LEGACY OF THE FALLEN

Legacy of the fallen

Chapter 16

"This is your room, you can stay here from now on. My room is beside yours, and at the front is Aman's. He's already fast asleep, so don't make any noise," Tushar said as he opened one of the doors in the hallway.

"That's fine," Aksh replied. "But can you put me down now?"

Tushar blinked, looking down as if just realizing he was still carrying Aksh over his shoulder.

"Oh. Right."

He gently lowered Aksh to the floor. Aksh dusted himself off with whatever dignity he had left.

"You didn't need to carry me, you know," he muttered.

"I'm sorry, it was all so sudden I kinda forgot," Tushar said, rubbing the back of his head with an awkward grin. "And hey, don't forget—if it weren't for me, you'd be in that devil's grip too!" he added with a chuckle, puffing his chest out like a proud hero.

"From tomorrow on it will be hellish training for all of us so have a great sleep, and you can wake me up if you get hungry. I know where all the secret food's stashed in the kitchen," Tushar said, giving Aksh a playful wink as he headed toward his room.

Aksh entered the room.

It was bigger than his entire house back in the slums.

The bathroom was attached, and in the center stood a single bed made of black wood, draped with a soft white bedsheet.

 A matching table sat beside it, meant for studying.

An almirah stood quietly in the corner. Above, a ceiling lamp glowed brightly, lighting up the entire room. The rest of the space was empty.

Aksh opened the almirah. It was already full of clothes, all perfectly his size—and hanging neatly among them was the academy uniform.

So they already knew everything about me even before I stepped into the academy… and they were already sure I would join. I shouldn't trust them so easily. With the amount of resources they're providing me, it would be even weirder if they didn't want something in return.

These were the thoughts clouding Aksh.

"You should trust them. I can't sense any malice from these guys here. And that Arihant brat… he's different. The move he used to teleport—Kalasanchara—that's no simple technique. It was developed by Agnivardhana himself," the deep voice echoed in his mind.

"It takes a lot of Tejas to perform that technique and it is very hard to master, but the version Arihant used… it wasn't just faster—it used a negligible amount of Tejas."

"Do you think Arihant has found out about your presence? Is that why he's helping me?" Aksh spoke in his mind.

"It's impossible to sense my presence unless someone has reached the peak of 9 stars—which I can tell he hasn't. So, there's only a 0.1% chance he's figured it out. But… if it's him, we can't completely rule out the possibility."

"So, what do you think I should do if he knows about your presence?" Aksh asked, his voice barely a whisper in his mind.

"You can't do anything right now. You're too weak," the deep voice responded with a tone of indifference. "Focus on getting stronger. I will assist you with your Tejas training, but first, you need to fortify your body. Only then will you be able to endure the demonic Tejas."

"I'll just sleep for now," Aksh muttered, his voice barely audible. He moved toward the bed, his mind tired from the long day.

As he lay down, the soft, cool moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow on his face. A breeze stirred the air, bringing with it a faint chill that seemed to soothe his restless thoughts. The silence of the room was calming… almost too calming.

His eyes slowly closed. His breathing steadied.

But even in that quiet… something felt off.

A strange pressure crept into the back of his mind—like a whisper he couldn't hear, or a weight he couldn't place. It coiled around his thoughts, dragging them somewhere far away.

Darkness.

And then—

Aksh opened his eyes. He was in a completely different place.

The entire area was a sea of blood, with dead bodies floating in every direction. As Aksh looked up, his breath caught. The moon—so large it seemed fused with the Earth—hung above him, completely red.

His heartbeat quickened.

Lub-dub…

Lub-dub…

Lub-dub…

It pounded harder with each second, like it was about to burst from his chest.

The sea began to rise—first covering his knees… then his abdomen… his chest… his neck— Until it swallowed him whole.

He clutched his chest tightly as the pounding grew unbearable. And then—he started falling—plunging into the endless abyss of blood.

And then— A voice. Distant, but familiar. "You shouldn't be here. It's too early for you."

A hand reached into the blood. Covered in crimson scales, tipped with long, pointed black nails, it grabbed his wrist and pulled him upward.

Aksh's eyes snapped open.

He was in bed. Soaked in sweat. Gasping for breath, heart racing.

Thump thump thump—

"Aksh, wake up! Captain is waiting." Tushar's voice came from outside the door, followed by a knock.

"Are you awake, or should I come inside?" Tushar called from outside.

"No—wait. I'll be out in ten minutes," Aksh replied immediately, his voice still shaky but steady enough to hide the storm inside.

"Hey, old bastard. What the hell was that dream?" Aksh muttered, still catching his breath.

Silence.

He waited.

Nothing.

"Oh, now you want to keep your mouth shut?" he scoffed, dragging a hand through his messy hair. "Fine then. Don't talk."

Still annoyed, he pushed himself up from the bed, grumbling under his breath as he swung his legs over the edge.

He walked into the bathroom and took off his shirt, ready to wash away the sweat clinging to his skin. But just as he reached for the tap, a sharp sting flared in his wrist.

Aksh frowned.

He looked down—and froze.

There it was.

A mark. Four long, faintly red impressions wrapped around his wrist—exactly where that crimson-scaled hand had grabbed him in the dream.

His breath hitched.

That grip—the scaled hand—it had left a mark. This wasn't just a dream.