A Few Day Later.
Hamsa's chamibers.
It was the evening and a few hours before dinner was about to be surved.
The sun was getting low though golden hour still was a ways off.
The Royal District was a buss with people trying to rapup their day time work, the kitchens steaming with final meal preperations and the guards getting to change their shitfs.
Hamsa was in his room sitting in the balcony sofa, Chotu was was next to him, laying beside its master.
On the ground next to the sofa there as a small pile of mana crystiles, and beside that another even small pile of the same but broken.
Hamsa was himself busy with something in his hands, it was a mana crystial.
Crack*Boom
The crystile cracked and exploded in a small explotion in front of Hamsa face, though no damage happened as he made a barrier around the crytile he was working with.
"No again." Hamsa said as he sighed in exostation.
Hanging hid head up looking outside, while his left hand moved to Chotu rubbing the tigers head and getting a satisfied purr in return while the right hand cleaned up.
----------------
Gardens
As Hamsa grew increasingly frustrated in his chambers, the atmosphere in the gardens was far more relaxed.
Mahadevi Bhadra sat across from Rajkumar Garuda, the two of them engaged in a board game, the pieces laid neatly between them. The evening air was calm, and the faint sound of birds and distant movement from the palace made for an easy, unhurried setting.
The Mahadevi cast the shells and made her move, a small, knowing smile forming on her lips.
"So," she said lightly, not even looking up from the board, "would you like to explain how you managed to get thrown across the training grounds today?"
Garuda froze for half a second.
Then, slowly, he moved one of his pieces as if nothing had happened.
"Well… Mother," he began, "I wouldn't say thrown…"
The Mahadevi raised an eyebrow, still calm.
"Oh? Should I call it flying, then?"
Garuda coughed lightly, suddenly very interested in the board.
"It was just a minor miscalculation," he said. "And nothing serious happened, so I'd say it went well."
"Hm."
She made her next move without hesitation.
"I'm glad to hear your definition of 'well' includes being sent across the field."
Garuda let out a small, defeated sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"That was… a one-time thing."
The Mahadevi's lips curved slightly.
"Of course."
Garuda quickly shifted his focus, clearly trying to recover.
"Mother," he said, placing his next move a little too carefully, "have you noticed anything… unusual about Brother lately?"
The Mahadevi didn't respond immediately.
She knew exactly what he was doing.
Still, she played along.
"No," she said calmly. "Should I have?"
Garuda hesitated, then leaned forward slightly.
"Well…," he said. "For a while now, it feels like Elder Brother is… off."
Her gaze lifted to him now.
"Off?"
"In sparring… and even with mana," Garuda continued. "It's like he's not as sharp as before."
That was enough to shift her attention.
"Is that so?"
Garuda nodded.
"And the strange part is… it doesn't feel intentional. It's like even he doesn't know why."
The Mahadevi did not reply.
-------------------------------
Hamsa's Chambers
"What the fuck is happening?" Hamsa said.
He had given up on what he was trying to do and now lay sprawled across the sofa, using Chotu as both a headrest and backrest. The tiger didn't seem to mind, remaining completely relaxed as its master sank into it. On the floor nearby lay the small pile of mana crystals he had been working through, along with the broken remains of those that had failed.
As he spoke, a familiar spiritual presence appeared in front of him.
"You're back."
"Yep, I sure am. And as for the data, it'll be in your head soon."
Hamsa didn't respond immediately. Then after a few seconds, he spoke again, his tone quieter but edged with frustration.
"My mana has been acting up. You know why?"
He lifted his free hand slightly, staring at it.
"Even something as simple as infusing mana into these crystals… sure, it's not easy, but it shouldn't be to the point where I can't do it at all."
Adi watched him for a few seconds before replying.
"Is that all?"
"Well…"
Hamsa raised his hand.
He first attempted to manipulate the water in the basin near the balcony entrance—but nothing happened. Then he tried the air around him—again, nothing. Finally, he forced a Mana Zone into existence; it formed unevenly, unstable, and collapsed almost immediately.
"It's like my mana isn't listening to me. I can barely sense it properly… I can barely even sense your mana in me, let alone use any of it."
