---
The sun was rising behind the hills when Parashu stood before the broken gates of the old academy.
Weeds had grown through the cracks. The buildings were falling apart. But in that silence… there was something alive.
Hope.
Master Vishma stood beside him, his hands behind his back. His eyes were not on the ruins. They were on the future.
"This place made warriors," he said quietly. "Not just killers. Not always. We will rebuild it, Parashu. Brick by brick. Mind by mind."
Parashu looked unsure. "What do you mean?"
"You'll see," Vishma replied. "Now follow me."
---
The first few days were hard.
The academy wasn't ready yet, so training began in the forest behind the ruins. Vishma called it "The Ground of Scars." Here, warriors once trained until their bones broke and hearts turned to steel.
Parashu was given a simple task.
Lift a rock.
Not a huge one. Just a medium-sized black stone covered in dust.
"Why?" he asked.
Vishma smiled. "Because it carries weight—like your past."
Parashu tried once. Twice. He failed.
"Not with your hands," Vishma said. "With your breath. Focus your blood. Feel your bones. That's how warriors are built."
---
Each day was harder than the last.
He had to run barefoot through thorns.
He had to fight with wooden sticks against three opponents.
He had to meditate under freezing waterfalls.
One night, bleeding and shaking, Parashu whispered, "Why do I feel like dying?"
Vishma replied, "Because you're becoming someone new. And the old you must die first."
---
On the seventh day, something changed.
Parashu was meditating near the fire when his body started to glow faintly. His blood felt hot. The same rock he couldn't lift now floated before him.
Vishma opened his eyes.
"It has begun," he said. "The fire in your blood… finally woke up."
---
But this was just the beginning.
The academy had more than just training.
It held secrets. Hidden rooms. Old scrolls. Ghosts of warriors long dead.
And one locked chamber beneath the ground…
…where the weapon of Jamadigini was buried in chains.
---