Arjun woke me up by literally throwing a pillow at my face, which is a wildly different wake-up call than the gentle hum of Naomi’s coffee maker. I groaned, swatting the offending cushion away, and rolled out of the floating bed, my muscles still aching from the week-long coma. When I met Taara in the courtyard, she was already holding two mugs, handing me my usual hot chocolate with a knowing smirk.
"We're heading to the Hall of Sigils today," she said, taking a sip of her coffee.
I stared at her, the mug halfway to my mouth. "...That sounds ominous."
She just laughed and led the way, but when we finally pushed open the massive bronze doors, the words completely died in my throat. The Hall of Sigils was a colossal, circular amphitheater, and every single inch of the curved walls was covered in glowing, intricate emblems. Some pulsed with a vibrant, blinding light, while others were faded to a dull, ghostly whisper, and a few looked so ancient they seemed to be carved from starlight itself.
"...Whoa," I breathed, stepping into the center of the room and looking up.
Our professor, a guy who looked like he hadn't slept since the Mahabharata but had the energy of a caffeinated squirrel, clapped his hands together. "What is a Sigil?" he demanded, pacing the floor.
"Power!" someone yelled.
"Identity!" another offered.
"The soul!" a third chimed in.
"Wrong. Wrong. Half-right," the professor shot back, not unkindly. He stopped pacing and looked at all of us. "A Sigil is not your power. It is your soul learning how to speak."
He let that hang in the air for a second before launching into the history, explaining that long ago, demigods needed a way for their divine legacy to safely coexist with a fragile mortal body. The result was the Sigil, a manifestation of both their divine heritage and their own inner self, rather than something inherited like eye color. Every single Sigil in this room was entirely unique, because no two souls process the divine in the exact same way.
He pulled out a glowing glass board and quickly sketched the three branches Taara had explained to me on my first day. Incarnated warrior souls at the top, divine bloodlines in the middle, and blessed mortals at the bottom, who served Meruzhen but didn't possess true Sigils. It was a perfect, visual reminder of exactly where I fit into this impossibly massive cosmic puzzle, and it made my stomach do a weird little flip.
Then the fun actually began, and the professor called for volunteers to demonstrate their manifestations. It wasn't like those flashy anime explosions you see in cartoons; it was controlled, elegant, and breathtakingly beautiful. Fire danced across a girl's fingertips, water spiraled around another's wrists, and the air in the room shifted as wind and earth were coaxed into perfect, harmonious displays.
Arjun stepped up, and tiny, perfect arcs of lightning began to dance across his forearm, crackling with absolute, terrifying control.
"...Show-off," I muttered, crossing my arms.
Taara rolled her eyes, stepping up next. She pressed her palm to the stone floor, and thick, ancient roots immediately burst through the rock, wrapping around her arm in a display of pure, gravitational earth magic.
The professor turned his gaze to me, his eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. "Your turn, Krish."
The entire hall went dead silent, and I suddenly felt like a bug under a microscope.
"...Respectfully," I started, my voice cracking slightly. "...I don't know how."
The room erupted into good-natured laughter, and I stepped into the center of the circle, taking a deep breath and trying to pull whatever was supposed to be inside me to the surface. I strained until my head pounded, but nothing happened. I tried again. Still nothing. And a third time, just to be absolutely sure. Absolutely nothing.
The professor didn't look disappointed, just deeply thoughtful, but I didn't notice him looking past me. Standing quietly in the shadowed back of the hall, Devavratha was watching me with an intensity that made the air feel heavy. He wasn't looking at my empty hands; he was looking at the space just above my chest, where a single, microscopic ember of gold had flickered into existence for a fraction of a second. It was gone before anyone else even blinked, but the old Master saw it, and his eyes narrowed in quiet realization.
"Most Sigils awaken through age, rigorous training, or immense emotional events," the professor explained, breaking the tension and making me visibly relax. "But some... take longer. There is absolutely no shame in a soul that prefers to take its time."
After class, Arjun grabbed my shoulder and literally dragged me down a restricted corridor, completely ignoring the glowing 'Authorized Personnel Only' signs. The walls here were lined with legendary Sigils, ancient names of heroes and guardians etched in gold beneath the emblems, some of which I actually recognized from the epics. We stopped in front of a completely empty pedestal, the stone beneath it polished but bare.
"...Who's that for?" I asked, staring at the blank space.
Arjun just shrugged, his easy smile returning. "No idea."
I looked back down the long, echoing hall, the weight of a thousand glowing souls pressing down on my shoulders. "I still don't understand any of this."
Taara stepped up beside me, her expression soft and entirely unsurprised. "Good. Neither did the rest of us on Day One."
ns216.73.216.248da2
and then Add to home screen.