Aditya stood between the hunters and the fallen beast, his heart pounding as he faced the three men. The cub whimpered at his feet, its tiny body trembling with fear. Aditya clutched the glowing core of the fallen beast in one hand, his other arm raised defensively.
"Stop!" he shouted, his voice trembling but firm. "You've done enough!"
The hunters froze, momentarily stunned by the sudden appearance of a boy. Jagan, the leader, narrowed his eyes, his grip tightening on the mantra scroll.
"Who are you?" Jagan demanded, his voice cold and menacing.
"It doesn't matter," Aditya said, spreading his arms protectively. "I won't let you hurt them anymore."
The wiry hunter laughed, his voice dripping with mockery. "You? A kid? What are you going to do, cry at us?"
Aditya ignored the taunt, his mind racing. He had no weapons, no plan—just his training and the prana energy he had only begun to understand. The heavy bracelets and anklets weighed him down, their presence a constant reminder of his limitations.
The younger hunter, eager to prove himself, charged at Aditya with a dagger in hand. Aditya's instincts kicked in. He sidestepped the attack, using the hunter's momentum against him. With a swift, precise strike to the neck, he knocked the man out cold.
The wiry hunter's laughter died in his throat. "Huh. Maybe the kid's not as helpless as he looks."
Jagan's eyes gleamed with a mix of anger and calculation. "Enough games. Take him down."
The wiry hunter lunged at Aditya, his movements fast and unpredictable. Aditya dodged the first strike, but the second grazed his arm, drawing blood. He stumbled back, his breath coming in short gasps.
"You're outmatched, kid," the wiry hunter sneered. "Just hand over the core, and we'll make it quick."
Aditya's mind raced. He couldn't fight them head-on—not with the weights restricting his movements. He needed to use his prana, but he was still so inexperienced.
Jagan stepped forward, his mantra scroll glowing faintly. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that. But spirit won't save you."
Aditya focused on the prana within him, channeling it to enhance his speed and reflexes. He dodged another strike from the wiry hunter, his movements sharper but still sluggish under the weight of the bracelets.
Jagan raised the scroll, chanting the mantra once more. A beam of concentrated prana shot toward Aditya, who barely managed to roll out of the way. The attack struck the ground, sending a shockwave that knocked Aditya off his feet.
He groaned, his body aching as he struggled to stand. The wiry hunter seized the opportunity, landing a brutal kick to Aditya's ribs. The impact sent him sprawling, the core slipping from his grasp.
"Pathetic," the wiry hunter spat, picking up the core. "This is what you were trying to protect?"
Aditya coughed, blood staining his lips. He tried to stand, but his body refused to obey. The weights felt heavier than ever, their presence a cruel reminder of his limitations.
Jagan walked over, his expression cold and unyielding. "You should've stayed out of this, kid."
He raised his foot, preparing to deliver a final, crushing blow. Aditya closed his eyes, bracing for the impact.
But the blow never came.
A deafening roar shook the valley as the beast, summoning the last of its strength, lunged at the wiry hunter. Its massive jaws clamped down on the man's arm, the sound of bones crunching filling the air. The hunter screamed, dropping the core as he struggled in vain.
Jagan turned, his eyes wide with shock. "You!"
The beast released the hunter, its glowing eyes locking onto Jagan. With a final, desperate burst of energy, it charged at him. Jagan raised the mantra scroll, but before he could activate it, the beast slammed into him, sending both of them tumbling to the ground.
Aditya watched in awe as the beast, despite its grievous wounds, fought with a ferocity born of love and desperation. It turned to him, its eyes filled with a sorrowful intelligence. With a gentle nudge, it pushed the cub toward Aditya, its massive head bowing as if in gratitude.
Then, with a final, earth-shaking roar, the beast's body began to glow with an intense, blinding light. Aditya realized what was happening too late.
"No!" he shouted, scrambling to his feet. "Don't!"
The beast's body exploded in a burst of prana energy, the force of the blast sending Jagan flying and obliterating the surrounding area. Aditya shielded the cub with his body, the heat and light washing over them like a tidal wave.
When the dust settled, Aditya looked up, his vision blurred and his ears ringing. The beast was gone, its body reduced to ash. Jagan lay unconscious several feet away, his mantra scroll shattered.
The cub whimpered, nuzzling Aditya's chest. He held it close, tears streaming down his face.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I couldn't save you… but I'll protect your cub. I promise."
...............
