The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and dewdrops clinging to the leaves of the mango tree in Govindan Menon's backyard. Aryan stood barefoot on the grass, his body balanced in a low stance, arms extended as he transitioned smoothly between Kalari movements. The wooden staff in his hands whirled in precise arcs, cutting through the air with a sharp whistle.
Nearby, Smith sat cross-legged on the veranda, munching on a banana and watching Aryan's routine with a mix of admiration and disbelief. "You know," he said between bites, "every time I see you do that, I'm more convinced you're part superhero. How do you even move like that?"
Aryan paused, resting the staff against the ground. "Practice," he replied simply, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Yeah, sure. Ten years of practice might get me halfway there. Meanwhile, you're over here spinning that thing like it's part of your arm," Smith said, shaking his head. "It's not normal, Arya. You've got… something."
Aryan shrugged off the comment, though he felt a flicker of unease. "I've just been focused, that's all. Let's see you try."
Smith held up his hands in mock surrender. "No, thank you. The last time I tried, I nearly broke my wrist. I'll stick to being your moral support."
As Aryan returned to his training, a coconut fell from the nearby tree with a loud thud. He turned instinctively, catching it mid-air with one hand before it hit the ground. The movement was so fast and fluid that it startled even him.
"Okay, now that was definitely not normal," Smith said, his eyes wide. "Seriously, Arya, are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I have to start interrogating you?"
Aryan set the coconut on the ground and avoided Smith's gaze. "There's nothing to tell," he said lightly. "I'm just… eating well and exercising more."
Smith narrowed his eyes but didn't press further. "Fine. But remember, I'm here if you need to talk. You've been different lately—more focused, sure, but also more distant. Whatever it is, you don't have to carry it alone."
Aryan glanced at his friend, a pang of guilt tugging at him. "Thanks, Smith. I'll let you know if there's anything you can help with."
Later in the day, Aryan shifted his attention to his studies. Sitting under the shade of the mango tree, he flipped through pages of textbooks, absorbing information at a pace that would have seemed impossible just weeks ago. Concepts that once took hours to grasp now clicked into place within minutes. He felt a clarity of thought that was almost unsettling.
Smith wandered over, carrying a stack of mock test papers. "Let's see how fast your genius brain can tackle these," he said, dropping them onto the table with a thud.
Aryan smiled. "You're relentless, aren't you?"
"It's my job to keep you humble," Smith quipped, plopping into a chair. "Now get to it. Let's see if you can beat your last score."
The two worked through the papers together, their camaraderie punctuated by Smith's sarcastic remarks and Aryan's occasional bursts of laughter. By the end of the session, Aryan had aced the tests, much to Smith's mock frustration.
"You're ridiculous," Smith said, throwing his hands up. "I'm convinced you're a robot."
Aryan laughed. "Or maybe you're just a terrible teacher."
"Fair point," Smith admitted with a grin.
That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Aryan sat cross-legged under the mango tree, his eyes closed in meditation. The world around him grew quiet, save for the rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of crickets. He focused inward, searching for the energy he had felt during previous sessions.
It came to him gradually, a faint pulse radiating from his core. This time, it was stronger, more defined. The energy flowed through him, reaching out to his surroundings. He felt the leaves above him sway gently, though there was no breeze. Nearby, Timmy shifted on his perch, letting out a low cry, and Jimmy lifted his head, his ears alert.
Aryan opened his eyes, the sensation lingering. He glanced at Timmy, whose sharp gaze met his own. The eagle's piercing eyes seemed to hold a depth that went beyond mere instinct. Jimmy padded over, resting his head on Aryan's lap, as though sensing his thoughts.
"What are we becoming?" Aryan whispered, stroking Jimmy's fur. The dog looked up at him with unwavering loyalty, and for a moment, Aryan felt a surge of determination. Whatever this energy was, it was a part of him now, and he needed to understand it fully.
The next morning, Aryan set out for a jog through the village, his mind still buzzing with the events of the previous night. The rhythmic sound of his footsteps on the dirt path was grounding, a reminder of the simplicity of life in Meenangadi.
As he passed a cluster of houses, he heard a sharp cry for help. Turning the corner, he saw a young boy teetering on the edge of an open well. Without thinking, Aryan sprinted forward and leapt over a high fence separating him from the well. The movement was effortless, his body soaring through the air with precision and speed.
He caught the boy just as he lost his balance, pulling him back to safety. The boy's mother ran over, tears streaming down her face as she embraced her son.
"Thank you, Arya," she said, her voice shaking. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been here."
Aryan smiled gently. "I'm just glad he's safe."
As he walked away, he noticed a small crowd had gathered, their murmurs of admiration following him. He felt their eyes on him, a mix of awe and curiosity. Aryan kept his gaze forward, his thoughts racing. The leap had felt natural, instinctive, but the ease with which he had done it left him questioning the true extent of his abilities.
Back at Govindan's house, Aryan sat on the veranda, deep in thought. Timmy perched nearby, preening his feathers, while Jimmy lay at Aryan's feet, snoring softly. The quiet evening brought a sense of calm, but Aryan knew it wouldn't last. Whatever this power was, it was growing, and with it came responsibilities he was only beginning to understand.