Training Grounds
Four Days Later
The sun had just risen, its light dissolving the lingering morning fog. In the chill of early dawn, the warmth on bare skin felt almost indulgent.
Birds chirped from the palace trees while the rest of the Royal District stirred to life with disciplined efficiency.
Rajkumar Hamsa stood at the training grounds.
Rajkumar Garuda would join once his tutoring concluded, but for now the field belonged to the elder brother.
The Royal Guards sat cross-legged across the packed earth, eyes closed, backs straight, hands resting upon their knees in disciplined meditation.
Hamsa walked among them slowly, a cane resting in his hand.
At intervals, he activated his eyes. Sustained use still strained him and whenever he did so, he had to suppress his ordinary sight entirely to maintain clarity. Even now, a faint pressure pulsed behind his temples.
He surveyed each man carefully.
Though invisible to all present, Hamsa had spread his own mana across the entire training ground—thin, controlled, and precise. Through it, he was reinforcing and refining the men's mana circuits. Strengthening them. Correcting inefficiencies. Expanding capacity as much as possible.
The technique would have been impossible months ago. It was only because of what Adi had helped him understand—back during his experiment with Naga, Gopala, and Mina in the forest—that he could sustain the strain rather than collapse under it.
Even so, it was not easy.
As he moved between the meditating guards, he identified several whose internal flows were unstable—minor deviations and slight fractures in alignment.
He stepped behind one man near the center-left formation and placed a hand upon his shoulder. Mana flowed directly—measured and with surgical precision—ironing out imperfections.
Then he noticed movement.
Two newer recruits had shifted posture. Their breathing was inconsistent. Their minds wandering.
Hamsa walked over and struck the both of them on the head with his cane.
"Concentrate," he said evenly. "I will dock your pay. And you will find yourselves assigned to additional shifts. Otherwise."
"Yes, Sir!" both men responded immediately, straightening and returning to meditation.
Hamsa continued walking.
Hey kid, do you really have to do this in such a roundabout way? Adi asked.
I cannot risk Mother, Father, or the Acharya discovering what I am actually doing, Hamsa replied internally. I was granted permission only to refine their mana control—to encourage elemental shaping rather than the crude explosive bursts they favor.
Though most of them possess sufficient reserves in their mana wells for basic application.
For me, that is insufficient.
He adjusted the spread of his mana field slightly.
I am conducting research. If my long-term objectives materialize within the next decade, these men will need to handle technologies and methods far beyond current doctrine. Yes, we could recruit new blood. Stronger. Younger. But loyalty cannot be won or gained overnight.
The youngest among them for now is over thirty.
More than half a decade served in the army for years. Then each spent one or two years in the Royal Guards Gurukul before stepping foot in the Royal District under arms.
They are disciplined. Conditioned. Loyal.
He passed another guard, making a subtle correction.
I need this generation to become the stabilizing backbone. They must be capable enough to train and supervise whatever comes next.
Do you really have to do this now? Adi pressed. This is your second chance at youth. And just like before, you are spending it on plans and work.
Hamsa slowed slightly.
Look. Mentally, I am past forty. Perhaps even fifty. Even if we are conservative, I carry at least thirty years of lived experience.
He paused near the edge of the formation.
You saw my memories right. I was already poor at forming friendships. Meaningful relationships did not come easily to me.
What makes you think it will be easier this time?
He watched the synchronized breathing of the guards.
And back then, I lived in a modern era. This… he glanced toward the distant palace towers, this resembles a classical age—with magic layered into its very existence.
That does not make social integration easier. It makes it more complicated.
The mana field got a bit more denser around the training ground.
Hamsa resumed his measured walk, cane tapping lightly against the earth, expression unreadable.
Work, at least, was predictable.
Okay, but please don't come here and do that thing agian. Adi responded.
It's techinecly my mind, so I will do as I please.
Plus I have to do it because you refuse to learn and I don't have anyone here to talk about all this.
Rajkumar Hamsa had been going into the empty white spance in his mind where Adi
____________________________
Royal ResidenceHamsa's Chambers
The bed remained precisely arranged at the rear center of the room, untouched since dawn. The desk, by contrast, bore the unmistakable imprint of relentless work. Palm Leaves and Birch Barks lay spread across its surface in layered stacks. Birch tablets were arranged in deliberate piles, some tied, others marked with inked annotations along their edges.
