Within the tranquil dome of Shivraashi, time lost meaning. Raghav's senses blurred between the real and the divine as he meditated under the hovering lotus. The sacred ground wasn't merely a place—it was a realm stitched into the fabric of Dominion itself.
The air suddenly thickened. Flames erupted around him—not destructive, but purifying. His surroundings remained untouched, but Raghav felt fire burning through his spirit. These were the Flames of the Inner Self, a test that came to only those deemed worthy by Shivraashi.
Pain seared through his mind as memories surged forward: his lonely days in Varanasi, the taunts of his orphanhood, the first time he felt truly seen—by Nyra, by the beasts, and by Dominion itself. Every scar in his soul rose like smoke, and the flames consumed them.
A voice echoed within him—not Master Arvind, not Nyra.
"You are the bearer of the balance… but to wield the power of beasts, you must first tame the beast within."
The fire formed a silhouette—a fiery beast, humanoid but monstrous, its eyes burning blue. It lunged at him.
But Raghav did not run. He stood, eyes closed, arms wide. The beast struck.
And dissolved.
The fire cooled, and a mark began to burn itself onto his chest: a glowing Trishula, etched in divine energy. Nyra growled softly, sensing the shift. His aura had changed—calmer, but deeper, more primal.
He rose from the sacred pond. The floating lotus closed, its purpose complete—for now.
Arvind stood waiting beyond the veil of mist.
"You've passed the first of three awakenings, Raghav. Your soul is now bound to the Will of Dominion."
Raghav clenched his fist. "Then I'm ready."
Arvind smiled. "You're ready... for the Tournament of Celestial Bonding."