[6] The Flame of Determination: Embracing the Path of Immortality…

Chapter 6:- The Flame of Determination: Embracing the Path of Immortality…

Arkan was overjoyed to see that he only received three tasks, and they all seemed relatively easy. With a smile on his face, he opened the door to the Sword Pavilion and stepped inside. The moment he entered, his eyes widened in excitement. Countless swords were scattered around the pavilion, each possessing its own unique aura. Some appeared noble and majestic, while others gave off an eerie and sinister vibe.

Arkan's mind raced with thoughts of taking one of these swords for himself, but he quickly suppressed the urge. He knew that such actions would be frowned upon and could have severe consequences. Instead, he focused on finding the velvet sword, the first task on his list. As he approached the sword, a strange sensation washed over him, and he felt a chill run down his spine.

Just as Arkan was about to touch the sword, it suddenly levitated into the air and swung towards his throat, leaving behind a thin streak of red. Frozen in fear, Arkan stood motionless, not daring to make a single move. The velvet sword slowly descended, and Arkan took a step back, bowing deeply in a sincere gesture of respect.

"Immortal sword, please allow me to clean your body," Arkan pleaded. "I swear to be as gentle as possible."

There was no immediate response from the sword, and Arkan cautiously extended his hand once again. But just as his fingers were about to make contact, the sword abruptly soared into the air, slashing deeper into his throat this time. Arkan winced in pain, his eyes welling up with tears.

"Syed Arkan Ali, you have failed," a disembodied voice echoed through the pavilion.

An invisible force suddenly seized Arkan, propelling him out of the Sword Pavilion and towards the sect's entrance. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, a disciple grabbed hold of him and disappeared, leaving behind an azure arc.

In a matter of hours, the disciple reappeared outside the village gate and unceremoniously dumped Arkan onto the ground. The disciple vanished once more, leaving behind a trail of azure light. Arkan lay there, his body sore and battered, tears streaming down his face.

A crowd had gathered around the village gate, including Arkan's parents and the old librarian. As they spotted Arkan, concern filled their eyes. His father hurried over, his voice filled with worry.

"What happened, Arkan? Why are you lying here? Are you hurt?" his father inquired, his voice trembling.

Tears continued to flow down Arkan's face as he recounted his failure in the sect's trial. He felt a mix of sadness and disappointment but also a burning resolve deep within him. However, he couldn't bring himself to share the extent of his injuries, fearing it would only add to his parent's anguish.

His mother knelt beside him, gently wiping away his tears. "It's alright, my son," she said softly. "Becoming an immortal is not the only path to happiness. We love you, and we will always support you no matter what."

The old librarian smiled warmly, offering words of encouragement. "Arkan, cherish the time you have with your family. Life is full of unexpected twists and turns. Who knows what opportunities may come your way?"

Arkan nodded, grateful for the love and support of his family and the old librarian. He wiped away his tears and stood up, ready to face the challenges that lay ahead.

"Don't worry mother, I have passed the immortal test, it's just that the thought of me staying away from you pains me to no end." Arkan made an excuse credible enough for his parents to believe. 

Days passed, and Arkan spent precious moments with his family, savoring every minute of their company. He listened to his parent's stories, laughed with his siblings, and helped his mother with household chores. The love and warmth he felt from his family were the balm to his wounded spirit.

One morning, as the sun's rays spilled into his room, Arkan woke up to find his pillow damp with tears. He rubbed his eyes, feeling a heaviness in his heart. He quietly slipped out of bed, longing for a breath of fresh air to ease his troubled mind.

"Arkan, open the door! The old librarian is here," his father's voice rang through the house, breaking the silence. Arkan's heart skipped a beat, and he hastily opened the door, hoping to distract himself from his inner turmoil.

As his father entered the room, a pungent salty scent filled the air. Arkan's father wrinkled his nose in disgust. "What's that smell? It's so salty."

Arkan, taken aback, tried to hide his red and puffy eyes. He couldn't reveal that he had been crying. Men don't cry. He quickly thought of an excuse. "Um, you see, the spiritual power within the sect was overwhelming. It must have caused my body to react in strange ways last night."

His father's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Is that so?" he replied skeptically. "I suppose even spiritual power can have unusual effects. Just be careful."

Arkan breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that his father didn't probe further. His father then tossed him a set of clean clothes and made a jest about his size, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. Arkan blushed, retorting with a mix of embarrassment and defiance.(3 inches, lol)

After changing his clothes, Arkan headed towards the backyard pond to wash away the remnants of his troubled night. The cool water enveloped him, soothing his weary body and calming his restless mind.

Days turned into weeks, and soon the time came for Arkan to bid farewell to his family and return to the sect. He stood at the village gate, surrounded by his loved ones and the old librarian. Their faces were a mix of pride and sadness.

"Remember, Arkan, no matter what happens, we are always here for you," his mother whispered, tears glistening in her eyes.

Arkan nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He hugged his family tightly, etching their love and warmth into his memory. With one last look, he turned and walked away, following the path of his destiny.

*** *** ***