Adi's expression shifted into something mixed—part concern, part confusion, with a hint of unease.
"Give me some time." Adi said, his face showing he was thinking of something. "I think I might know what it is, but I'm not sure yet. I'll tell you once I have something concrete."
"Very well."
______________________________________________
Several Weeks Later.
Hamsa was in his chambers, following his usual routine.
His days had settled into a strict rhythm. He woke just before or with the sunrise, finished his morning preparations, and stepped out to train in his makeshift gym. From there, he moved to the training grounds to oversee the Royal Guards' morning drills.
Once that was done, he returned to bathe and have breakfast, timing it just right before court began. Now that he was Yuvraj, his presence there was no longer optional. In the absence of his parents, he would be the one presiding over proceedings.
After court, if there were no additional matters—no private audiences, no council discussions, no urgent affairs—he returned to his chambers. The space itself reflected his priorities: half living quarters, half office, with everything to the left of his bed and opposite the balcony redesigned into a working area.
Today was one such day.
Hamsa sat at his desk, a report in hand, while Gopal delivered his monthly briefing.
Or at least—that was how it was supposed to be.
Because Hamsa wasn't really listening.
His eyes remained on the report, but his mind had drifted elsewhere—somewhere between zoning out and outright falling asleep.
"Yu—"
"Yuvraj!"
Gopal had been calling out to him repeatedly, his voice growing sharper with each attempt as Hamsa continued to stare blankly ahead, completely spaced out.
Hamsa suddenly snapped back, blinking once before turning toward him.
"Yes. If that's all, you are dismissed."
Gopal froze, a puzzled expression forming almost instantly.
"Yuvraj… I haven't even gone through half of it."
Hamsa paused.
"Oh… sorry."
Gopal hesitated for a moment before speaking again, more carefully this time.
"Yuvraj, if I may… I suggest you rest for the day. I can report the rest tomorrow."
Hamsa thought for a moment, then gave a small nod.
"Very well."
He dismissed Gopal and moved to the balcony—his usual place to rest during the day. The air was calm, and the palace noises faded into the background as he sat there without doing anything in particular.
Soon, Chotu returned from its daily excursion outside the capital and jumped up beside him, settling in comfortably.
Time passed.
Quietly.
Slowly.
Until—
Hamsa fell asleep.
He only woke later, not to a voice or touch—but to hunger.
He had missed lunch.
From what he could tell, the attendants had chosen not to wake him. Seeing their lord rest during the day—something rare enough on its own—they had left him undisturbed, caught somewhere between fear of overstepping and a quiet relief that he was, after all, still human enough to need rest.
For a brief moment, Hamsa considered calling them out for it.
Then decided against it.
He got up and made his way toward the dining hall, Chotu soon following close behind.
As he made his way down from his chambers, Hamsa's thoughts turned inward, slipping into a familiar conversation.
Hey… any progress on what's happening with me?
Nothing solid so far. Though I did find something else in the process.
…What?
Hamsa let out a quiet sigh.
What is it this time?
Nothing major. Just the reason why my early memories are missing… and a bit more about myself.
Hamsa frowned slightly as he continued walking.
I asked you to figure out why I can't use my mana properly—yours included.
How did that turn into you solving your own problems?
Well… while working on your issue, I found answers for mine. That's both good and bad news, depending on how you look at it.
Hamsa exhaled slowly, irritation slipping through.
Whatever. Just tell me when you actually figure out what's wrong with me.
Hamsa paused for a second before he continued.
I already have enough to deal with—I don't need this added on top.
Alright, alright.
As this exchange played out in Hamsa's mind, he had already made his way to the dining hall. The moment he arrived, food was brought out—hot and ready, as expected.
He took his seat, with Chotu settling beside him. A large serving of meat was placed for the tiger, while Hamsa ate his usual meal in silence.
After finishing, Hamsa decided to walk around for a while.
He moved through the palace first, passing ministers and scribes as they worked, occasionally pausing to observe or listen in on matters being discussed. From there, he glanced over the barracks from a distance.
Once that was done, he made his way to the temples in the Royal District.
But he didn't stay long.
