The soft sway of lantern light cast shifting shadows on the stone walls. The air in the room still held the faint scent of mountain incense from Swastamita, yet the silence that hung between the three people inside was heavier than any aroma.
Reina glanced toward Bhirendra, her gaze sharp as a blade. She leaned back in her chair with folded arms and then cut through the silence with a voice like a strike.
"You speak as if you weren’t the one who refused to come two days ago."
The words hit Bhirendra square in the chest. He lowered his head slightly, lips parting to reply—but no words came before Reina continued.
"Listen," she said, voice now calmer, nearly emotionless, but laced with bitter irony.
"I have no ability to save the world. I can’t even ride a horse without passing out. I’m a researcher, not a warrior. I deal in data, hypotheses, and instruments—not swords or sorcery. You both... make me feel amused and insulted at the same time."
She wasn’t angry. In fact, her expression looked utterly tired. Her head dropped, hands cradling her weary skull, and her tone sank like a leaf unwilling to be claimed by the wind.
Neither Radeeva nor Bhirendra interrupted. They exchanged glances, each understanding the turmoil within Reina—something no logic could solve. Anyone thrown into the whirlpool of fate like she was would feel torn from themselves.
"You don’t need to worry," Radeeva finally said, voice soft as mist before dawn.
"We’ll train you. Just give us three days. Three days to get you used to riding, archery, and... swordplay. I promise, you’ll manage."
Reina looked up in disbelief, then chuckled bitterly.
"Three days?" she scoffed. "Do you think I’m some magical creature who can absorb skills like downloading an app? This is insane. You don’t even know the limits of your own jokes."
Bhirendra, who had remained silent by the window, finally stepped toward her. His voice was low but firm.
"Nothing is impossible in our world, especially for one who has been chosen."
As Reina looked at him, ready to retort with sarcasm, Bhirendra moved. A quick touch—gentle yet precise—on the back of her neck, exactly at the stream of soul energy.
Reina didn’t even get a word out. The world spun—and blacked out.
Her body slumped forward, but Bhirendra caught her, steady and sure.
"Try to be gentler next time," Radeeva muttered, glancing at him sharply, though his tone lacked real anger.
Bhirendra gave a slight nod. He laid Reina down on the bed, arranging the covers and ensuring she slept soundly. His eyes lingered on her face a moment longer, as if trying to understand the weight he couldn’t yet see.
He knew Radeeva had spent much of his own energy tonight soothing Reina’s mental state with the Mantram Alitkasa—an atmospheric magic that didn’t sear flesh or shake earth, but instead drained the soul by calming emotions directly.
That night, Radeeva left without further words or mockery. Meanwhile, Bhirendra stayed, seated in a chair by the door, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, eyes half-lidded but ever alert.
For him, the night wasn’t over. He was now this girl’s guardian. And for the first time, he realized—his duty wasn’t just to protect Reina’s body, but to help rebuild the soul of a woman torn from her world and thrown into a destiny she never chose.
---
Dawn had not yet brushed the peak of the Tower of Light when Reina was forced to open her eyes. The knock on her door was like the beating of war drums. Before she could groan or mutter, the door opened, revealing Bhirendra standing tall in the doorway like a shadow from another world.
"Get up. Training begins now," he said—flat, as always, without greeting or kindness. As if sleep was a luxury for those not bound by fate.
Reina groaned, grabbing her pillow and covering her face.
"What time is it... Do you know normal humans need rest?"
But Bhirendra’s answer was silence. Silence that meant there was no room for protest.
Moments later, Reina gave in. She dragged her half-asleep body into the training hall—a vast circular space known as the Gelanggang Pramukara. Its obsidian floor absorbed the morning chill, while the walls were carved with ancient runes that seemed to breathe when touched by light.
Training began with running laps. Four rounds. Then ten. Reina felt her lungs were about to burst.
"This is torture," she hissed. "This isn’t training. It’s a murder attempt."
Bhirendra said nothing. He stood with arms crossed, watching her like a sculptor staring at a rock, hoping it would turn into a gem. He didn’t cheer, didn’t scold—he just... demanded.
Then came push-ups, planks, and something Reina dubbed honorable death drills. No water. No breaks, aside from ragged breaths.
By midday, Reina was collapsed on the floor, drenched in sweat, her hair a tangled mess like a bird that failed to build a nest. Her breaths were ragged, almost surrendering—when Radeeva arrived.
