The days that followed were strange, dreamlike, and yet too real to be a dream. Every morning, I woke up to the sound of waves touching the shore and birds humming a tune that was soft and unfamiliar. Days here felt longer, and nights glowed faintly, as if the stars never truly left the sky.
The twenty masters who found me had built small wooden homes around a great silver tree at the island's center. That tree stood taller than any mountain I could see, its huge roots spreading through land and water alike. Its leaves sparkled at night, raining down glowing dust that drifted like fireflies. The air near it always felt warm and calm, and no wind ever dared to disturb it.
One morning, after a quiet breakfast of fruits and clear water, I sat near the silver tree, staring at its reflection in a small lake. The old man—the same who had first spoken to me—walked over and sat beside me. For the first time, he said his name.
"I am Elder Aarion," he said softly. "And this land you see around you, child, is called Aarvak Island, the Island of Eternal Veil."
He looked toward the shimmering sea and continued, "It appears in the world of men only once every twenty years. It stays for seven days, then vanishes again into the fold between realms. No ship can find it; no map can show it. It reveals itself only to those marked by destiny."
"The Eternal Veil…" I repeated slowly, rolling the words in my mouth. "Why is it called like that?"
Aarion's eyes glowed strangely in the daylight, as if reflecting secrets hidden since ages past. "Because it sits between two worlds," he said. "The world of humans and the world of energies—the realm of fate itself. It is the veil that hides the bridge between life and spirit."
I looked up at the faint mist that surrounded the horizon. It shimmered like a curtain made of light. Sometimes, it moved like a living thing, whispering softly. I'd thought it was just fog, but now I realised—it was the veil he spoke of.
"Long ago," Aarion continued, "this island was once a cradle for the guardians of balance. Spirits, sages, and heroes from across the ages trained here. They protected the harmony between light and shadow, between creation and destruction. But... when men grew greedy, they forgot the balance. The island then vanished, hidden by its own will, waiting for one soul worthy enough to awaken it again."
I listened, my heart slow and heavy. "And that's me?"
He nodded. "You, Mukul Sharma, carry the mark of the Seven Stars. When you stepped here, the island awoke after twenty years of silence. The Veil lifted for you."
That made no sense to me, yet somehow, I could feel that his words were true. The earth beneath me hummed faintly, and the silver tree's leaves swayed even though no wind passed.
"Does anyone else live here?" I asked, still half afraid.
Aarion smiled. "No ordinary life does. Plants, yes. Beasts, yes. But most were born from energy, not flesh. They are sparks of old worlds, reborn again and again. This is not a place meant for the living to stay—it's a place meant for the destined to learn."
He stood and motioned for me to follow. We walked past the lake toward the edge of the island, where the sea met cliffs carved in strange symbols that glowed faintly. The air smelt sweet there, heavy with flowers and rain.
From that height, I could see everything—the forests, mountains, waterfalls, rivers glimmering like silver, and far out, the circle of mist glowing around the entire island. Inside the mist, the water shimmered endlessly, but beyond it—nothing. Just emptiness, like the sky had swallowed the ocean whole.
Suddenly, I noticed the mist pulsing like a heartbeat.
"It moves," I whispered.
Aarion nodded. "Yes. It breathes. That is the Veil. It protects this world from being seen or reached by human eyes. Even if someone sails straight toward it, they will keep circling forever, never finding this place. The island allows only the chosen to enter—those tied to its energy."
I swallowed hard. "But… what if I want to go home?"
He looked at me, silent for a long time. "The Veil takes only those who are ready," he said at last. "And it releases them only when they have fulfilled their purpose. Until then, it guards them from both harm and escape."
His words struck deep in my chest. I turned away, hiding my tears. "So I can never leave?"
"Not yet," Aarion said gently. "But remember—no destiny chains without reason. You are here for a truth greater than pain or fear."
As he said this, a soft vibration passed through the ground beneath us. The mountain peaks in the distance glowed faintly, and the sky turned a shade darker, as though evening had arrived early.
Aarion looked up, a faint smile on his old face. "The island awakens fully now," he whispered. "It knows you are here. Its heart begins to breathe."
In that moment, I could feel it too. The silver tree behind us shimmered brighter. The air carried thousands of faint voices—whispers, ancient chants, maybe memories of those who had stood here before me. My small body trembled, yet I couldn't look away. I was watching something far older than humanity itself come alive again.
A soft light began to form over the silver tree—slowly rising until it floated above the trunk. It expanded, forming a ring, and inside that ring, seven faint lights blinked like stars. My mark burnt slightly, warm instead of painful.
"The Seal of the Seven," Aarion murmured. "When the seven lights align again, the destiny written for you will unfold fully. Until then, you must learn. The island will test you, shape you, and prepare you."
He placed a hand on my head. "Do not fear this place, Mukul. Aarvak does not harm its chosen. It hides them… teaches them… and when their time comes, it sends them back to their world, ready to guard it."
His words felt heavy, carved in my heart like stone.
I looked one last time over the sea. The mist shimmered softly, closing in again, and I realized what that meant. No one would see this island for another twenty years—by then, twenty years older, I might not even be a boy anymore.
I took a deep breath, the salty air stinging my throat. "Then I'll learn," I said softly. "I'll do whatever it takes."
Aarion's eyes glimmered with pride. "Good. Because you are the island's heir now—the bridge between the worlds."
As the sun fell beyond the silver horizon, the seven stars appeared faintly above the mist again, shining like a blessing from the heavens. And I, Mukul Sharma, realized that this mysterious island wasn't just my prison—it was my beginning.