The moment he arrived, gurus, acharyas, and students alike gathered around him, flooding him with questions and pulling him into discussions. Under normal circumstances, he would have handled it without much issue—but today, he didn't have the mental or physical bandwidth for it. Holding even a simple conversation felt draining, and he knew that if he stayed any longer, he'd start making mistakes.
So he left soon after.
Now back in the palace, Hamsa found himself wandering aimlessly through the corridors, without any real destination, until a voice called out—
"Hamsa."
He recognized it immediately.
Turning, he found exactly who he expected.
His mother—Mahadevi Bhadra.
He walked toward her.
She stood with her usual escort—Lata at her side, followed by two dasis and a retinue of Royal Guards, three women and two men, all maintaining their positions with quiet discipline.
By the time Hamsa had even taken a few steps in her direction, Chotu had already broken off and dashed ahead. The Mahadevi had knelt down, and the tiger was now leaning fully into her hands, being patted and spoiled to its complete satisfaction.
Hamsa slowed slightly as he approached, watching the scene.
He did not look impressed.
"You are my pet, right?"
Hamsa said it flatly, looking down at the traitor.
This was the same tiger that usually stayed glued to him like a shadow—ready to turn anyone careless enough to approach into history.
And yet—
Here it was.
Flat on the ground.
Eyes half-closed.
Leaning into his mother's hands like it had never harmed anything in its life.
Chotu didn't even acknowledge him.
Hamsa stared for a moment.
"...I see. Good to know your loyalties are… flexible."
Chotu let out a pleased rumble.
---------------------------
Mahadevi's Office
After their encounter in the palace, Hamsa followed his mother to her chambers. The two now sat across from each other, a board game laid out between them, the quiet rhythm of play filling the space as pieces shifted back and forth.
Chotu lay between them, his head resting near Hamsa as the Yuvraj absentmindedly ran his hand over the tiger's fur, while the Mahadevi occasionally reached over to rub and scratch him as well.
As the game progressed, mother and son spoke of their day—small things, routine matters, how things had been going.
"Also, Hamsa… before I forget, there's something I need to tell you."
"What is it, Mother?"
Hamsa asked without looking up immediately, his gaze still on the board. But his blinking was off—too frequent, too deliberate. With every few blinks, his eyes flickered faintly with a white hue before returning to normal.
The Mahadevi noticed.
Her hand slowed slightly over Chotu's fur.
"Before that… are you alright?"
Hamsa paused, his fingers resting on a piece mid-move. He closed his eyes, pressing lightly against his temple as he exhaled.
"It's nothing to worry about, Mother. My mana is just acting up. Give me a second."
He leaned back slightly, eyes still closed, focusing.
For a brief moment, the air around him tightened—then eased.
From the outside, it looked stable.
Hamsa opened his eyes again and looked up.
"Now… what is it that you wanted to tell me?"
The Mahadevi still looked concerned, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer before she continued.
"Take Garuda with you. It will be good for him to experience what it's like outside the capital."
Hamsa went quiet.
His fingers moved again, but slower this time, picking up a piece and turning it slightly before placing it down.
He thought for a moment.
Then spoke.
"Mother… are you sure?"
Hamsa looked up from the board as he spoke, though his focus didn't fully settle. His fingers hovered over a piece before placing it down—not where it should have gone.
"While I'm in Taxila, as its governor and that of the northern provinces, things might work out. I'll send him to the gurukuls or the university there. But once I leave for the Parthian Empire to honor our end of the treaty…"
He exhaled faintly.
"It will be war. That is not something an eleven-year-old should see."
Another move followed—sloppier than the last.
"Not to mention the risk of both heirs to the throne being in the same place… on a battlefield."
"You're right in saying that."
The Mahadevi moved her piece without hesitation, her hand still resting lightly on Chotu as she spoke.
"But aren't you the same? You're twelve, yet you command troops and govern territory."
Her fingers slowed slightly against the tiger's fur.
"And as for your concern—I trust you to retreat if needed."
A faint pause.
"That is… if you lose the battle. And if someone strong enough to defeat you even exists."
Hamsa's hand stilled over the board. For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze fixed but unfocused as if searching for an argument that never came.
