Christina's trembling voice cut through the chaos. "What's wrong with him?"
Djuma's eyes finally dimmed, and he descended, facing Mike with urgency etched on his face. "They're coming!" he warned, his voice laced with worry.
"Who?" Mike asked, alarm rising.
"Dahra's warriors," Djuma replied, struggling to keep his eyes open. "They're coming for you, my Jyuran."
Christina's determination flared. "Then we fight!"
Djuma swiftly closed the distance, grasping Christina's collar, his eyes blazing with intensity. "Don't put us all in danger, Christina," he urged, his voice low and firm, his teeth clenched. "Your safety and the Jyuran's come first. I'll handle the fighting."
"Let go of her, Djuma! What's going on?" Mike intervened, concern etched on his face.
"What do you mean?" Christina demanded, her gaze searching Djuma's face for answers.
Djuma released his grip and took a step back, his expression grim. "If you don't want your friend to fall prey to dark forces, refrain from reckless actions," he cautioned, his voice barely audible. "Don't jeopardize his sanity. Keep yourself safe, okay?"
Mike's curiosity deepened. "What are you talking about? What do you mean?" he pressed, his gaze darting between Djuma and Christina.
Rachael and Stefan exchanged worried glances, sensing the escalating tension.
Christina's voice trembled. "What's happening, Djuma? What's at stake?"
Djuma's eyes locked onto Mike's. "You're the Jyuran, the key to Perebia's balance. Dahra's forces seek to exploit your power."
The group's confusion and fear hung in the air, as Djuma's words hinted at a darker, more sinister reality.
"What are you talking about earlier about falling prey to dark forces?" Mike insisted.
Djuma dismissed the conversation with a wave of his hand. "It's nothing, my Jyuran. Never mind."
But Mike's keen hearing had already picked up the exchange. "I heard everything you said to Christina. Don't forget, I possess super-hearing," he reminded Djuma, his curiosity never dissipating. "Who would be consumed by dark forces?"
Djuma's expression turned grave. "You wouldn't understand if I explained. You need to unlock your memories as soon as possible," he replied. "Right now the best option is to hide."
Mike shrugged, confidence etched on his face. "Why hide? I'm strong now; I can protect myself."
Djuma's disapproving gaze met Mike's. "You're not strong enough, my Jyuran. The incoming warriors are ruthless and merciless. If they capture you, we're all doomed."
He paused, his voice laced with foreboding. "Heaven knows what destruction would unfold if Dahra lays his hands on his naive father."
Djuma turned to Stefan and Rachael, who had been observing the exchange in silence. "Whatever happens, don't confront them. For the sake of your world and mine, stay safe."
He then shifted his focus to Christina, his voice transitioning to telepathy.
"Christina, the previous Jyuran's downfall was his lover's loss. Don't play hero; flee if danger arises. Your safety is paramount."
Christina's eyes widened in shock, but before she could respond, Djuma continued through their mental connection.
"This is real, Christina. I'm communicating with you telepathically. Keep this secret from the Jyuran. Share your thoughts with me silently; don't speak aloud."
Djuma's telepathic warning hung in Christina's mind, weighing heavily on her conscience.
Christina's eyes widened in astonishment. "Can he really hear what I'm saying?" she thought to herself, seeking verification.
"Of course, Christina. I can hear you," Djuma's prompt telepathic response left her stunned.
Christina stepped back, her mouth agape in disbelief. Her mind reeled with questions. "How is this possible?" she thought.
Djuma's telepathic explanation followed. "I told you, I'm a witch. As long as you open your mind and within five meters, I can communicate with you through telepathy."
Mike noticed Christina's sudden change in expression and approached her, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?" he asked.
"I'm fine, just feeling a bit dizzy," Christina swiftly fabricated an excuse. She turned back to Djuma, her thoughts flowing silently to him. "I'll keep this secret, but you need to explain more so I can understand."
Djuma's telepathic response was laced with urgency. "I'll enlighten you when the time is right. For now, we must prepare your… lover for the incoming warriors."
Christina's mental voice took on a hint of defensiveness. "Why do you keep calling him my lover? We only became friends yesterday," she stated. "Or is your emotions-reading power corrupted?"