The chamber itself no longer resembled a prince's resting quarters.
Recent modifications had transformed it into something closer to a private administrative office. The left wall—once decorated with ornamental panels—had been replaced by tall shelving units filled with categorized records. Space had been cleared for several cushioned seats, positioned not for leisure, but for discussion.
The right side opened outward to a balcony. There, low cushioned seating faced the gardens for informal conferences, while two sturdier chairs and a narrow table had been arranged for outdoor work.
Rajkumar Hamsa had long since departed for the training grounds.
His chambers, however, were anything but still.
Despite Hamsa's absence, the chamber carried momentum.
Mahamanthri Vasu stood near the central desk, accompanied by his personal staff. Gopal was present as well, along with two of Hamsa's trusted aides. The Mahamanthri moved methodically through a stack of documents prepared by the Rajkumar.
Each time a report referenced another tablet or archival record, Gopal stepped toward the shelves without hesitation, retrieving the exact piece required. The system was efficient and structured.
There were other irregularities.
Unlike most royal chambers, no servant or attendant lingered inside. Access was restricted. Only Gopal, those whose mana circuits Hamsa had personally altered, and a select few guards—Naga and Gopala among them—were permitted entry without formal request.
Mahamanthri Vasu turned another page.
Is this truly the work of Rajkumar Hamsa?A boy who has not yet reached the age to hold office?
He continued reading.
The proposals were not scattered thoughts. They were layered frameworks—cross-referenced, supported by historical precedent, revenue projections, demographic estimates, logistical breakdowns. Though most of what he written made little sense to him.
"Tell me," Mahamanthri Vasu said at last, without looking up, "for how long has he been planning all of this?"
Gopal answered carefully.
"Mahamanthri, I mean no disrespect, but I do not know how long the Rajkumar has been formulating these plans. What I can say is that for the past several months he has been reviewing state records. And since His Majesty and the Mahadevi granted him unrestricted access a few days ago… he has scarcely rested."
Gopal paused.
"He has been occupied from morning until night—reading and writing—at a pace I have not seen before."
Mahamanthri Vasu did not respond immediately.
He gathered several of the documents in hand, eyes narrowing slightly as though recalculating his prior assumptions.
Without further comment, he turned and left the chamber, his staff following behind.
The door closed softly.
____________________
Royal Palace
Third Floor — Council Room
The Council Room carried a low, controlled hum of discussion.
Filtered daylight streamed through tall lattice windows, illuminating the long central table typically reserved for military strategy. Seated around it were the Raja, the Mahadevi, and Mahasenapati Krishna. Their exchange was measured, but the summons itself had introduced a quiet tension.
"Why do you think Vasu summoned us with such haste?" the Raja asked.
"We cannot be certain, Your Majesty," Mahasenapati Krishna replied. "The fact that he requested my presence as well suggests the matter extends beyond routine policy."
"There have been no irregularities in the administrative reports," Mahadevi Bhadra added. "Nor any concerning intelligence from the shadow network."
"Then we shall know when he arrives," the Raja said. He turned slightly toward a nearby servant. "Where is he?"
"Raja, the Mahamanthri should have been here by now," the servant answered carefully.
Before the Raja could speak again, the heavy doors opened.
Mahamanthri Vasu entered, composed but visibly burdened. Several birch tablets were held firmly against his chest, while two attendants followed carrying additional bundles.
Without delay, Vasu stepped to the central strategy table and laid the tablets out in organized rows.
"Vasu, what is all this?" Mahasenapati Krishna asked, moving closer.
"Rajkumar Hamsa requested that I review these," Mahamanthri Vasu replied, drawing a controlled breath. "As per your instruction, Mahadevi."
The Raja folded his arms.
"That may be so. But why summon us with urgency?"
"If you examine these," Vasu said, gesturing to the spread of documents, "you will understand."
The three began reading.
Silence settled over the chamber.
After several moments, Mahadevi Bhadra placed one tablet down.
"Mahamanthri, these are… intricate. But I do not yet see cause for urgency."
"It is not any single proposal," Vasu replied evenly. "It is the interconnectedness."