"Very well."
He lifted his head, meeting her eyes directly, all traces of fatigue and distraction gone as if they had never been there.
"On one condition."
Chotu shifted slightly as his tone changed.
"I want Garuda to take a life before we leave."
His voice remained flat.
"If he can do that—without hesitation, without breaking—and both Father and I are satisfied… then—and only then—will I take him with me."
"Very well. If that is what you wish."
The Mahadevi held his gaze for a brief moment before returning to the board.
"Though your father would likely agree regardless."
She placed her final piece.
The game ended, and Hamsa lost.
He glanced at the board, a faint flicker of annoyance passing through him—but it faded just as quickly.
He was too tired to care.
A brief silence followed as his gaze shifted to Chotu, who remained sprawled comfortably between them. Then, without saying anything, Hamsa got up and walked over to his mother, lowering himself beside her before resting his head on her lap.
The Mahadevi was caught slightly off guard—surprised, but not displeased.
"You really are tired, huh."
Her tone softened as she gently ran her fingers through his hair.
As she looked closer, she noticed the state of his ears and subtly motioned to Lata.
Lata gave a small nod and moved without a word.
Meanwhile, the Mahadevi continued to stroke Hamsa's head, her expression shifting—part relief, part concern—as she watched him.
And as the quiet settled around them, she spoke again.
"One more thing. You will be meeting Rajkumari Shirin—your bride-to-be. So be on your best behaviour." The Mahadevi spoke.
"Though the Parthians came to us out of desperation, if their situation improves and our shortcomings come to light, the marriage could be called off. Not that I think they will, considering what we know… but it never hurts to be careful." She continued.
Hamsa's eyes shifted slightly at that, a brief flicker of surprise passing through him, but it faded just as quickly as the rest of his thoughts seemed to blur under the weight of exhaustion. He didn't respond immediately, his gaze unfocused as he lay there, his body sinking further into the moment of rest, and it was only after a noticeable pause that he finally spoke.
"Why?"
The Mahadevi glanced down at him as she continued to run her fingers through his hair, her movements slowing just slightly as she answered, her tone calm and measured.
"From what was written in the letter, she intended to travel there regardless, but now that you will be there as well, it seems she wishes to meet you in person. You two have yet to meet, after all.[1]"
"Well, if that is how it is, then that is how it is. I see no issue in it."
Hamsa spoke without much resistance.
With that, they fell back into conversation, the tone light, though the Mahadevi took it upon herself to repeatedly remind him to behave when the time came. At some point, she motioned for him to turn around so she could work on his other ear, and Hamsa complied, shifting his position without much thought as he sat there.
It was then—
His eyes slipped out of control again.
For a brief moment, they fully activated, the world around him shifting as layers of mana came into view, flowing, overlapping, alive in ways unseen by normal sight.
And then—
Hamsa froze.
His eyes widened.
He shot up to his feet so abruptly that both the Mahadevi and Lata were caught off guard, Chotu lifting its head slightly at the sudden movement.
"You… you're pregnant!!"
Hamsa blinked rapidly, forcing his vision to steady before looking again, more carefully this time, as if afraid he had made a mistake.
But he hadn't.
There were two distinct mana signatures.
One was his mother's—familiar, stable.
The other—small, faint, centered at her womb.
A second circuit.
Weak, but undeniably there.
From what little he could make out with his untrained perception and limited understanding, it was still early… around ten weeks, perhaps.
"What?"
The Mahadevi's hand instinctively moved to her abdomen, surprise overtaking her composure as she looked at him, trying to understand what he had just said.
Lata, though momentarily disoriented, recovered quickly and stepped closer to her lady, positioning herself beside her while still remaining cautious of the tiger just inches away.
"This is bad… I shouldn't be here. My mana is acting up—I don't know what might happen or when it could happen…"
Hamsa began rambling, his thoughts spilling out faster than he could control, his voice uneven as his gaze shifted rapidly between his surroundings and his own hands, as if trying to grasp something slipping away from him. Then, forcing himself to stop, he turned sharply toward Lata, his expression tightening as he tried to regain some control.
