Tejasu: The Rise Of Portal

Chapter 1: The Portal Before the Field There are two worlds in this story. The first is called the Wild World — wild in every sense of the word. Storms flew through its skies like predators. Trees danced without wind. The ground pulsed with ancient power. The people who lived there were warriors, guardians of a great force known as Potesto. The second is called the Radiant World, where the skies were always bright, the people always smiled, and the land needed nothing. There, peace was not just a dream — it was a way of life. The story begins in the Wild World. It begins with the birth of two children. --- It was just before dawn in the Field, a sacred land in the Wild World, hidden deep beneath the roots of the great Arathi Mountains. The Field was a place guarded by wise masters — the Gurus of the Field — who alone had the right to live in harmony with the most powerful Potesto energies. And that morning, inside the stone-walled birthing chamber carved into the side of a glowing cliff, two children were born. The moment they opened their eyes, a strange silence fell over the world. Not a bird sang. Not a breeze moved. Then — the wild world trembled. A young warrior who stood guard outside the chamber ran in, breathless. “Gurus!” he shouted. “Come quickly! You must see the sky!” The oldest Guru, Bothi, stepped out with steady footsteps and raised his gaze upward. His face tightened. Above the Wild World, in the open skies beyond the mountain cliffs — they had returned. The Aniyagraha beings. They were massive creatures of twisting shadows and glowing outlines, larger than temples, moving with both grace and menace. Their presence brought with it a change in the air — heavier, like the pressure before a lightning storm. “The Aniyagraha…” whispered one of the villagers. “But they disappeared long ago,” said another. “Why have they returned now?” Guru Bothi did not speak. He stared silently, then turned back to the others. “Prepare the warriors. Allow the people to use their Potesto powers. The children must be protected.” --- The horns were blown. The ancient drum of war was sounded from the cliff towers. “All who bear Potesto, gather!” shouted a warrior across the village square. Families ran to their shelters, and trained defenders of the Field formed a line, standing between the village and the sky. Then, without warning — a light descended. From among the Aniyagraha, a beam of pure golden light burst forward, reaching from the heavens to the wild world, stopping just in front of the Field. It was not a normal light. It was thick. Heavy. Alive. The people gasped. “They’re using… light?” someone asked. “But their power was always darkness.” The beam of light hit the land — and through it, the Aniyagraha entered the Wild World. They were no longer just shapes in the sky. They now stood upon the very the wild world the people had sworn to protect. “Hold your ground!” cried a commander. “Use your Potesto!” The wild world glowed. Men and women lifted their hands to the ground. The powers answered. Flame burst from palms. Shields of wind rose. Lightning cracked through the air. The battle had begun. The Aniyagraha were powerful — they moved as though they knew the land better than the people themselves. But the warriors fought back fiercely. For every blow that fell, they answered with three more. For every loss, they returned with fury. At the heart of the Field, inside the hidden stone room, the two children were guarded by the Gurus. Magical circles were drawn around their cradles. Symbols glowed softly in the air. “We must keep them safe,” whispered one of the younger Gurus. “Even if all else falls.” “We will,” said Bothi. “That is our vow.” --- Hours passed. The battle continued with no rest, no mercy. The Wild World itself fought alongside its people — trees bent to strike enemies, rivers rose to wash them away, and even the stones seemed to move to block the path of the Aniyagraha. Eventually, slowly… the tide began to turn. The people of the Wild World fought with everything they had. They combined their Potesto powers in new ways. They adapted. They became not just defenders, but a force of nature. And at last — the Aniyagraha began to fall. One by one, they were struck down by the ancient power of the people. Their bodies vanished into ash and starlight, leaving behind silence. When the last one disappeared, the skies cleared. The golden beam faded. The Wild World had won. The children were safe. --- At that very moment, in a land far beyond the reach of battle — a child was born in the Radiant World. The sun shone brighter than usual. Flowers bloomed where the baby cried. The guru Viscar smiled, unaware of what had just happened in the Wild World. No Aniyagraha ever visited their skies. And yet — the timing was exact. Three children. Born at the same moment. One in Radiant World. Two in the Wild World. --- In the days that followed, the people of the Wild World could not rest. “Why now?” they asked. “Why did the Aniyagraha attack after so many years?” “They had left us alone for generations…” “Is it because of the two children?” “That must be it,” someone said. “They arrived the moment the children were born.” “But why would the Aniyagraha want to harm babies?” “We don’t know what the children are,” a warrior replied. “Maybe the Aniyagraha do.” Questions spread like wildfire. The people gathered before the Field to demand answers. “We must speak to the Gurus!” a woman called. “They will know!” --- And so, the entire village began to move toward the Field. Men, women, elders, young warriors — all of them came to stand at the edge of the sacred grove, seeking guidance. That’s when they saw it. Just in front of the Field — a portal had appeared. A massive, swirling gateway of light and mist. It hovered above the ground, humming softly. The edges of the portal shimmered like moving water, and in its center was something else — a spiral of energy that pulsed gently, almost like a heartbeat. “What… is that?” someone whispered. The people stood frozen. No one had seen such a thing in generations. Maybe never. Guru Bothi stepped forward, his face pale, his staff trembling slightly in his hand. “This…” he said slowly, “this is no ordinary magic.” “What does it lead to?” asked a boy near the front. Bothi didn’t answer immediately. He turned toward the Field, where the two newborns slept peacefully under sacred protection. Then he looked back at the portal. “It appeared only after the children survived. Only after the Aniyagraha were defeated.” “Is it… connected to them?” someone asked. Bothi stared into the swirling light. “I believe it is.” “Then what do we do?” a voice asked from the crowd. Guru Bothi raised his head, his voice calm but firm. “We enter only when we are ready. For beyond that portal… may lie the answers we fear to ask.” To Be Continued…