Arjun The Guardian Of The Moon Chronicle

The Yaksha's golden eyes glinted in the dim cave light as he studied me, his expression unreadable. I sat cross-legged in front of him, still rattled from nearly dying five minutes ago.

"So, uh, Yaksha… do you have a name, or should I just keep calling you Mask Guy in my head?" I asked, trying to mask my nervousness with humor.

The Yaksha smirked. "I have many names, kid. But those who need them are either long dead or wish they were."

"Yikes. Alright, Mr. Mysterious, tell me something about yourself. You've got the scars, the glow, the pig mask… What's your story?" I pressed, curious.

He hesitated, his smirk fading slightly. "Once, I served as a guardian of treasures beyond mortal comprehension. But now… I roam. Seeking purpose, or perhaps redemption."

"Redemption? For what?" I asked before I could stop myself.

His golden eyes darkened, and his lips tightened into a thin line. "That's enough questions, kid," he said sharply. "Some truths are better left buried."

The change in his tone sent a chill down my spine. I raised my hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. No more digging into your tragic backstory. Got it."

The Yaksha relaxed, his smirk returning. "Good. Now, let's focus on you. Your so-called lightning powers…" He let out a dry chuckle. "They're barely a flicker right now, but they have potential. If you survive, of course."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," I muttered.

He ignored me and continued, "To master electricity, you must first learn to summon it at will. Right now, it's tied to your emotions—panic, fear, desperation. That's dangerous. You'll destroy yourself before you destroy your enemies."

"Great. So how do I 'summon it at will'?" I asked, leaning forward.

The Yaksha crouched in front of me, his face inches from mine. "Close your eyes. Breathe in deeply. Now focus on your hands. Imagine the energy coursing through your veins, pooling at your fingertips."

"Sounds easy enough," I said, shrugging.

He smirked again. "It's not. Here's the catch—you don't breathe out until you feel the spark. Stop breathing, hold it, and focus everything you have on the top of your hands."

"Wait, what?!" I yelped. "That sounds… unhealthy!"

The Yaksha rolled his eyes. "You're learning to wield the force of storms, not knitting a sweater. Stop whining and do it."

Reluctantly, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. I tried to picture lightning, crackling and wild, gathering in my hands. But all I felt was the increasing burn in my lungs.

"Come on, kid," the Yaksha's voice urged. "Focus. Push past the discomfort."

Five minutes felt like an eternity. My chest screamed for air, my hands trembled, and I was about to give up when I exhaled with a loud gasp.

"Can't… do it," I wheezed, clutching my knees. "This is impossible!"

The Yaksha stood, brushing imaginary dust off his hands. "Figures. You're too soft. I'll be back later—try not to die while I'm gone."

"Wow, inspiring mentorship," I muttered as he strode out of the cave.

Left alone, I closed my eyes again, determined to prove him wrong. This time, I didn't think about his instructions. I just let my mind wander, imagining the storm within me.

And then… something shifted.

A strange warmth spread through my chest, rushing up my arms and pooling at my fingertips. My breathing slowed, then stopped entirely—not out of effort, but instinct. My hands began to tingle, and a faint crackling sound filled the air.

Unbeknownst to me, my eyes began to glow white, casting an eerie light in the cave. The energy surged, growing stronger, wilder. I felt untouchable, invincible—like a god commanding the heavens.

Then, everything went blank.

---

When I woke up, the cave was… gone. Well, half of it, anyway. Massive chunks of rock were scorched black, and the rest of the mountain looked like it had been struck by a thousand bolts of lightning.

I groaned, sitting up and rubbing my head. "What… what happened?"

"You happened," the Yaksha said, his voice cutting through the haze.

I turned to see him leaning against a boulder, arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—was it approval?

"Did I… do all this?" I asked, staring at the destruction.

"Oh, yes," he said with a dry chuckle. "You went too deep into your meditation. Your true potential leaked out, and, well…" He gestured at the ruins. "This is the result. Congrats, kid. You're a walking disaster."

I felt a pang of guilt, but also a spark of pride. "So… I'm not useless?"

He snorted. "Not completely. But uncontrolled power is just as dangerous as no power. You're lucky you didn't kill yourself—or me, for that matter."

"Wait," I said, squinting at him. "Were you watching the whole time?"

He shrugged. "Had to make sure you didn't blow up the mountain."

I shook my head, exasperated. "You could've stopped me before I destroyed half the cave!"

"And miss the show? No chance," he said with a grin.

I glared at him, but the faintest smile tugged at my lips. For all his sarcasm, the Yaksha had pushed me further than I thought possible.

"Alright, kid," he said, turning serious. "You've had your fun. Now the real work begins. If you want to control this power, you're going to have to push yourself even harder. No shortcuts, no excuses."

I nodded, determination burning in my chest. "Let's do it."

The Yaksha's grin returned, sly and almost mischievous. "Good. Just don't blow up the other half of the mountain, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," I said, rolling my eyes. But deep down, I knew this was only the beginning. My journey with the Yaksha was just getting started—and I was ready for whatever came next.