Aditya trudged back to the hut, the cub cradled in his arms and the beast's core glowing faintly in his satchel. His body ached from the fight, but it was nothing compared to the weight in his heart. The cub, now named Shuro, whimpered softly, its tiny body trembling with fear and grief.
The sadhu was waiting outside, his expression unreadable as he watched Aditya approach. The old man's eyes flicked to the cub, then to the bloodstains on Aditya's clothes, but he said nothing until Aditya stood before him.
"Master," Aditya began, his voice heavy with emotion. "I… I couldn't save it. The beast… it sacrificed itself to protect its cub. And those hunters… they…"
He trailed off, unable to find the words. The sadhu placed a hand on his shoulder, his touch grounding and reassuring.
"Come inside," the sadhu said gently. "Tell me everything."
Inside the hut, Aditya sat by the fire, Shuro curled up in his lap. He recounted the events in the valley—the hunters' cruelty, the beast's sacrifice, and his own helplessness. The sadhu listened in silence, his expression thoughtful.
When Aditya finished, the sadhu spoke, his voice calm but filled with wisdom.
"The world is a place of balance, Aditya. Light and darkness, life and death, humans and beasts—all are interconnected. The beast's sacrifice was not just an act of love for its cub. It was a reminder of the bond that exists between all living things."
Aditya looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But why, Master? Why would those hunters do something so cruel? The beast… it didn't deserve to die."
The sadhu's gaze was steady. "Humans are complex creatures, Aditya. Capable of great compassion and great greed. The hunters sought power and wealth, blind to the consequences of their actions. But their greed does not define all of humanity, just as the beast's sacrifice does not define all of nature."
He paused, his eyes softening. "What matters is how we respond to such darkness. You chose to protect the cub, to honor the beast's sacrifice. That is the mark of a true cultivator—one who seeks balance and justice, not power for its own sake."
Aditya nodded slowly, his grip tightening around Shuro. "I just… I wish I could've done more."
"You did what you could," the sadhu said firmly. "And in doing so, you have taken on a great responsibility. This cub is now yours to protect and nurture. It is a bond forged in sacrifice and trust. Cherish it."
The sadhu reached out, gently stroking Shuro's head. "Have you named it?"
Aditya hesitated, then nodded. "Shuro. It means 'protector' in the old tongue. The beast protected its cub… and now I'll protect Shuro."
The sadhu smiled, a rare expression of pride. "A fitting name. Shuro will grow strong under your care, just as you will grow stronger through this experience."
As the fire crackled and Shuro slept soundly in his lap, Aditya's mind churned with conflicting emotions. The hunters' cruelty, the beast's sacrifice, the weight of his new responsibility—it all felt like too much to bear.
"Master," Aditya said quietly, "I… I feel angry. Angry at those hunters, angry at myself for not being strong enough. It's like there's a fire inside me, and I don't know how to control it."
The sadhu's expression grew serious. "Anger is a natural response, Aditya. But it is also dangerous. If left unchecked, it can consume you, disrupt your prana, and throw your chakras out of balance."
As if on cue, Aditya felt a surge of energy within him, hot and uncontrolled. The glow of his Muladhara chakra flickered erratically, and the heavy bracelets on his wrists seemed to grow heavier.
"Master," Aditya said, his voice strained, "I can't… I can't control it."
The sadhu placed a hand on Aditya's chest, his touch calming. "Breathe, Aditya. Focus on the flow of your prana. Let the anger pass through you, but do not let it define you."
Aditya closed his eyes, taking deep, steady breaths. Slowly, the erratic energy began to settle, the glow of his chakra returning to its steady rhythm.
"Good," the sadhu said, his voice gentle. "Remember, Aditya, true strength lies not in the absence of anger, but in the ability to master it. The path of cultivation is as much about inner balance as it is about physical power."
Aditya nodded, his breathing steadying. "I understand, Master. I'll do better."
The sadhu smiled faintly. "You already are, Aditya. Rest now. Tomorrow, we begin anew."
As the fire died down and the hut grew quiet, Aditya sat with Shuro in his arms, his mind still heavy with thoughts. The cub's soft breathing was a comforting presence, a reminder of the bond they now shared.
But beneath the surface, Aditya's anger simmered, a fire that refused to be extinguished. For the first time, he had seen the depths of human greed, and it had shaken him to his core.
I won't let this happen again, he vowed silently. 'I'll get stronger. For Shuro. For the beast. For everyone who face such unfairness.'
As he drifted off to sleep, the glow of his Muladhara chakra flickered faintly, a sign of the turmoil within. The path ahead would not be easy, but Aditya was determined to walk it—no matter the cost.