After years of lessons, I had mastered the techniques of ten great masters, yet I felt only at the edge of understanding. Their power lived inside me, blending heart and energy into one. But Master Aarion reminded me gently, "Even the sharpest sword dulls if it stops learning. The next five will not sharpen you—they will enlighten you."
And so, when the morning mist rose over Aarvak Island, I walked toward the Circle of Dawn—the open field between the silver forests where the next masters waited.
Their faces were calm yet strange, their auras brighter, wider, and different. Each of them carried a presence older than time itself.
One by one, they stepped forward to continue shaping my soul.
The Eleventh Master – Elara Sion, The Alchemist of Life and Death.
Her eyes were kind but piercing, like she could see my very heartbeat. Her robes shimmered between black and white—the eternal balance between creation and decay. "You learnt healing from Inara," she said softly. "But healing and death are twin rivers. You will drink from both."
Under her guidance, I learnt that life wasn't about resisting the inevitable—it was about understanding the rhythm of existence. She taught me brews made of rare herbs, techniques that could mend broken energy channels, and even the art of closing pain through will.
But her truest lesson came when I asked, "Why teach death at all?"
She smiled faintly. "Because a true healer saves not only life but also dignity in dying."
From her, I gained the skill of Vital Transference, the ability to give energy from my own heart to another in need, even at cost to myself. It was a gift heavy with responsibility, yet filled with purpose.
The Twelfth Master – Chronos Veyra, The Keeper of Time.
He waited beside the water, silent, patient. His silver hair drifted with the breeze, though the air was still. "Time, he said, "is the cruellest teacher—it kills all its students."
Under him, I learnt rhythm beyond mere seconds. He taught me to hear the minutes in my pulse and to move within the pause between movements.
Through meditation, I entered a trance where I could sense each motion of the wind before it happened, each spark of a falling leaf before it touched ground.
One day, he told me to stop the rain. I looked up, confused—but somehow, I reached into the rhythm of the falling drops and slowed their descent. For an instant, everything froze.
Chronos smiled. "You touched timelessness. Don't abuse it—time lets no hand hold it long."
From him, I learnt temporal awareness, the instinct to move in perfect sync with moments both behind and ahead, to live fully within every breath.
The Thirteenth Master – Lyra Aenor, The Mind Whisperer.
When she arrived, the air lightened. Her voice sounded like wind through glass—soft, clear, honest. "All that you've learnt so far," she whispered, "lives in your mind. But have you learnt to calm it?"
Her lessons were unlike combat or crafting; they were wars fought within thought. She sat me before pools of still water and told me to watch my reflection until it vanished. Only then could I begin.
She taught me how fear hides beneath logic, how anger disguises itself as courage, and how compassion can become weakness if not guarded by reason.
One evening, she pressed her hand over my heart and said, "The strongest mind isn't the one that resists chaos—it's the one that can walk through it and remain kind."
From her, I learnt mental resonance, the gift to sense truth or deceit in emotion, to feel the colours of another's heart without words.
The Fourteenth Master – Aveline Cross, The Architect of Progress.
Her arrival came with music and lightning. Unlike others, she wore tools of invention—metal gloves, crystal wires, and lenses that shimmered with strange light. "To move forward," she said, "you must build."
Her training mixed both ancient and modern. She taught me to bend energy into shape—bridges of light, armour of willpower, even living constructs that could sense emotion.
We built together: small mechanical birds that flew with soul energy, orbs that glowed with healing flames, and weapons forged from the sky itself.
But one day, I failed—a construct broke apart, burning my hands. I fell, frustrated. Instead of helping, she whispered, "Now repair not with tools, but belief."
I closed my eyes and focused; the pieces merged on their own.
Aveline smiled. "Creation listens only to creators who dream."
From her, I learnt Soul Engineering, the power to shape matter using thought and spirit in perfect unity.
The Fifteenth Master – Dragan Voss, The Commander of Shadows.
He was unlike all others—firm, tall, disciplined, with eyes carrying a soldier's silence. Where others taught peace, he taught purpose. "Power, he said, "means little without direction."
His lessons were harsh. He sent me into illusions of wars—into storms of lightning and battlefields of flame—forcing me to lead even when panic clawed my lungs.
"When you doubt," he shouted once during training, "your allies fall. When you hesitate, people die. To command is to protect through clarity."
Under him, I learnt formation combat, strategy, and the grace of leadership—not as authority, but as responsibility.
Before my last day, he looked at me long and hard. "The world beyond awaits you, Mukul. When you lead, remember one thing—every order must carry mercy."
His final gift was Spirit Command, the power to combine my will with others, guiding their energy without taking their freedom.
Together, these five masters stitched another layer into my destiny. Their teachings unlocked what the first ten had built—mind, body, spirit, and heart working as one. The pendant responded to these changes, glowing brighter each day until the rune symbols within it formed fifteen distinct lights.
One evening, as I stood before the silver tree, the island's energy wrapped around me like a quiet wind. From within the pendant, the tower's voice whispered once again:
"Fifteen lights awakened. Five more to complete the circle."
Master Aarion appeared behind me, his golden eyes reflecting the stars above. "You see now why each circle strengthens the next," he said. "When all twenty awaken in you, not even the river of time will keep you from crossing the realms."
I looked down at the glowing pendant. "Then I will keep climbing until they all shine."
Aarion smiled faintly. "Remember, Mukul, the star that shines brightest burns fastest—learn balance, not haste."
The night breeze carried his words through the forest, and the moon painted my path in silver light.
In the quiet heart of Aarvak Island, surrounded by twenty masters and a thousand lessons, I felt destiny breathing closer.
The next circle was waiting—and somewhere, in another world, the stars above my family's home aligned again.
Far apart, yet tied forever by unseen threads.
And under the whispering sky, I whispered back, "I'm coming, everyone. Just a little further."