The morning sunlight came through the thin slats of the wooden walls, turning the room in a warm glow. Arav stirred from his restless sleep, his body still adjusting to the rhythm of the sect. Today was his first real step toward understanding Prana, and the thought both thrilled and unnerved him.

A loud knock jolted him from his thoughts.

“Arav! Don’t tell me you’re still in bed,WAKE UP FUTURE PRANA MASTER!” Buddhi’s voice boomed from the other side of the door.

Arav groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m awake, Buddhi!”

“Liar! You sound like you just woke up. Hurry up, or we’ll miss breakfast!”

Arav rolled his eyes, quickly throwing on his robes and opening the door to find Buddhi grinning at him.

“You know, for someone who just woke up, you don’t look half bad,” Buddhi teased.

“Glad to know I meet your standards,” Arav replied dryly. “Now can we go?”

The dining hall was a full of activity, with disciples crowding around long wooden tables laden with steaming bowls of rice, lentils, and fresh fruits. The hum of conversation filled the air, a mix of excitement and nerves for the day ahead.

“Over here!” Buddhi waved, spotting an open spot near the corner.

As they settled in, Arav couldn’t help but notice the energy in the room.

“Everyone looks so eager,” he remarked, picking at his food.

“Of course,” Buddhi said, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth. “Today’s the day we start learning to awaken our Prana. It’s a big deal.”

“Or it’s just the first step in a very long road,” came a calm voice.

Arav and Buddhi turned to see Dhiran standing behind them, his expression as serene as ever.

“Mind if I join?” Dhiran asked.

“Not at all!” Buddhi said, sliding over to make room.

As Dhiran sat down, Buddhi leaned in conspiratorially. “You know, for someone who acts so serious, you sure will like hanging around me , I can tell you that much.”

Dhiran arched an eyebrow. “Maybe I will enjoy the contrast. Besides, someone needs to keep you grounded.”

Arav smirked. “I’m glad you’re here, Dhiran. I was starting to think Buddhi might talk my ear off before class even started.”

Buddhi feigned offense. “You wound me, Arav! I’m just trying to keep the mood light.”

The three of them fell into an easy rhythm, their banter punctuated by observations about the other disciples.

“Look at that guy,” Buddhi said, gesturing to a tall boy with an intense expression. “He looks like he’s already mastered Prana or something.”

Dhiran shook his head. “Confidence can be a mask for insecurity. The ones who truly understand are often the quietest.”

“You mean like you?” Arav teased.

Dhiran’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Perhaps.”

The training hall was alive with anticipation. Disciples gathered in groups, their voices a low chatter that bounced off the polished wooden walls. The hall itself, with its high beams and open skylights, seemed to breathe in the sunlight, a reflection of the teachings about to be given.

Arav walked in, his steps quiet but steady. He wasn’t sure what to expect from this first day. He spotted Buddhi already seated near the front, a slight smirk on his face. To his left was Dhiran, seated with an air of calm that contrasted sharply with the buzz of the hall. Arav made his way over to them and sat down.

“You’re late,” Buddhi whispered, grinning. “I thought you might have chickened out.”

“Maybe I just wanted to make an entrance,” Arav replied, rolling his eyes.

Dhiran interjected, his voice low but firm. “Quiet down. The instructor’s here.”

The room fell silent as Master Varunesh stepped forward. His gaze was sharp, penetrating each disciple as if reading their very souls.

“Disciples,” Master Varunesh began, his voice calm but commanding, “you will now take the first step on a path that few dare to tread. But let me warn you: this path is not for the faint of heart. It is not power that you seek here, but understanding. And with understanding comes responsibility.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “Prana—the life force—is not merely an energy to be wielded. It is the essence of existence itself. It flows through all things in the entire universe, connecting you to the universe and the universe to you.”

A hand shot up from the back of the hall. It was a young disciple, his voice hesitant but curious. “Master, if Prana is in everything, why do only some people awaken it?”

Master Varunesh smiled, a faint but knowing expression. “An excellent question. Prana is indeed universal, but to awaken it requires a harmony that many do not achieve. Most live their lives disconnected—distracted by desires, fears, and illusions. To awaken Prana, you must first awaken yourselves.”

Another disciple leaned forward, their voice filled with skepticism. “But how can we awaken something we can’t see? Isn’t it just an idea?”

“An idea?” Master Varunesh repeated, his tone sharp. “Is the wind just an idea because you cannot see it? Is the warmth of the sun merely a story because you cannot hold it in your hand? Prana is no different. You feel it in your breath, in the pulse of your heartbeat, in the way the world responds to your presence. It is not an idea; it is reality.”

