Morning arrived softly over Vyomtara Manor.Mist clung to the lower gardens, drifting between carved pillars and flowering shrubs. The sun had not yet fully risen, and the world felt quiet—neither night nor fully day, a pause before routine resumed.
In the inner courtyard, three travel packs rested near the stone wall.Not large.Not heavy.Only what was necessary.
Aditya, Sasi, and Aryan stood side by side, facing Rishi Vedananda.The Rishi's staff was grounded beside him, his gaze calm, turned not toward the manor—but toward the distant mountains that cut the horizon like silent guardians. For two months, those peaks would be their training ground.
Footsteps approached behind them.Duke Varesh walked first, composed as ever, though his hands were clasped behind his back tighter than usual. Duchess Elaria followed, her shawl drawn close, eyes fixed on her sons as though committing them to memory.Sarvani and Achintya stood slightly apart.The grandparents said nothing.They had lived long enough to know that moments like this did not require many words.
Aditya broke the stillness first."So…" he said, forcing a grin that didn't quite hold. "We're really going."
Rishi turned his head slightly."Preparation began the moment you agreed," he said.
Sasi adjusted the strap of his pack, expression calm. "Two months isn't that long."
Elaria stepped forward before anyone could reply.She knelt.Not as a duchess.Not as nobility.As a mother.She straightened Aditya's collar first, her fingers lingering longer than necessary. Then she smoothed Sasi's hair carefully, as though he were still small. Finally, she rested her palm against Aryan's cheek.
"You listen," she said softly. "All three of you."They did.
"Strength is not proven by how far you go," she continued. "If something feels wrong—if your body or heart resists—do not ignore it. Promise me.""We promise," Aryan said immediately.Aditya nodded. Sasi followed.
Varesh cleared his throat.He stepped forward and placed a firm hand on each of their shoulders—grounding, steady."You go not as heirs," he said. "Not as talents. You go as students."His gaze sharpened, pride restrained but undeniable."Learn humility. Learn patience. And return… as yourselves."
Achintya finally spoke."The mountains do not teach loudly," he said. "They teach by silence. Do not rush to fill it."
Sarvani smiled gently. "And remember—growth is often invisible while it happens."
The words settled into the courtyard.Rishi watched the exchange without interruption.
Then Duke Varesh turned to face him.For a long moment, neither spoke.Then Varesh inclined his head—deeply."Rishi Vedananda," he said, voice firm and clear, carrying both authority and trust. "I place my sons in your care."He rested his hand briefly on each boy again."Teach them not to seek strength," Varesh continued. "Teach them to carry it. Restraint before ambition. Awareness before victory. And if ever their path demands a price—teach them to understand it before paying it."
The air felt heavier for it.Rishi planted his staff lightly against the stone."They will be taught," he replied. "Not as heirs. Not as prodigies. As seekers."
Varesh nodded once.Rishi tapped his staff again."It is time," he said—not as command, but as truth.
Elaria stood slowly. For a brief moment, her composure wavered.Then she smiled."Come back safely," she said. "All three of you."
Aditya grinned. "Of course."Sasi bowed properly. "We will."Aryan hesitated—then stepped forward and hugged her.Just once. Firm. Quiet.She closed her eyes.
Rishi turned slightly toward the gate—but did not move.
Varesh spoke one last time, his voice calm, final."You will leave soon," he said. "But not today."Relief flickered—brief, unspoken."You will prepare," he continued. "Body. Mind. Discipline."His gaze hardened just enough to be unmistakable."And when the time comes—you will follow your teacher.""Yes, Father," they answered together.
Rishi inclined his head. "Two days," he said. "At dawn."
The words settled. Not as excitement, nor as fear, but as commitment.The courtyard returned to stillness, yet the atmosphere had shifted.The mountains had not yet been reached, but the work ahead was already clear.
For the first time since their recent training began, the triplets understood something simple and heavy at once: this was not an excursion, nor a test. It was routine, sustained discipline—and it would demand consistency far more than talent.