Twins of Tatva

The arena was unlike anything Devsena had seen — carved from volcanic stone, echoing with chants in an ancient tongue. In the center lay a sword, glowing red-hot, embedded into the ground like a promise.

This was the Trial of Blood.

As Devsena stepped inside, the flames around the arena roared to life.

Then, from the smoke… a figure emerged.

Tall. Armored. Familiar.

"Devsena," the man spoke,

"Do you remember the face of your father?"

Her breath caught in her throat.

She remembered stories… but not him.

"Who are you?" she asked, voice low.

He removed his helmet.

Her knees nearly buckled.

"I am Veeraksha, Guardian of the Flame and your blood."

"To claim your destiny, you must defeat me."

She laughed bitterly. "You want me to kill my own father?"

"No," he said, unsheathing his flaming blade.

"I want you to prove you're strong enough… not to."

And the fight began.

Sparks clashed. Devsena's flame clashed with his controlled inferno.

Every strike echoed with old pain. Every dodge, a dance of rage and restraint.

He knocked her back.

"Your fire is untamed. You burn because you are afraid."

"I burn," she growled, rising again,

"because I refuse to be controlled."

Her blade ignited, brighter than ever.

She didn't aim to win. She aimed to understand.

At the end, she disarmed him — not with force, but by dropping her sword.

"I don't want to be you," she said.

"I want to be better."

Veeraksha smiled — just a flicker — before vanishing into a gust of smoke.

The arena burned gold.

She had passed.

And from the flames… came a scroll, sealed in red wax.

She opened it — and gasped.

"The Third Trial: When Fire Meets Water — Only One Shall Remain."