Djuma's telepathic tone remained matter-of-fact. "My emotions-reading abilities are accurate, Christina. I sense the bond between you two. Don't deny it; your emotions are palpable."
Christina's cheeks flushed, her thoughts racing with the implications.
"Are you certain you haven't harbored feelings for Mike for a long time, suppressing them beneath a facade of hatred?" Djuma's probing question lingered in Christina's mind.
Christina's silence betrayed her introspection. She pondered Djuma's words, questioning her own emotions.
Stefan's voice broke the contemplative atmosphere. "I have a question!"
The group turned to face him, intrigued.
"If you could locate Mike easily, wouldn't his son, or whatever his name is, also be able to find him?" Stefan asked.
Djuma's expression turned serious. "As a witch, I possess certain advantages. While it would require time and energy, I can sense the Jyuran's unique energy when he utilizes his abilities. However, I can pinpoint his location only when he transforms," he explained, his expression grave. "The warriors dispatched by Dahra can only track him by the distinct energy signature emitted during his transformation."
Rachael's curiosity surfaced. "But Mike has never transformed before. How did you find him?" she asked.
Djuma's gaze met Rachael's. "He transformed once, albeit partially," he responded.
Mike's eyes widened, his brow furrowed in confusion. He narrowed his gaze at Djuma. "When did I transform?" he inquired.
Christina's thoughts still lingered on Djuma's earlier question. Had she truly been suppressing her feelings for Mike? Did she have a genuine reason for hating and picking on him all those years?
Djuma's hesitation was palpable before he responded. "It was the day the Krara was activated. You fell from a towering building, you wouldn't have survived had I not intervened by freezing the time so your wings could emerge," his revelation hung in the air. "Do you remember? That was the first time your wings sprouted out, but you didn't use it because you're not aware."
Mike's eyes widened as the memories resurfaced. "Oh my god! I remember that night. I thought I was hallucinating, but... An orange mist appeared out of nowhere, and time froze, slowing down my descent," he exclaimed. "Are you the one who saved me? You're responsible for that miraculous intervention?"
Djuma nodded solemnly. "Yes, my Jyuran," he replied slowly.
Stefan's curiosity deepened. "But how did you manage that? You mentioned that your homeland is incredibly far away. How did you traverse such distance?" he asked.
Djuma's expression turned introspective. "As a witch, I possess a rare ability – the power to project my soul out of my physical body. This allows me to traverse time and space, defying conventional limitations."
Rachael's eyes sparkled with fascination. "You mean you can do astral projects?"
Djuma shrugged. "I don't know what that means, but it's more complex than you think. Only a select few witches can achieve this level of spiritual liberation. It requires immense mental discipline and three or more portions of Gastra," he explained.
"What's Gastra?" Rachael inquired.
"Gastra means magic," Djuma replied. "As I said earlier, though we speak the same language, not all our words are the same."
Stefan's thoughts whirled with questions. "But how did you know Mike was in danger?"
Djuma's gaze met Stefan's. "I sensed his unique energy signature, even from afar. As a powerful witch, I knew it's my duty to protect him," he replied. "Saving him almost got me killed, I was drained of my energy and was unconscious for two days."
"So now it's crucial we keep his transformations concealed," Stefan said.
Djuma nodded. "That's the best thing to do now to keep him and everyone safe," he responded.
Rachael's concern deepened. "For how long? The brother I know would only do whatever he's asked not to," she said.
"Do you have a death wish?!" Mike growled, his frustration palpable. Rachael ignored him, her eyes locked on Djuma.
Christina's thoughts turned to Mike's safety. "And what about his daily life? How will he balance school and these... transformations?"
"I think we'll have to put that on hold for now," Stefan said with a grin. "We've got a world to save, after all." He paused, a mischievous glint in his eye. "And I've got one more question."
The group's attention snapped to him, their faces expectant.
"Relax, don't stare at me like that," Stefan chuckled. "I was just wondering, where's our extraterrestrial friend going to sleep tonight? I doubt your parents would appreciate an alien under their roof."
Mike nodded thoughtfully. "We'll figure something out. We can't leave him out in the open."
"You don't need to worry about me. I'll stay vigilant and keep watch from the roof," Djuma reassured Mike.
