WebNovels

Chapter 20 - Between a Brother and a Son

Mahadevi Bhadra let out a quiet breath of relief and gave a small nod to the attendant standing near the doorway.

"…Also, send a messenger to my house. Inform them that Garuda has awakened."

"Yes, Mahadevi," the woman replied at once, bowing before withdrawing.

Darkness slowly gave way to warmth.

Soft.Steady.Comforting.

Rajkumar Hamsa stirred faintly, his brows knitting together as awareness crept back in.

…What is this?

His mind felt heavy, as though wrapped in cotton. His body refused to move, sinking instead into something warm and yielding. A familiar scent lingered around him—subtle incense mixed with something gentler.

Wait…Where am I?

And why does this feel so comfortable?

He shifted slightly, cheek pressing deeper into the softness beneath him. A low, instinctive sound escaped his throat, more a grumble than a word.

Mahadevi Bhadra noticed the movement immediately.

She leaned forward a little, her expression softening.

"Hamsa," she said quietly, her voice careful not to startle him."Are you awake?"

Hamsa responded by turning his head further and burying his face against her lap, one hand curling faintly into her robes.

"Five more minutes…" he muttered, words slurred and half-formed."I'll get up. Just five mo—"

His voice trailed off, breath evening out again as sleep reclaimed him.

Mahadevi Bhadra smiled as she then spoke.

"Well," she murmured, her tone impossibly gentle,"if you wish to sleep… then sleep."

She lifted her hand and began brushing her fingers slowly through his hair, smoothing down the unruly strands with practiced ease. The motion was gentle and unhurried, repeating in a steady rhythm as though she had done this countless times before.

The touch was unfamiliar to Hamsa—something he could not recall ever allowing or having the opportunity to experience. And yet, it was comforting in a way he hadn't realized he needed. The warmth of her presence, the quiet certainty in her movements, and the faint scent of incense clinging to her robes all blended together, sinking past his exhaustion and into something deeper.

Without meaning to, he relaxed further, his body loosening as if a tension he'd carried was finally being set down. His breathing evened out, shoulders slackening, instinctively leaning into the contact rather than away from it.

Mahadevi Bhadra noticed.

Her fingers slowed just slightly, adjusting their path, careful not to wake him. For a brief moment, she simply watched him—being the child he was meant to be.Free of titles, expectations, and burdens.

And as her hand continued its gentle rhythm, she allowed herself that rare, quiet indulgence—holding him like this, even if only for a little while longer.

At the edge of her vision, she noticed movement.

Rajkumar Garuda had arrived, just as she had summoned him. He stood a short distance away, posture straight but hesitant, clearly unsure whether to approach or remain where he was.

She looked up at him.

"So," Mahadevi Bhadra asked softly,"how are you feeling, Garuda?"

Garuda blinked, then answered earnestly.

"I'm… doing well," he said."Just like Acharya Ram instructed me, I'm meditating regularly. My senses are still strange, but manageable." He hesitated, then added, "Elder Brother left a lot of his mana within me. It's acting as a stabilizer."

Mahadevi Bhadra nodded, her expression easing further.

"That's good to hear," she said."If you feel unwell, or if anything troubles you, you must tell us immediately. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mother," Garuda replied without hesitation.

She smiled again, returning her attention to Hamsa. Her hand never stopped moving, fingers continuing their gentle path through his hair.

Garuda watched quietly for a moment.

"Mother," he said at last, tilting his head slightly,"you look… rather happy right now."

Mahadevi Bhadra paused, then looked up at him.

Her gaze softened.

"That is because," she replied,"your brother is being the child he is meant to be."

I stood there, watching.

And she was right.

As kind and considerate as my elder brother is, he almost never depends on anyone.He rarely asks for help, and when it's offered, he usually refuses unless it's something he truly cannot do alone.So much is expected of him—in every regard—and he meets those expectations without complaint.

I've seen Mother's face fall more times than I can count.

Whenever she sang a lullaby for me, she would sometimes invite Elder Brother to sit with us. Every single time, he politely declined. Not rudely—never rudely—but firmly.

He does the same with everything else.

Special treatment. Extra care. Anything outside the ordinary.

He rejects it all.

And I know it hurts her.

She never says it aloud, but I can see it in the way her hands linger just a second longer than necessary… or the way her smile turns faintly strained.

So seeing him like this—

Curled up in her lap.Muttering in his sleep.Letting himself be held without resistance.

It felt strange.

But also… relieving.

For once, he wasn't the impossible figure everyone whispered about.He wasn't the prodigy.He wasn't the future king.

He was just my brother.

A spoiled child, fast asleep in Mother's lap.

And for the first time in my life…

I didn't feel so small standing beside him.