He leaned forward, pointing toward the margins.
"Observe the markings along the edges and lower corners. Each document references another. Revenue reform connects to temple administration. Temple administration connects to judicial restructuring."
He shifted one of the tablets toward Mahasenapati Krishna.
"And further—Mahasenapati—look at this. These sections appear to outline military reforms. I do not fully grasp the structure yet, but the terminology suggests strategic reorganization."
He lifted another tablet.
"Here—he proposes making temple consultation fees compulsory for medical advisement."
Another.
"And here—he outlines the creation of specialized professional legal posts, effectively transferring judicial authority from local houses that were previously granted tax-collection rights—and with them, limited judicial control."
Another.
"In this one, he suggests alterations to coin minting standards. The reasoning is not fully articulated, but the implications are structural."
Vasu accepted a dried palm leaf from one of his attendants and carefully unrolled it across the table.
"Look at this."
The script inscribed upon it was unfamiliar.
"This appears to be a writing system not currently in use anywhere known to us."
He paused briefly.
"And examine his numerical formatting and calculations. The structuring is… unconventional."
The Raja, Mahadevi, and Mahasenapati began reading again—more attentively this time.
"It appears he has been working on this for months," the Raja said at last. "Perhaps even longer. And yet he is only turning eleven this year."
The weight of that observation lingered.
"How?" he added quietly.
Mahadevi Bhadra remained composed.
"I believe we should have Hamsa explain these proposals himself before reaching conclusions. Though complex, they may reflect youthful idealism."
The Raja shook his head slightly.
"No. Let him continue. You required that he consult us before presenting anything formally in court. That condition remains."
Mahamanthri Vasu's expression tightened faintly.
"Is that wise?" he asked. "If misunderstood—or if he speaks prematurely—some of these changes may be perceived as a threat to existing power balances. That would prove problematic not only for his future prospects, but also for the plans we have carefully laid for him."
The chamber fell silent once more.
Across the strategy table, the tablets lay arranged in quiet order—structured, deliberate, and far more ambitious than any of them had anticipated from a child.
___________________
One Week LaterMidnight — Training Grounds
The grounds lay empty beneath a pale moon.
Silence ruled the open space so completely that even the rustling of leaves and the steady chirping of insects felt amplified. The air was cool, unmoving. If a pin were dropped, it would have carried.
At the center of the field stood Rajkumar Hamsa.
He wore full-body armor—custom forged to his specifications. It was unlike standard Royal Guard issue: layered, segmented, reinforced at the joints without sacrificing flexibility.
Scattered across the perimeter of the grounds, figures in dark robes maintained watch.
Some stood along the walls. Others lingered within the garden shadows. A few, though formally listed among the Royal Guard, answered to a quieter authority. All of them had the same directive.
Two of them were concealed within the trees nearest to the Rajkumar.
"Why must we observe him even at this hour?" one of the robed figures whispered. "It is well past midnight."
"Direct orders from the Mahadevi," the other replied quietly. "We monitor him wherever he goes and what ever he does and we report everything."
A brief pause.
"You have spoken to him before, haven't you? What is the Rajkumar like?"
"Focus on your assignment."
"Come on, Chief. We are within the Royal District, not beyond the frontier. At least talk now. You and your sister have both met him."
The response was a sharp knock against the speaker's head.
Then—
The air shifted as it grew denser with Mana.
The source was unmistakable.
Rajkumar Hamsa.
The pressure rolled outward in controlled waves. Not chaotic or violent. But measured and dense.
The two observers stiffened.
Hamsa slowly turned his head in their direction.
Though they were concealed among branches and shadow and were using mana to conceal themselves, it felt as though his gaze landed directly upon them.
For a few long seconds, nothing moved.
Then—
Hamsa rose.
At first only inches from the ground. Then higher.
There was no visible strain. No gesture. No incantation.
In the span of a heartbeat, he ascended sharply—armor catching moonlight as he cut upward through the night air.
He was not falling.
He was flying.
"Move," one of the robed watchers ordered immediately, voice low but urgent. "Contact the higher command. Alert the perimeter units. Position men along the edges of the city to follow him."
The figures broke from concealment, dispersing with disciplined speed.
Above them, the Rajkumar continued his ascent into the night sky and began to move.