After I left the forest of Master Sylas Thorn, my heart felt lighter, but my thoughts grew heavier. I had learned to hear the whispers of the earth, yet sometimes I couldn't trust my own senses anymore. Was what I saw truly real—or merely another reflection of the island's mystery?
When Elder Aarion found me sitting by the silver river one afternoon, I asked him honestly, "Master... how can I know if anything I see is true?"
He smiled faintly, as if he had been waiting for that question. "To find truth, Mukul, you must walk through illusion. The next master will show you how to see with more than your eyes."
He pointed toward a valley covered in mirrors—rivers of glass and crystal that caught the sun and shattered it into a thousand reflections. "There," he said, "lives the one who sees through everything."
By evening, I reached that valley. Light played tricks on me. Sometimes the path looked close; other times, it disappeared entirely. Every step felt like walking through a dream. Finally, when I reached the largest mirror at the center, I saw a reflection staring back that wasn't mine.
The man I saw in it stood tall, draped in robes of deep violet lined with silver. His long white hair hung loosely to his shoulders, and his eyes were… strange. One shimmered blue like a clear sky, the other golden like sunlit water. As I blinked, he stepped out of the mirror as if crossing a door.
"So, the boy of seven stars finally arrived," he said, his voice smooth and mysterious. "You may call me Master Zephyr Kaine—the Weaver of Illusions."
Elder Aarion's echoing voice filled the still air. "Zephyr Kaine—once called The Lord of Reflections. He crafted illusions so powerful that kings feared his name. Some said he could paint reality itself. In other worlds, he pioneered virtual cognition—the merging of mind, image, and energy. But even geniuses lose themselves in their own dreams."
Zephyr smiled faintly, tapping his chin. "We all create mirages of ourselves, Mukul. I just learned how to make mine visible."
That was how my eighteenth apprenticeship began.
Master Zephyr's domain was unlike any other. It wasn't made of stone or wood—it changed constantly. One moment it looked like a palace of glass; the next, a field of stars. Every object seemed to breathe. He said, "This is a realm between thought and light. Here, imagination becomes form."
He taught me first the Ancient Art of Maya Vision—a secret form of mental projection once practiced by mystical oracles. "The world around you," he said, "is not solid. It bends with will. Every illusion begins inside the mind before it touches sight."
To prove it, he made me stand before twenty mirrors. "Think of fire," he said. When I did, the mirrors flickered red, waves of heat washing over me. "Now think of calm," he whispered. Instantly, the fire faded into soft rain.
"The mind doesn't see—it creates," Zephyr explained. "Control your thoughts, and the world obeys."
But he didn't stop at mysticism. His modern teachings were even stranger. Inside his temple floated several spheres—devices that projected entire worlds of light and sound, like holograms alive with detail.
"This," he said, "is the science your people call virtual reality. But even without machines, humans already live inside one. Modern illusions are mere extensions of ancient lies."
He connected my temple to one of those glowing spheres, and suddenly I was standing in a complete replica of Aarvak Island. Every breeze, sound, and shadow felt real. But when I looked closer, the sky cracked like glass—it was all illusion.
"This is perception engineering," he said, appearing beside me. "Illusion used to heal, train, and teach. It can create beauty—or slavery."
Every lesson pushed my senses further. He blinded me with light and told me to walk safely by listening instead. He surrounded me with whispering shadows and ordered me to find the truth hidden among them. When I hesitated, he simply said, "Doubt is the sharpest illusion of all. It makes you blind while you still believe you can see."
Once, during training, I grew frustrated. "If everything can be made to look real," I shouted, "then how can anyone find truth?!"
He stared at me for a long moment, then smiled sadly. "The truth, Mukul, isn't what the eyes see—it's what doesn't change when illusions fade."
His words echoed in me for days.
That night, he sat by a lake whose surface reflected both stars and darkness. "I came to Aarvak to remember what was real," he said softly. "In one of my worlds, I perfected illusions so perfect they replaced reality itself. No wars, no pain—only peace. But that peace was hollow. The people forgot how to dream for themselves."
He looked at me, his eyes gleaming with sorrow. "So I destroyed everything I created and exiled myself here—to find truth in imperfection."
From then on, his teachings became gentler yet deeper. He showed me how to use illusion to reveal truth, not hide it. "A lie can trap minds," he said, "but it can also teach them when you let them break it."
He introduced me to his final discipline — Mirage Balance, a blend of ancient concentration and modern psychology. It trained me to see energy patterns behind illusions, both natural and artificial. Through meditation, I could now sense when reality was being twisted, even in silence.
For my final test, he placed me in a dream world, a place so real I forgot it wasn't. I lived days inside it—trained, laughed, even cried. But one evening, I noticed the stars above didn't move. That's when I realized—it wasn't real.
When I stepped out, Zephyr was smiling knowingly. "You remembered yourself. That's all I ever wanted you to learn."
Before I left his valley of mirrors, he handed me a small crystal shaped like an eye. Inside, endless colors swirled.
"When your path becomes unclear," he said, "close your eyes and look within this gem. It will not show you the world—it will show you yourself. That is the only reality that never lies."
And that was how I met Zephyr Kaine — The Weaver of Illusions, the master who taught me that deception and truth share the same face, that only by knowing falsehood can one cherish sincerity, and that sometimes we must step through dreams to awaken fully.