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URPA

Abhay_Jo
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1 - "The four lands and the first trial"

In "UTTRI", the old grandpa is telling his grandson about all the countries. Grandpa says, "There are four countries in the world. The first one is UTTRI. Uttri was a country of transportation. All the people from Uttri have the power to teleport wherever they can see."

The grandson asks, "Why don't I have this power, then?"

Grandpa replies, "Every person gets their power at the age of five. Your birthday is tomorrow, and you will go tomorrow to ANTREYA, where our god will give you a power according to your future."

Grandson:

"Ok, Grandpa, what about the other countries?"

Grandpa:

"The second one is RACKTAM. The people there are treated terribly, almost like slaves. The king of Racktam, Mohara, was a cruel ruler. You see, every king has more power than an ordinary person, but Mohara abused his power for his own enjoyment and to harass the people. It made Racktam one of the poorest countries, and they even lacked enough Jeshna."

Grandson:

"Jeshna? What is that, Grandpa?"

Grandpa:

"Ah, Jeshna... it's a special food made from rare spices, grains, and herbs. It has healing properties and can even enhance a person's abilities. In Racktam, it was scarce, and the king, Mohara, hoarded it for himself, while the people starved."

Grandson:

"So, Jeshna is more than just food—it has power?"

Grandpa:

"Exactly. It became a symbol of power and cruelty, with the king using it to control the people."

Grandson:

"So, Grandpa, what about the other two countries?"

Grandpa:

"The third country is Pyay. It's the richest and happiest of them all, with a well of Jeshna—a vast storehouse of the rare food. They trade Jeshna, but at a very high price, making it the only country that exports it. Their king is brilliant, working side by side with the people in farming and other tasks. This is why Racktam wants to attack Pyay. The people of Pyay are powerful too—they can control nature, change the weather, and even levitate."

Grandson:

"So, Grandpa, what about the fourth country?"

Grandpa:

"The fourth country is Aridhra, the country of demons. The people there can transform into Morphic Daemons, terrifying, giant creatures of immense power. They're nearly invincible in this form, but they can only stay in it for 30 minutes. After that, they must perform a ritual of demons, a dark ceremony that recharges their powers, but only for a short time."

Grandson:

"Wait, so they can't stay transformed forever?"

Grandpa:

"Correct, but even though their transformation has limits, they are still a force to be reckoned with. However, there's something even more dangerous about Aridhra—its borders are protected by an ancient and deadly law. Only

those with black blood—the true demons—can enter."

Grandson:

"Black blood? What's that?"

Grandpa:

"Yes, black blood is the mark of a demon. Only those born with it can pass through the borders of Aridhra. Anyone else who tries to cross will be burned alive by the very air around the country. The land itself rejects outsiders."

Grandson:

`"So, it's impossible for anyone to enter without black blood?"

Grandpa:

"Well, there is one way, but it's incredibly dangerous. There's an ancient, forbidden ritual that allows a non-black-blooded person to enter Aridhra's borders. It involves sacrificing something precious—a life, a memory, or even an essence of your own soul—and offering it to the land in exchange for a short window of safe passage. But it's a dark and twisted process. Only a few have ever attempted it, and fewer still have lived to tell the tale."

Grandson:

"That sounds horrifying. What happens to those who try?"

Grandpa:

"Most never survive the ritual. The land is cunning—it feeds on the sacrifices. Even if someone completes the ritual, they can only stay in Aridhra for a very brief time, and they will be hunted by the Morphic Daemons who are able to sense the foreign blood. If they are caught, they are never seen again."

Grandson:

"So, even if someone could get in, they would have to deal with the daemons and the borders?"

Grandpa:

"Exactly. It's a death sentence for most. But there are whispers that a few brave—some say mad—individuals have entered Aridhra through this ritual, seeking the power of the daemons, or perhaps to destroy them from within. But none of them have ever returned."

Grandson:

"That's insane! Why would anyone risk it?"

Grandpa:

"Because, my boy, sometimes people are driven by desperation. Aridhra's power is immense. If someone could survive long enough inside, they might learn the secrets of the Morphic Daemons, and perhaps find a way to break their hold over the country. But for now, it remains an impossible, deadly challenge."

Grandson:

"Wow... I never realized how dangerous all these countries are."