His usually calm face furrowed upon seeing her. He quickly knelt, placing both palms against her chest. Gentle light flowed—refreshing like mountain dew.
"She’s not a soldier, Bhirendra," Radeeva said, voice soft but firm.
"You’re training her like one of your troops—not someone who just learned last night that her world isn’t the only one."
Bhirendra’s face remained unreadable.
"We have little time. The world doesn’t wait for the weak."
"And the world is never saved by killing someone’s hope," Radeeva replied coldly.
He grabbed a parchment from the side table—Reina’s training schedule. After glancing at it, his fingers lit up with blue fire. In seconds, it was ash.
"This is madness!" he said. "This isn’t a schedule—it’s a death sentence!"
Before Reina could thank him or even smile at being rescued, Radeeva stood and began chanting an incantation in an ancient tongue. The air around Reina trembled. Her body felt light—then lifted a few inches off the ground. The ring on her finger glowed softly, forming patterns of light like threads of fate being rewoven.
Reina gasped. "What is this..."
Radeeva offered a small smile.
"I’m only unlocking what’s already within. From now on, just observe—then try to follow. Your body will start to remember."
"Wait," Reina interrupted.
"You mean... no more push-ups, sit-ups, stairs, or... backbends?"
"Backbends?" Radeeva almost laughed.
"No. This isn’t gymnastics school."
Bhirendra sighed, but before he could say a word, Radeeva launched a strike at him. The warrior dodged with smooth reflexes, and within seconds, they were locked in a rapid exchange—leaps, strikes, energy flashes.
Reina watched from the floor, sweat still pouring—this time more from mental exhaustion than physical.
"I swear... this world’s insane," she muttered.
"And I entered it without a GPS."
She kept watching the two men clash in the center of the arena. Dust swirled, the air shivered with every magical collision. Had it not been for Radeeva’s spell earlier, Reina would've probably fainted again.
"Am I being trained or watching two exes who haven’t moved on?" she muttered while massaging her temple.
The duel ended as usual—with no winner. Just sharp glances and heavy breathing. Bhirendra eventually turned away, arms folded again, while Radeeva merely sighed and walked lightly toward Reina.
"Training starts now," he said, as if nothing had happened.
"Training? Wasn’t that earlier... a gladiator show?" Reina mumbled in half-joking protest.
But Radeeva chuckled softly—lightening the atmosphere. Bhirendra glanced over, unreadable as always, perhaps hiding a smile.
Now Reina stood in the center of a glowing circle etched with ancient symbols on the floor. The Cakra Adhiwara ring on her finger pulsed in sync with her heartbeat. Radeeva stood on her right, observing, while Bhirendra watched from afar, leaning against a stone pillar.
"Breathe slowly. Listen to the voice within you," Radeeva murmured—his tone a lullaby swallowed by the wind.
Reina obeyed. Her eyes closed. And for the first time, she truly felt... aligned. The noise outside faded. Only her heartbeat remained—and something gently pulsing from the ring. Faint voices began to whisper, in a tongue she couldn’t recognize, yet somehow... she understood.
Suddenly, her palm grew warm. Golden light surged from the ring up her arm, forming faint lines like veins of flame. Reina opened her eyes—only to find she was no longer in the arena.
She was elsewhere. A place between dimensions. The sky was dark but strewn with slow-moving stars, like they were watching. Before her, a woman cloaked in light appeared.
"I am the First Keeper of Light," the figure said.
"And you, chosen soul, have opened the gate between power and will. Your training begins now—not to become a warrior, but to remember who you truly are."
Reina nodded. Strangely, she felt no fear.
Meanwhile, in the real world, Reina’s body still stood tall in the center of the magic circle. Bhirendra leaned forward slightly, making sure nothing was wrong.
"Is she... lost?" he asked flatly.
"She’s receiving her inheritance. Don’t disturb her," Radeeva replied quickly.
"But yeah... if she’s gone too long, we call a soul priest."
Bhirendra raised a brow. "That’s usually for the comatose."
"Or the stubborn."
Silence returned. Only the hum of magic remained.
And in the midst of it all, Reina—who had always believed she was just a normal researcher—was now stepping into a new world.
A world where her destiny was not just the result of data...
But part of a tale far older than civilization itself.