In a hidden glade near the Flame Basin, Rudra sat beside Aarav, uncharacteristically quiet.
"There's more I must tell you," he said at last. "About your mother."
Aarav's heart skipped. "You knew her?"
Rudra nodded. "She was once the High Priestess of the Crimson Veil—guardian of sacred mantras, and protector of this land. She vanished after sealing away the Agneyastra. She gave me the ring… and a vow to find her son when the time was right."
Aarav's eyes filled with unspoken questions, but Rudra continued, "She is alive, Aarav. Somewhere, she waits—for you."
The revelation struck harder than any battle. Aarav, once an orphan drowning in grief, now carried a link to something greater. Not just a warrior's legacy, but blood that connected him to ancient power and love long thought lost.
As night fell, the stars above seemed to pulse in rhythm with his heart. The road ahead would be perilous, but for the first time, he felt complete.
He would find his mother.
He would reclaim his destiny.
And he would not walk alone.