"Inform my father. And Matha Durga—she'll get word to Acharya Ram."
His words came out more rigid now, but his body betrayed him—small, involuntary flinches running through him with every movement, every breath slightly off.
"And mother—"
He turned back toward her, but the moment he did, whatever composure he had managed to gather began to break again.
"Until this issue of mine is taken care of, don't come near me and—"
He stopped mid-sentence, his breath catching as his thoughts began slipping out of order.
What followed was no longer controlled.
Still panicking, already exhausted, Hamsa spoke again—but now the words came on their own, fast, layered, each thought reshaping itself as it left his mouth, as if something deep within him was forcing his knowledge into forms this world could accept.
"Count the days… from her last cycle—don't guess, write it down. The growth will follow a pattern—if it stops or changes suddenly, that's wrong."
His hand trembled slightly as he spoke, fingers tightening unconsciously.
"No pressure to the abdomen—none. Even minor blows… even accidents… they matter now."
He took a step back without realizing it, his breathing uneven.
"Food must be clean—fresh. No spoiled grain, no sour milk kept too long. Boiled water only… let it cool before drinking."
His words began to overlap, faster now.
"Check her pulse when she rests and when she wakes—if it becomes too fast without cause, or too weak, that's not normal. Watch her color—lips, nails—if they pale too much, she's not getting enough."
He paused only for a fraction of a second, as if correcting himself mid-thought.
"No strong herbs unless necessary—some will… disturb the balance. Keep her strength steady instead of forcing it."
His balance faltered slightly, one hand moving to steady himself against nothing.
"If there is pain—sharp, not dull—especially low… don't ignore it. And if there is bleeding—any amount—send word immediately, don't wait."
His voice dropped slightly, more strained now.
"Keep her body warm, but not overheated. No sudden chills. No long fasting."
Even now, the structure held—no foreign terms, no direct references—only translated knowledge, reshaped into something that fit the world around him.
"Have someone observe her regularly—not just once. Patterns matter more than single signs…"
His breathing hitched and words slowed.
But the filter held—Even now.
Especially now.
"Hamsa, calm yourself down."
The Mahadevi rose at once, closing the distance in a single step and gripping his shoulders firmly, her fingers tightening just enough to steady him despite everything he had just said. Her voice remained calm—deliberately so—but her eyes were fixed on him now, sharp, watching every flicker, every loss of control as he unraveled in front of her.
For a moment—
Hamsa stopped.
The words cut off.
His body went still under her hands, as if something inside him had been forced into place.
His breathing slowed—but only slightly. Each inhale dragged in deeper than it should, each exhale heavier, uneven, like something resisting even that.
Then—It slipped.
Not all at once or violently.
But worse.
The control he always held so tightly began to fail—not snapping, not shattering—but slipping from his grasp.
Mana began to pour out of him.
Like a reactor whose output had always been tightly regulated, carefully dampened and contained—now losing that control. What had been held at a safe, minimal release began returning to its natural output, a steady, overwhelming stream that no longer adjusted, no longer responded.
The air around him grew heavy, dense, subtle distortions forming as that suppressed weight filled the space, something vast pressing outward without direction, no longer contained, no longer held back.
His vision blurred.
The edges of the world softened, lost.
His body followed.
Strength drained from his limbs as if something was pulling it out from within, his balance faltering despite the Mahadevi's grip, his weight beginning to sink against her hands.
His fingers twitched once.
Then went still.
His knees gave way.
And before she could fully catch him—
Hamsa collapsed.
Unconscious.
[1] For the era they are in, this is not out of the ordinary. In classical India, while child marriages did occur—as they did in most parts of the world at the time, especially among nobles—the way they functioned was somewhat different from what one might assume. In many cases, once a marriage was arranged, an initial ceremony would take place. This was often similar to an engagement, formally establishing the alliance between the two families, though in some instances this ceremony could also be performed later .After that, both children would typically continue living in their respective households. During this period, they would focus on their upbringing and education, learning the skills and knowledge expected of them based on their roles and status. Only after a few years—usually after puberty—would married life properly begin. That said, depending on the circumstances, there were cases where the couple might live under the same roof earlier.