Shadowflame rising

The wind howled against the jagged cliffs. Clouds rolled over the mountain like waves, swallowing the sun in their cold shadows.

Daksha stood alone at the edge.

His one arm hung limp. His legs bruised, blood trailing from where the skin refused to heal fast enough. But that wasn't why he was broken.

He looked down at the abyss below.

His mind was quiet, too quiet. A stillness filled with only one thought—

"I couldn't protect her. I failed her… I failed them all."

He had survived the Kara Army—but what was the point? Asikini was out there somewhere. And if he stayed near her, they'd come again. His presence would bring death back into her life.

"She'll never be safe with me around…"

He took a deep breath and stepped closer to the edge.

But before his foot could leave the ground, a strong hand gripped his shoulder.

Daksha turned sharply.

It was Asura. Silent, steady, eyes burning with something deeper than anger—grief that chose to live.

Asura spoke.

His voice wasn't loud, but every word hit like a blade.

---

"So… you want to die because you couldn't protect someone?"

"Then stop. And think.

Think about her—the one you lost.

What do you think your death will give her? Peace? A miracle? No.

It'll give her another grave. Another scar."

Asura stepped closer.

"Close your eyes. Picture your family.

Now remove yourself from that picture.

Do you feel that silence? That hole you leave behind?"

He looked straight into Daksha's eyes.

"You think you've failed? Then get back up.

Because you're still breathing, Daksha.

And that means your story isn't over.

You don't honor someone's pain by giving up.

You fight. You protect what you still have.

Because giving up is easy.

But living, even when it hurts...

That's where real strength is born."

---

Daksha's lips trembled. He looked away, jaw clenched. His voice cracked.

"But… what if I already lost everything? My village. My family. Asura… I couldn't protect anyone."

Asura didn't blink.

"Then start preparing to protect what's left.

This war isn't over. And neither are you."

---

For a moment, silence.

Then something inside Daksha—something buried in shame—shifted.

His chest heaved. His heartbeat roared. The air grew heavy.

Suddenly—pain. Fire. Life.

His fingers curled—new fingers.

His missing hand—grew back.

His crushed leg—healed in seconds.

The mark of the Naagvanshya burned on his chest, glowing faintly.

A low breath escaped his lips.

"As a son of the Naagvanshya… I will not give up."

He took a step back from the cliff, standing tall.

"I will rise."

His eyes met Asura's. No fear. No doubt.

Only resolve.

---

From that moment forward, Daksha began his path of rebirth.

Under Master Gharvek, he would train.

He would fight.

And this time, he would become strong enough to protect those who still remained.

Not just as a warrior.

But as a savior.

---