.

Just dark stars floating above them.

"Because you are no longer just a Vessel."

"Then what am I?"

"A variable."

He turned back.

"You carry power that obeys you, but you also carry doubt. That is a dangerous combination."

"You don't trust me."

"I don't trust anyone whose soul fractures on command."

"Wow. Thanks for the pep talk."

Narayana smiled faintly again.

"You're not here to be praised. You're here to be warned."

"About what?"

"Your mirror is not done with you."

At that moment—

Vicki's vision blurred.

Not from exhaustion. Not from pain.

From something inside him.

Cracking.

He fell to one knee.

His reflection—just for a flicker—appeared in the surface of the obsidian floor.

Smiling.

Avici screamed inside his head:

"Arana! He's back! SHUT HIM OUT—"

"Too late," Narayana muttered. "The Third Seal is responding to him now."

"Him who?"

"The one that wears your face and calls it truth."

The sigils around the chamber flared.

Red.

White.

And black.

Narayana narrowed his eyes.

"You'll need to choose soon, Vicki."

"Choose what?"

"To be the fire…"

He stepped back.

And shadows rushed in from the corners of the room.

"...or to be what it burns."

Meanwhile, in the Whisper Archive, Anata Dharma opened a sealed file.

One he hadn't dared touch in decades.

He read the name. "Narayana, Vishnu's Vessel"

Smiled.

And said softly:

"So. The old god walks again."