Stefan's eyes widened as Djuma turned to him. "And, for the record, I'm not an old man. I'm ninety-six years young."
The group erupted into stunned gasps.
"Ninety-six?!" they exclaimed in unison.
Stefan's gaze locked onto Djuma, incredulous. "You're older than my grandma!"
"Seriously, I'm not old. In human years, I'd be in my mid-40s – middle-aged," Djuma interrupted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice.
Christina breathed out in awe. "Wow, your species lives an incredibly long life. I'm envious."
Rachael's strategic thinking kicked into high gear. "We require a secure, secluded location to train Mike, somewhere utterly inconspicuous and off the radar. Any suggestions?" she asked, seeking input.
Mike hesitated, "Honestly, I'm drawing a blank. The only potential options that come to mind are school and..."
"Home? You can't be serious," Rachael completed his sentence, her tone laced with skepticism. "That's inviting trouble into our lives."
Mike opened his palms, inviting ideas. "I'm open to any viable alternative. Where do you think would be safest from those tracking our every move?"
Rachael pondered for a moment before turning to Mike. "Stefan's house or Christina's would likely be the safest options. It's the last place our pursuers would think to look."
"I don't think that's wise. My siblings and nanny would have a meltdown if we brought this into our home. Plus, my dad has a strict no-strangers policy," Stefan immediately countered.
Rachael swiftly adapted, "In that case, Christina's house becomes our best bet." She turned to Christina, seeking confirmation. "You don't have any objections, do you?"
Christina shrugged nonchalantly. "Actually, no... except my stepmom is always at home, and she might—"
Mike intervened, his tone decisive. "We'll do whatever is necessary at my house; that's final." He turned to Rachael, his expression serious. "This must remain strictly between us. Our parents cannot find out, understand?"
Rachael's expression darkened. "What the heck, Mike? Do you honestly think I'd betray your trust?" she squealed, her voice laced with indignation. "You think I'm talkative? Of course not, I'm not Stefan."
Stefan's eyes widened, interpreting Rachael's words. "Wait, what do you mean by 'you're not me'? Are you implying I'm some kind of talkative traitor who rats out his friends?" His tone dripped with mock offense.
Mike intervened, his voice firm but calm. "That's enough, guys. This isn't the time for petty squabbles. We need to focus on the challenges ahead."
Christina's pale face and downcast eyes betrayed her distress. "I'm... I'm sorry," she stammered. "I feel like I've let you down. Is there anything else I can do to help?" Her voice barely above a whisper.
Mike's expression softened, his tone reassuring. "You don't have to worry, Christina. I understand, okay?" Christina nodded, her eyes still cast downward.
Stefan's curiosity piqued, his gaze darting between Mike and Christina. "What exactly do you understand, Mike? Is there something we're missing?" His question hung in the air.
Just as another heated conversation seemed imminent, a thunderclap rocked the sky, interrupting the tension.
Rachael seized the opportunity to redirect the group. "It's going to pour. We should head back before the school gate closes." She swiftly took off, urging the others to follow.
As they dashed after Rachael, the gentle raindrops pattered against their clothes, soaking them as they slipped into the woods.
Stefan slowed his long strides and turned to Mike. "Will Djuma keep following us like this and freak people out?" he asked, his voice low.
Mike halted and turned back, scanning their surroundings for Djuma's figure. But he was nowhere to be seen.
"Where did he go?" Mike wondered, whirling around.
"He said he'd meet us at home," Christina replied, her voice matter-of-fact.
Mike's confusion deepened. "When did he say that?"
"A few seconds ago, when Rachael took off," Christina replied.
Mike's eyes narrowed. "How come I didn't hear? Is my superhearing malfunctioning?" he muttered to himself.
Christina's response was casual. "You must've heard, but didn't listen. It was a whisper, anyway."
Stefan chimed in, "Come on, let's go. I'm getting drenched."
Mike nodded. "No problem, I shouldn't make a big deal out of it. Let's go," he said and continued off.
As they resumed running, Christina and Stefan fell into step beside Mike.
Unbeknownst to Mike, Djuma had communicated with Christina telepathically earlier. She had to keep the secret hidden, so she fabricated a plausible explanation.