Master Varunesh gestured to the walls of the hall, adorned with intricate carvings depicting ancient battles and moments of profound enlightenment. “This sect stands as a testament to the pursuit of harmony. The Solstice Sect was born from a time of great upheaval when the balance of Dharma was at risk. Our ancestors, guided by the wisdom of the elements, restored that balance. They were not conquerors; they were guardians of the natural order.”

The disciples listened intently, their expressions a mix of awe and curiosity.

“What’s Dharma?” another disciple asked, their voice tinged with uncertainty.

Master Varunesh’s eyes softened. “Dharma is the cosmic law that sustains all existence. It is not a rule imposed by others but a truth discovered within. It is your duty, your path, your connection to the universe. To follow Dharma is to align yourself with the flow of Prana, to act not out of desire or fear, but out of understanding.”

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Master Varunesh turned back to the room, his gaze steady. “Prana flows through five elements—Earth, Water, Fire, Air, and Space. Each of you will find yourself drawn to one of these elements, but remember: no element is greater or lesser than another. Together, they form the foundation of existence.”

He began to pace, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of tradition. “Prithvi—Earth—is strength and stability. It grounds you, and gives you the endurance to withstand the storms of life. Jal—Water—is balance and healing. It flows, adapts, and purifies. Agni—Fire—is transformation. It burns away the old to make way for the new, driving growth and passion. Vayu—Air—is freedom. It moves swiftly, carrying ideas and inspiration. And Aakasha—Space—is the bridge to the infinite. It is the vastness that connects all things, the silence in which the universe speaks.”

A disciple raised their hand. “Master, how do we know which element is ours?”

Master Varunesh paused, considering the question. “Your element is not something you choose. It is something you discover. It is the rhythm that resonates most deeply within you. But know this: true mastery lies not in clinging to one element, but in understanding the harmony of them all.”

Another voice piped up from the back. “Master, if Prana is so profound, why does it take so long to awaken?”

Master Varunesh’s gaze turned sharp. “Because awakening Prana is not about power. It is about breaking through the illusion(Maya) of the self. Most people are blinded by their egos, their fears, their desires. To awaken Prana, you must first confront these illusions. You must be willing to let go of who you think you are to discover who you truly are.”

Arav couldn’t help but lean forward, his thoughts racing. Confront the self? Let go of illusions? It sounded simple, but the weight of the words made it clear this was anything but.

Dhiran spoke softly, almost to himself. “To let go of who you think you are…that’s harder than any battle.”

Buddhi, sitting nearby, muttered under his breath, “I just hope this doesn’t involve more sitting still and breathing.”

Arav stifled a smile as Master Varunesh’s voice rose again.

“Tomorrow, you will begin the first step: awakening your Prana. For some, it will come easily. For others, it will be a struggle. But know this—awakening is not the end of your journey. It is only the beginning. To wield Prana is to carry a responsibility to the world. It is not about power for its own sake, but power for the service Dharma.”

As the session came to a close, the disciples began to rise, their minds brimming with thoughts.

Dhiran turned to Arav. “What do you think he meant by letting go of illusions?”

Arav shrugged, his expression contemplative. “Maybe it means seeing things for what they really are. Not just the world, but ourselves.”

Buddhi groaned. “Great. More philosophy. I was hoping we’d start with something easier, like punching things.”

Dhiran shot him a look. “You’re missing the point.”

“Am I?” Buddhi grinned. “Because the point of a fist is usually to hit something.”

Arav shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. As they walked out into the sunlight, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far bigger than he could imagine.

The training hall brimmed with anticipation as the disciples assembled, their chatter bouncing off the polished wooden walls. Morning sunlight filtered through the slatted windows, casting long golden streaks across the room. Everyone knew this was a pivotal moment—the start of their journey to awaken their Prana.

Arav entered alongside Dhiran and Buddhi, taking seats in the middle of the room. The three exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of excitement and apprehension.

“Feels like the air’s heavier in here,” Dhiran muttered, looking around. “You think that’s the Prana? Or just nerves?”

Buddhi snorted. “It’s nerves. Probably yours.”

“Very funny,” Dhiran shot back. “You won’t be laughing when I awaken Fire and accidentally scorch your robes.”

“Let’s just focus on surviving this class,” Arav interrupted with a wry smile. “We don’t even know what we’re doing yet.”

But even as he spoke, Arav felt a strange pull in his chest. Is this what the masters talk about—the quiet call of something deeper? Or is it just wishful thinking?

