Heavy, dense clouds covered the sky. The moonlight had vanished somewhere behind them. There was a strange dampness in the air—as if rain were coming, yet not a single drop fell. The forest was unnaturally quiet. The waterfall, which always sang in a cheerful voice, seemed subdued that night. The birds huddled in their nests. Even the eyes of the nocturnal animals gleamed less brightly that day.
Yogesh was absorbed in meditation beneath a tree. His consciousness had sunk deep. He had gone beyond the breath—where only silence remained. Then—a sharp, agonized cry tore through that silence.
The sound came so suddenly that even the depths of his meditation could not hold it back. Yogesh opened his eyes. He listened carefully. For a few moments, there was silence—then the same groan came again, closer this time, more helpless.
Without delay, he picked up his staff and walked in that direction. The darkness was thick, but his eyes were accustomed to it. As he moved through the leaves, he felt with every step that the air was not normal. There was a burnt smell in it—sharp and unsettling.
After going some distance, he saw it—a person lying on the ground. His clothes were torn, and deep wounds covered his body. He was alive, but his thread of life seemed perilously thin.
Yogesh approached him cautiously. “Who are you?” His voice was calm, but he remained alert inside. The only answer was another groan.
He lit a lamp. In the faint light, the man’s face emerged—pale and weak, yet with a strange gleam in his eyes. It was not ordinary pain; there was something else in it—as if he were waiting.
Yogesh clasped his wrist and checked his pulse. At that very moment, a cold wave raced through his body. The pulse was slow, but there was an intense, abnormal vibration within it—as if two rhythms were moving at once.
Suddenly, the man clamped down on his wrist. His grip was so strong that Yogesh jerked in surprise. His fingers were long and black, his nails unnaturally sharp. They dug into the skin. A wave of pain surged through him.
The man’s eyes flew fully open. There was no fear in them—only a strange satisfaction. His lips trembled, and a heavy, broken voice emerged. “He has been found.”
The words hung in the air. Yogesh’s heart began to pound. Who? Before he could ask, the grip loosened. The gleam in the man’s eyes went out. His body became lifeless.
Yogesh remained seated there for several moments. Blood dripped from his wrist. But more intense than the pain was the question—Who had been found? Who? Had it been said for someone else? Or for him?
He did not want to leave the body there. He cleared away some soil and covered it respectfully. But the moment he rose and started walking away, he felt it—the forest air had changed. As if someone were watching him.
He began walking back at a quick pace. Every shadow now seemed suspicious. Meaning lurked in every rustle. Then—a brilliant flash streaked across the sky. He looked up.
It was not lightning.
It was a fiery orb—bright and blazing, coming straight toward him. It moved so fast that time itself seemed to stop. The air roared. The trees trembled. Birds took flight in terror.
Yogesh tried to move aside—but the light stole his vision. The next instant—an impact like the end of the world.
There was an explosion. Flames spread outward. The earth shook. His body was hurled into the air. A sharp, unbearable pain. And then—nothingness.
But it was not complete nothingness.
Within the darkness, he felt that he was not falling, but drifting. As if his body had been left behind while his consciousness remained awake. He heard the sound of the waterfall—but from far away. He felt the tree’s vibration—but dimly.
And then—another sound.
The same voice.
He has been found.
This time, it was not coming from outside. It was echoing within him.
A subtle light appeared in the darkness. There were shapes inside it—but they were indistinct. As if there were a curtain about to be drawn aside. He felt that this was not the end. It was a doorway.
Far away, somewhere else, at another time—the first cry of a soul rang out.
And in that same instant, a vibration stirred within the consciousness wandering through the void—as if an invisible thread were connecting two points.
The forest had fallen silent. The waterfall still flowed. The shadow of the massive tree was empty. Yet there was a subtle change in the air—as if some power that had once been bound to that place had now been set free.
Once Upon a Time...