Grandpa:

"Yes, they are, my boy. But remember, fear is a powerful thing. It can keep you safe, but it can also keep you from achieving great things. Now, it's getting late. Go on, get some rest."

Grandson:

"Alright, Grandpa... goodnight."

Grandpa:

"Goodnight, my brave one. Go and sleep well. And don't let these stories weigh on your mind too much. There's still a lot of adventure ahead of you, and a bright future waiting for you tomorrow."

(Grandpa gives him a loving hug.)

(NEXT DAY)

(Grandpa and his grandson stand in a long line, surrounded by other families. The atmosphere is tense, as everyone waits for their turn to receive powers. The sun is setting, casting an orange glow across the sky. The grandson looks up at his grandpa, a mix of excitement and nervousness in his eyes.)

Grandson:

"Grandpa, how much longer until I get my powers?"

Grandpa:

"Not much longer, my boy. Soon, you'll receive your power, and I... I will be free."

Grandson:

"So, I'll look like you?"

Grandpa:

"Yes, after you get your powers, your skin will turn yellow. Your hair will disappear forever, and your hands will turn black. Two lines will appear beneath your eyes. When you use your powers, those lines will slowly disappear, but after resting, they will return, and so will your strength."

Grandson:

"But, Grandpa, what about Yukta? She didn't get any powers, and now... she's vanished. No one can see her anymore."

(Grandpa's face suddenly stiffens. His hands tremble slightly as he wipes sweat from his brow. He looks around quickly, his mind racing. The other families in line are too busy talking amongst themselves to notice the change in his demeanor.)

Grandson:

"Grandpa? Why do you look so worried?"

(Grandpa takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He doesn't want his grandson to know the truth about what happens to children who fail to gain powers. His heart races as the memory of Yukta's disappearance gnaws at him.)

Grandpa (thinking to himself):

He can't know about the Hackle Room. If he learns about that place... I can't let him know the truth.

Grandpa:

"Yukta... she must have been chosen differently, my boy. Maybe she didn't receive the powers she was meant to. The process is complicated, and sometimes... it doesn't work out for everyone. But we have to trust that things will be alright."

(The grandson looks up at his grandpa, sensing that something is wrong but not understanding what. Grandpa's voice cracks slightly as he forces a reassuring smile.)

Grandson:

"So, you think she's still out there somewhere?"

Grandpa:

"I... I don't know, my boy. Sometimes, the journey with powers is unpredictable. It's just part of it. But we must stay hopeful. All we can do is trust the process and focus on what lies ahead."

(Grandpa wipes more sweat from his brow, his nerves getting the best of him as the line slowly moves forward. The grandchild's words about Yukta keep echoing in his mind, and he knows he can't let his grandson learn about the Hackle Room, the place where children deemed unworthy of power are taken and forgotten. It's a dark,

forbidden truth.)

Grandpa (thinking again, urgently):

If he finds out... It's better if he never knows. I'll protect him from this truth, no matter what.

(As they move closer to the front of the line, Grandpa places a hand on his grandson's shoulder, trying to stay calm despite his inner turmoil.)

Grandpa:

"Now, remember, my boy. No matter what happens, I'll be with you. You'll get your power, and you'll be just fine."

(The grandson smiles at his grandpa, reassured by his words, though he still feels a sense of unease. They move forward in the line, closer to the ceremony where their lives will change forever.)

(Grandpa and his grandson finally reach the top of the towering mountain, where the power source is located. As they stand at the peak, the grandchild's eyes widen in awe, taking in the breathtaking view.)

Grandson:

"Wow, Grandpa, this place... it's like heaven!"

Grandpa:

"We are standing on top of the whole world, my boy. This is the highest point in the world, a place called Antreya."

(The grandson turns toward the glowing power source, his eyes fixated on it.)

Grandson:

"Look at that, Grandpa! It looks like a shield."

Grandpa:

"Yes... that's exactly what it is. Our ancestors, when they were struggling to survive, asked the great god Kroha for help. And it was here, in this very place, that Kroha answered. He gifted us the power that has shaped our civilization ever since."

(The power source itself is a magnificent sight. It is shaped like the front of a massive shield, radiating with intense yellow rays that stretch high into the sky. The air is thick with energy, a powerful aura that seems to hum and vibrate in the air. As the sun begins to set, the rays intensify, glowing brighter as the light reflects off the shield's surface, casting a warm, golden hue across the entire area. The power fills the land, its glow slowly spreading outward, enveloping everything in its reach.)