The conversations around them hushed as Master Varunesh entered the hall. The instructor’s calm presence seemed to ripple outward, quieting even the most restless disciples. His robes were simple, but his aura spoke of power tempered by wisdom. He surveyed the room with a steady gaze, his silence commanding attention before he even spoke.

“Disciples,” he began, his voice resonant and unwavering, “today you take your first step on the path of awakening. But understand this—awakening Prana is not about power or accomplishment. It is about recognition. The energy you seek is not separate from you. It is the essence of life itself, the bridge between the finite and the infinite.”

Arav listened intently, his gaze fixed on the master. Recognition? What does that even mean? If Prana is part of me, why does it feel so distant? Why does everything feel... fractured?

Master Varunesh began to pace slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. “What is Prana? Many will tell you it is energy, the force that sustains life. And they are correct—but only partially. Prana is not merely a force; it is the rhythm of existence, the breath of the cosmos. It flows through all things—through the earth, the stars, the air you breathe. It is creation, sustenance, and dissolution.”

A disciple near the front hesitated before raising a hand. “Master, if Prana is already within us, why do we need to awaken it?”

Master Varunesh paused, his gaze thoughtful. “A seed contains within it the potential to become a tree. Yet without sunlight, water, and time, it remains dormant. Similarly, your Prana lies dormant, awaiting the light of awareness and the nourishment of discipline to bloom.”

Arav clenched his fists, his mind racing. A seed. That’s all I am right now—potential, waiting to be something more. But what if I don’t bloom? What if I can’t?

The disciples were instructed to sit cross-legged, their hands resting gently on their knees. The room was silent now, the only sound the steady rhythm of their collective breathing. Master Varunesh’s voice guided them.

“Close your eyes. Breathe deeply. Feel the air as it enters your body, cool and refreshing. This breath is Prana in its simplest form—the essence of life. With each inhale, draw it in. With each exhale, release what no longer serves you.”

Arav closed his eyes, his thoughts a tangled web. Draw it in, release what no longer serves me. What exactly doesn’t serve me? The pain? The anger? His breath hitched slightly. But those are the only things that keep me going.

“Now,” Master Varunesh continued, “turn your attention inward. Visualize a flame, small and flickering, within your heart. This flame is your connection to the universe, to the divine. Do not force it to grow. Simply observe.”

Arav struggled to hold the image in his mind. The flame seemed elusive, like a distant memory he couldn’t quite grasp. Why does this feel so... out of reach? Is it because I’m trying too hard, or because I’m not trying hard enough?

Minutes turned into what felt like hours. The hall was filled with the sound of breathing, and by the occasional groan or whispered frustration.

“This isn’t working,” Buddhi muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. “I feel nothing.”

“Me neither,” Dhiran admitted. “It’s like trying to catch smoke.”

Arav didn’t respond, his focus still inward. He could feel something—a faint, fleeting sensation—but it refused to take form. It’s there. I know it’s there. But it’s like a shadow—always just out of reach. What am I doing wrong?

“Master,” a voice called out, breaking the silence. “What if we fail? What if we can’t awaken our Prana?”

Master Varunesh stopped pacing, his expression serene. “Failure is a concept born of impatience. Awakening Prana is not an event. It is a process. None of you will awaken today—not because you are incapable, but because true awakening requires time, effort, and surrender. You must first confront yourselves—the walls you have built, the shadows you have ignored.”

Arav’s shoulders sagged slightly. Walls and shadows. I’ve lived with them for so long, I don’t even know where they end and I begin.

Another disciple asked hesitantly, “Master, how long does it take?”

“For some, weeks. For others, years. The journey is as unique as the soul undertaking it. But remember this: the journey itself is the awakening. Each breath, each moment of struggle, brings you closer.”

Hours passed, and the disciples gradually opened their eyes, their faces reflecting a mix of frustration and determination. No one had succeeded in awakening their Prana, but there was no shame in their expressions—only a quiet resolve.

As the disciples began to disperse, Arav lingered in his spot, his mind heavy with unanswered questions. What am I missing? If this is supposed to feel natural, why does it feel so unnatural?

Dhiran nudged him lightly. “Hey, you okay? You look like you’ve been staring into the void.”

Arav forced a smile. “Yeah, just... thinking.”

“Don’t overthink it,” Buddhi said, stretching his arms. “Master said it takes time, right? We’ll get there.”

Time, Arav thought. But how much time do I have before the shadows catch up with me?

As they walked out of the hall, the warmth of the sun felt distant, a faint echo of the flame he still couldn’t quite grasp. The journey had begun, but the path ahead felt longer and darker than ever.