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A boy sat slouched on a worn sofa, a bowl of porridge balanced on his knees, the glow of the television flickering across the familiar walls.

"Damn, they los—"

He froze mid-sentence.

"…Wait. What the hell?"

He stood up slowly, the spoon slipping from his fingers and clattering onto the floor. His eyes darted around the room, taking everything in—the fine but old wooden floor, the recessed lighting he remembered having installed himself, the wall-length bookshelf packed with academic texts and entertainment, all arranged with meticulous care.

"This is… my old house."

His breathing grew shallow as he moved, almost stumbling, from room to room. Everything was exactly as he remembered it. Too exact. The couch with the tea stain. The bed he slept on. The clock that always ran a minute slow.

"No… no, no, no."

He said as his gaze snapped to the calendar hanging near the kitchen.

2-9-21XX.

"What???"

The boy stood there, staring at the date as if it might change if he looked long enough. His thoughts raced, colliding into each other, refusing to form anything coherent.

Then a realization hit him.

Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hand to pinch himself—

—and stopped.

He felt something rubbing at his feet.

A mouse.

His heart skipped.

Sweat broke out across his skin, soaking his shirt almost instantly.

"No… this has to be a dream. It has to be," he muttered, voice trembling.

"Why else would I remember this day? It's a dream. It's a dream—it has to be—"

He looked up.

A snake was coiled on the floor in front of him.

The world seemed to tilt.

His body reacted before his mind could catch up. Muscles tensed, breath caught in his throat, instincts screaming as he braced for it to strike.

But it didn't.

The snake raised its head slightly—and spoke.

"Finally," it said, its voice smooth and unsettlingly calm."I managed to reach you. But damn, kid—have a little more trust in the people around you. Getting past the mana guarding your brain was a pain in the ass."

The boy's vision blurred.

His legs gave out.

He collapsed to the floor, consciousness slipping away in an instant.

"Oi—oi—oi," the snake said quickly, irritation creeping into its tone.

"Don't do this now. Do you have any idea how much energy it took me to get here?"

It slithered closer, nudging him with its head.

"Wake up, damn it."

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Hamsa jolted awake.

His breath came fast and shallow as he shot upright, mana spilling out of him on instinct—sharp, hostile, ready to tear apart anything that posed a threat. His eyes swept the room, searching.

Then a hand reached out from behind and patted his head.

He froze.

Spinning around, he found Mahadevi Bhadra seated behind him, exactly where his head had been resting moments ago.

"What happened, Hamsa?" she asked, concern evident in her voice."Did you have a nightmare?"

He stared at her, disoriented.

"…Yes," he said slowly. "Something like tha—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

Only now did he fully register the sensation: her hand gently moving through his hair.

His body reacted before his mind caught up. He tried to pull away at once—but a firm pressure held him in place, and before he could protest, his head was guided right back down.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mahadevi said, her tone calm but unmistakably intimidating."You will explain yourself first. Only then are you permitted to leave this bed."

Hamsa lay there, blinking, his thoughts sluggish and scattered.

Then it clicked.

"…I helped Garuda develop his mana circuit," he said carefully."It worked—but I underestimated how much mana it would take. I also left him with more than I intended to. After that… I don't remember anything after."

"I know what you did," Mahadevi replied."I'm asking why you did it without informing us."

Hamsa hesitated.

"Well… Acharya Ram approved it," he said. "He was present. He was the one who even brought up the possibility."

That was… partially true.Acharya Ram had suggested of my capabilities. Awakening Garuda early had been my decision.

Mahadevi studied him for a long moment.

Then Hamsa tried to change the subject.

"…Why are you here, Mother?" he asked."Don't you have duties to attend to?"

She let out a slow, tired sigh.

"After we learned what happened," she said, "Garuda, your father, and I took turns staying by your side—just in case you needed a mana infusion. Like when you were five."

She continued, her voice softer now.

"This morning, it was my turn. You were grumbling in your sleep, restless. I patted your head to calm you down and check your condition."

Her hand paused briefly, then resumed its gentle motion.

"When I tried to stand, you resisted."She smiled faintly."And it was… cute."

Hamsa felt heat rush to his face.

"So I stayed," she said. "I placed your head on my lap. You slept like that for hours till now."

His face burned red with embarrassment.

"I—I'm sorry for the trouble I cau—"

She cut him off instantly.

"Do you think caring for you is a burden?" she asked, her voice firm—but warm."You are my son. If you want to rely on me, then rely on me."

Her fingers brushed through his hair once more, steady and reassuring.

"I will spoil you as much as I please," she said."So don't speak like that again. Understood?"

"I will try." he could only manage to say that much.

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