Grandson:

"It's so beautiful... I can feel the energy all around us."

Grandpa:

"That energy is what keeps our people strong, keeps our civilization alive. It's the gift of Kroha, and it's why we have the power that we do. When you receive your power,

you'll be connected to this source, and you'll feel its strength flow through you. But remember, it's a power that must be respected. It's not just a gift—it's a responsibility."

(The power source glows even brighter as the last rays of the sun dip below the horizon, casting a glowing aura over the whole area. The grandson stands in awe, feeling the immense presence of the energy, knowing that soon, it will be his turn to connect to it.)

(The sky is dimming as the two Celestial Guardians stand tall beside the glowing Antreya power source. The atmosphere is filled with an aura of anticipation as the grandson eagerly prepares for the ritual. The Guardians motion to a bed-like structure positioned in front of the powerful shield.)

Celestial Guardian:

"Child, you must sleep on this bed in front of the power source. Rest, and the power of Kroha will flow to you."

(The grandson looks up at his grandpa with excitement, his heart racing in anticipation of receiving his powers. He nods eagerly and climbs onto the bed, laying down with his eyes closed in excitement. The old monk, the one who performs the rituals, steps forward, his voice solemn and commanding.)

Old Monk:

"My lord, Kroha, hear my call. Come here, and bestow your powers upon this child, that he may carry your

blessing into the future."

(The ritual begins. The monk chants in an ancient language, the words vibrating through the air. As he calls upon Kroha, the power source pulses, glowing brighter with each passing moment. The grandson's hair starts to lose its luster, slowly turning dull and weak, as if it's being drained of its strength.)

(The Celestial Guardians stand silently, watching over the ritual, their expressions unreadable. But as time passes, something begins to go wrong. The skin of the grandson does not turn yellow. His hair continues to fall out, and his hands remain unchanged. The monk's chanting falters as he performs the ritual again, but nothing happens.)

Old Monk (nervously, under his breath):

"Something is... wrong."

(He continues the ritual a second time, but still, the grandson's skin does not change. The aura around the power source dims slightly, and the Celestial Guardians exchange disappointed glances.)

Old Monk (in a quiet voice, as if speaking to himself):

"The god has not chosen him for his blessings."

(The Celestial Guardians look down at the grandson, their faces a mix of disappointment and pity. The one on theleft speaks softly but with a deep sense of sadness.)

Celestial Guardian (Left):

"He is not worthy. His fate has been sealed."

Celestial Guardian (Right):

"His soul does not align with Kroha's will."

(The Guardians move toward the grandson. He lies there, confused, not understanding what is happening. Suddenly, the Guardians reach out and grab his hands. The energy around him shifts, and he can feel something unnatural pulling him. Fear washes over the grandson as the Guardians lift him off the bed.)

Grandson (frantic, crying out):

"Grandpa! What's happening? Help me!"

(The Grandpa watches in horror as his grandson is taken by the Guardians. His old heart races, and his breath becomes shallow with panic.)

Grandpa:

"No... No! Not him!"

(Grandpa realizes with a sickening certainty that they are taking his grandson to the Hackle Room—a place where children who are not chosen for the blessing are abandoned, forgotten, and lost. Without thinking, Grandpa reaches for his power, using all his remaining strength to teleport toward his grandson. He vanishes in a flash, trying

desperately to save him.)

(But Grandpa is old, and the Celestial Guardians are too powerful. As Grandpa reappears, trying to catch up, the Guardians strike him down, beating him back with force that sends him sprawling. He struggles to rise, but he is too weak. The Guardians hold the grandson tightly and continue their march.)

Grandpa (in agony, shouting with all his might):

"Ankrit! My dear Ankrit!"

(The grandson's cries grow faint as the Hackle Room doors begin to close, sealing the fate of the child. Grandpa, heartbroken, watches helplessly as the doors shut. He tries to move, but his body won't obey. His voice cracks as he calls out for his grandson one last time.)

Grandpa (through tears, voice breaking):

"Ankrit... I'm so sorry, my boy. I tried..."

(The doors to the Hackle Room close with a heavy, final thud. The last rays of sunlight fade, leaving the place in

aneerie, suffocating silence. Grandpa is left on the ground, powerless and broken, his mind reeling from the loss of his beloved grandson.)