The war camp, east of the Mahi
The entourage reached the camp on the fifth day, exactly as Harigupta had promised, the sprawl of tents and picket lines visible from a rise in the road long before they actually reached the outer perimeter.
Eshaan had somehow expected, that the sight of it would settle his nerves rather than sharpen them. It did the opposite. Every step closer made the whole journey feel suddenly, uncomfortably real in a way it hadn't managed to during five days of riding, when the destination had still been an abstract thing sitting somewhere ahead of him rather than a physical place he could now see with his own eyes.
Guards at the perimeter recognized Harigupta's men on sight and waved the column through without much delay, though several soldiers watched Eshaan pass with open curiosity, word of the arrangement having clearly travelled ahead of them.
Udayaraj met them near the command tent, his expression carried the particular weariness of a man who had spent the past weeks managing more than any single person should reasonably be asked to manage.
"Acharya. And this must be Eshaan." Udayaraj bowed properly to both. "His Majesty is expecting you. He asked that you be brought to him first, before anything else."
"And the prisoner?" Eshaan asked, unable to keep the question contained any longer.
"His Majesty will explain," Udayaraj immediately replied, something careful entering his voice. "Please. This way."
The command tent
Vindhyavarman looked older than Eshaan remembered him, the weight of the campaign visibly settled into his face in ways the last several months hadn't managed to do to him back in Ujjayini's Rajyasabha (The king's council). . He rose from the map table as they entered, and his expression softened at the sight of Eshaan, though it didn't fully clear the weariness underneath it.
"Eshaan. Acharya." Vindhyavarman gestured towards the low seats near the tent's centre. "I'm glad you made the journey safely. The roads west haven't been kind to anyone travelling them lately."
"Your Majesty," Eshaan addressed, bowing properly despite the impatience burning through him. "The prisoner. Is it him?"
Vindhyavarman didn't reply immediately and took some time before answering Eshaan's question. His mind thinking that the boy has definitely grown in certain ways since their last meeting.
"I believe so," he said finally. "But I wanted you to hear something from me before you see him yourself, so that you understand what you're walking into."
"What is it, Your Majesty?"
"He's weaker than the reports suggested," Vindhyavarman said carefully. "Whatever happened to him before my patrol found him, it cost him something. He walks slowly. He tires quickly. He hasn't given a full account of himself to anyone, not to my questioners, not to me personally, though he's answered enough small things to convince me he's exactly who you suspect he is."
He paused. "I tell you this now so the sight of him doesn't shock you into silence the moment you actually see his face. He is not the man you remember from however long ago you last saw him standing tall and unbothered by anything the road put in front of him."
Eshaan's chest tightened at the king's words, the hope that his mentor was in good health was suddenly changing into dread.
"Can I see him now, Your Majesty?"
Vindhyavarman glanced at Bhaskaracharya, who gave a small, tired nod of his own.
"Yes," the king said. "Udayaraj will take you. I would ask only that you let me speak with your Acharya a while first, in private. There are matters concerning this war that cannot wait even for something as important as this."
Eshaan hesitated, torn between the urgency pulling him towards the prisoner's tent and the reluctance to leave Bhaskaracharya's side after everything.
"Go, Eshaan," Bhaskaracharya said gently. "I'll join you shortly."
Udayaraj led him out of the command tent and across the camp, the ordinary business of soldiers going about their evening tasks continuing around them, fires being lit, horses tended, the smell of cooking rice drifting from somewhere further along the row of tents. Eshaan barely noticed any of it, his attention fixed entirely on the small guarded tent visible ahead, growing larger with every step.
"How long has he been held there?" Eshaan asked.
"Since he arrived, three days past. His Majesty ordered him kept apart from the general prisoners the moment he suspected who he might be." Eshaan noticed that all this while, Udayaraj's voice had a contained neutrality in them.
"He hasn't caused any trouble. If anything, he's been the easiest prisoner this camp has held all campaign. Doesn't complain. Doesn't demand anything. Simply sits, most hours, exactly as you're about to find him."
"That sounds like him."
"You knew him well, then. Before all this."
"He taught me most of what I know and was the first mentor that I ever had after my father." Eshaan continued, "More than that, I wouldn't be standing here at all if not for him."
Udayaraj didn't press further, and the two of them covered the remaining distance in silence, the guards outside straightened slightly as they approached.
