Secret of Samudra: Echoes of the Forgotten Empire

Chapter 18: A Rift between Blood

The portal shimmered, its surface rippling like a disturbed pond, as Aryan stepped through without hesitation. Tara and Samudra watched in silence, the weight of the trials they'd all faced lingering between them like an unspoken bond.

Tara glanced at Samudra, her brows furrowing. "Do you think he'll be okay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Samudra leaned against the temple wall, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the glowing entrance. "Aryan is stronger than he looks," he replied, his tone calm but laced with quiet conviction. "But this trial... it's not about strength. It's about facing the parts of yourself you'd rather leave buried."

Tara bit her lip, her mind drifting to her own trial. She could still feel the phantom weight of the battlefield, the cold vastness of space, and the small, trembling version of herself she'd been forced to confront. "You mean like what we saw with the memories?"

Samudra nodded but didn't elaborate further. Instead, he turned his attention back to the portal. "He'll make it. Aryan's been through worse."

Inside the Illusion

Aryan found himself in a sunlit garden, its vibrant colors and sweet fragrances a stark contrast to the ominous weight in his chest. Birds chirped overhead, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves. For a moment, it felt serene, almost idyllic.

But then he saw her.

Standing amid the blooming flowers was a girl, her long hair cascading down her back, her delicate hands tending to a vibrant rose bush. His heart clenched as he recognized her profile.

"Aria," he breathed.

She turned, her face glowing with the warmth of a sibling's love. For a moment, she was the sister he remembered—the one who used to braid his hair when they were children, who always shared her sweets with him.

But the illusion twisted.

The garden darkened, the vibrant colors leeching away into shades of gray. The roses withered, their petals curling into ash, and the sweet aroma turned acrid. Aria's expression hardened, her soft eyes replaced with cold, calculating ones.

"Why are you here, Aryan?" she asked, her voice sharp and unfamiliar. "Do you think you can escape what you did?"

"I didn't—" He faltered, his voice breaking. "I tried to protect them. I tried to protect you."

Her laughter was a blade, cutting through his defenses. "Protect me? You stood by as they burned, as everything we loved turned to ashes. You're just as much to blame as I am."

The scene shifted violently. Flames erupted around them, consuming the once-beautiful garden. Aryan's childhood home materialized in the distance, a grand manor engulfed in fire. He could hear the screams—his parents' cries for help, his younger self shouting Aria's name.

He fell to his knees, clutching his head as the memories overwhelmed him. "No... I couldn't save them. I wasn't strong enough."

Aria stepped closer, her face contorted with anger and grief. "You're weak, Aryan. That's all you've ever been. Weak, and hiding behind Samudra's shadow."

Her words struck deep, but they also ignited something within him.

"No," he whispered, his voice trembling but resolute.

Aria sneered. "What did you say?"

Aryan stood, his hands trembling but his eyes burning with determination. "I couldn't save them, and I couldn't save you. But I'm not weak. Not anymore."

The flames around them roared, but Aryan didn't flinch. Instead, he took a step toward her, his voice steady. "I've spent my life running from this moment, from what I couldn't do. But I see it now—I can't change the past. I can only move forward."

As he spoke, the illusion began to waver. The flames dimmed, and Aria's figure flickered. She stared at him, her expression softening for just a moment before she disappeared entirely.

The garden returned, blooming anew, but Aryan knew it wasn't real. It was never real. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, leaving the illusion behind.

Outside the Trial

Tara paced nervously, her arms crossed as she glanced at the portal. "It's taking too long," she muttered.

Samudra, ever composed, leaned against a pillar, twirling a coin between his fingers. "Patience, Tara. Aryan's trial isn't something we can interfere with."

"I know that," she snapped, then sighed. "I just... I hate waiting. And after everything we've been through, I can't help but worry."

Samudra's lips curved into a faint smile. "He'll be fine. Aryan's not the type to let a trial beat him."

Tara stopped pacing and looked at him. "You're awfully calm about all this."

"It's called trust," Samudra replied, his tone light but his eyes serious. "Something we've all learned a lot about recently."

Before Tara could respond, the portal rippled, and Aryan stepped through. He looked exhausted, his usually playful demeanor replaced with a quiet, solemn expression.

Tara rushed to his side. "Aryan! Are you okay?"

He managed a weak smile. "I've been better," he admitted, his voice hoarse.

Samudra pushed off the pillar and approached, his sharp eyes scanning Aryan. "You made it," he said simply, though there was a note of pride in his tone.

Aryan nodded, his gaze distant. "Yeah... I made it."

Aftermath

As the trio regrouped, Samudra glanced at the horizon, his expression turning serious. "We need to move," he said.

Tara frowned. "Move? Why?"

"The assassins," Samudra explained. "If they've found us once, they'll find us again. Staying here is too dangerous."

Aryan, his strength slowly returning, smirked faintly. "Always the strategist, aren't you?"

Samudra didn't deny it. "It's what I'm good at," he replied.

Tara exchanged a glance with Aryan, who gave her a reassuring nod. Despite everything they'd been through, their journey was far from over.

And as they left the temple behind, Aryan couldn't help but glance back at the now-fading portal. The trial had tested him in ways he hadn't anticipated, but it also reminded him of who he was—and who he wanted to be.

For the first time in a long while, he felt ready to face whatever came next.