The tent stood apart from the others, the two guards posted outside were guarding the entrance with all the stillness and seriousness that was asked of them. Udayaraj spoke quietly to them before lifting the flap himself, gesturing Eshaan through ahead of him.
The inside was dim, lit by a single small lamp, and it took Eshaan's eyes a moment to properly adjust to the low light.
An old man sat cross-legged near the tent's centre, his robes plain and travel-worn, his frame thinner than Eshaan remembered, his hair longer and greyer than it had been the day they'd parted outside Ujjayini's gates. His eyes were closed, his breathing slow and even, it seemed like he was in deep meditation.
Eshaan's throat closed entirely as he barely managed anything but a whisper. "Acharya,"
As the old man's eyes opened slowly, Eshaan for one terrible, drawn out moment feared that he had been wrong all this while and the face that would turn towards him would belong to a stranger after all. His five days of hope would collapse into nothing in the matter of a single second.
Then the man smiled, faint, tired but unmistakably familiar which made every doubt Eshaan had been carrying, dissolve at once.
"Eshaan," Kripa addressed, his voice rougher and weaker than Eshaan remembered. "You came."
Eshaan crossed the small tent in two steps and knelt beside him, unable to find words as tears trickled down his cheeks. He simply stared at the man he'd feared that he might never see again.
"You're really here," Eshaan finally managed.
"I thought. I didn't know what to think, Acharya. You weren't sending any news, neither replying to my letters, nor I was getting any news of you. In midst, I find your staff somehow and a letter from his majesty, I didn't know what to believe."
"I am sorry for everything you had to go through thanks to this old man," Kripa said as he was genuinely regretful of his actions. "I would have written sooner, if I'd had the means to."
"The staff. You traded it away."
"I did trade it to a merchant near the passes, some weeks back when I couldn't find a way to the next city, and the coin started to run out." Kripa's mouth twitched, "I didn't expect it to find its way back to you quite so directly. But, I suppose I underestimated my pupil who would definitely looked for his old mentor and recognise his old staff" Kripa chuckled lightly.
"I bought it the moment I saw it. I didn't even think about it properly, Acharya. I just knew."
"That doesn't surprise me either," Kripa said quietly. "You were always that sharp and someone who doesn't forget something easily."
"What happened to you?"
Kripa was quiet a moment, his eyes moved briefly towards the tent's entrance, where Udayaraj had stepped back to give them at least the appearance of privacy.
"That is a longer story than either of us has the strength for tonight," Kripa said finally. "But I will tell you the gist of it, since you have clearly earned that much for the worry I have caused you." He paused, gathering himself.
"I went into search for something, Eshaan. Something connected to that mark you carry, something older than this age, and to a warning I received some months ago from a trusted source, one of the Navgranthika (Nine Unknowns)."
Several questions flooded into Eshaan's mind. Acharya knows the Nine Unknowns? Who among the nine has been his source? Did Acharya send Vidhya?
"What warning?"
"I and the Nine Unknowns know that there is something more powerful than the Nine Books that have existed in reality before but are myths now." Kripa answered quietly.
Eshaan's eyes popped at the words of Acharya Kripa. "Something more powerful than the Nine Books?" He repeated.
"Yes, Eshaan. And we suspect that it is somewhere hidden, protected by a group of Rishis (Sages)."
"What?"
"We don't actually know anything about it. It's still a speculation but I think, This more powerful thing could be a hint towards the ancient texts' least known weapon, 'The Divine Astras' "
"Are you telling me, the divine weapons from the mythologies are all real, and there could be a group that protects it?"
"Yes." Kripa took a deep breath and continued.
"As per the ancient texts, the last mention of Astra was like this - "The knowledge of the divine weapons were forever sealed as it was far too dangerous for the next ages, and a group of sages were given the task of protecting it until the humankind was ready to wield them again."
"What is Acharya saying?" Eshaan thought.
The divine weapons? Sealed? The group that protects them? Humankind ready to wield it again?
"Wait wait wait, The divine weapons from the mythologies are real. Check."
"The knowledge was sealed, not lost…"
"In my original world, the knowledge was lost. The ancient texts mentioned that the knowledge was completely lost as the last ones to knew it, never shared it as a promise to Krishna."
"What is happening?"
AM I IN AN ALTERNATE TIMELINE WHERE IT FOLLOWED A DIFFERENT ROUTE?"