It was an evening darker than the dead of night, with the entire sky covered by dark clouds—a bad omen for the orthodox. The rain poured down like a waterfall. A man was dragging himself forward, carrying a body on his back. Both of them seemed young, but their wounds made them look like old, battered dogs.
His body gave up at last. In the dense forest, there was nothing but darkness around—a certain death awaited. But whether by luck or divine intervention, two young boys found them. Fortunately, he collapsed near a veiled hut.
The boys dragged them inside, surprised. Why wouldn't they be? The hut was camouflaged in the woods and practically invisible even during the daytime. Their master had covered the area with a spell to protect it from vile monsters. Strangers were unheard of here, not even animals dared to approach. But now, two strangers had appeared, both in a wretched state. What surprised them even more was that they were still breathing despite their deep wounds, the kind that could easily kill any man.
Under the dim glow of lamps, their bodies shone.
"They look so strong," one of the boys remarked.
"Nothing less than princes. They're royal, Gautam," the second boy said. "Perhaps they were attacked for their belongings. Look at their swords—both are clean, without a single trace of blood. Maybe they don't even know how to use them. Their bodies are strong because they are of royal blood," he continued.
A sudden laugh broke their conversation. It was deep, sweet, and oddly enchanting.
"You are right. They are royals, but they weren't attacked for their belongings. Look at their bodies; the gold ornaments are still there," a voice proclaimed.
"Gurudev, we were about to call you. They are on the verge of death. Can you save them?"
"Many believe that only gods can save lives. I am no god; I can only give them treatment, Ashok."
"Go to Aditi. I have been teaching her medicine for times like these. She will tend to them."
"But Master, what if they are dangerous and harm us?" Gautam asked, his voice tinged with worry.
"This is not the time to think about that. Go and fetch Aditi. Our duty is to help those in need, not to dwell on what may happen next. Remember that," he said, a hint of anger in his voice.
"And Ashok, you should go outside and check if they were followed."
"But Gurudev, the rain is too heavy. How can I…" He stopped midway upon seeing his master's face. It wasn't angry, yet his eyes were fierce. "Yes, Master. How can I call myself a warrior if I can't withstand a little rain?"
The man in white stood before the two young men, observing the wounded strangers with an amused expression. But it wasn't mockery; it wasn't even a laugh in the true sense. It was as if he recognized them.
Aditi, who was already there, stood frozen, shocked by her master's reaction. He turned toward her and said, "Don't worry about me. I'm not a mons—"
Aditi interrupted. "I know, Master. I know. But I feel like you know them. Behind that laugh, there was distress. I can sense it."
"Yes, I know one of them," he said, pointing at one of the men. "He is Arjun, one of the knights of Sapt Rakshak. Back when I lived in Tuhinalya."
Aditi's face turned pale. "Arjun Tuhindra! The great warrior! But he looks young. The Arjun I have heard of is over forty years old."
"He's a god," Aditi whispered.
Her master laughed. "A god? No. They are the descendants of gods. The gods have long forsaken this world."
"Although there are clans that rule over the five great nations with powers beyond ordinary humans, like the Tuhindra clan. Arjun belongs to them—the strongest among all. They do not age like normal people. They can live up to two hundred years and only become fragile after one hundred and fifty, sometimes even more. But death loves them too much. These days, barely anyone survives that long. The body once believed to be immune to disease is now growing weak."
"This is a discussion for another time, Aditi. Right now, our priority is saving them."
As Aditi worked on treating their wounds, she looked at her master, disappointment evident on her face.
"Guruji, I don't think Arjun can survive. He has a fatal wound near his heart. An arrow or some sharp object pierced his chest. Can't you heal him with your spells?"
"I can see that, Aditi. But these wounds run too deep. A fragile man like me cannot heal them. It is up to the herbs now. Please, do not hold back. Give them your best."
With her master's help, Aditi patched the wound. "It's all in the hands of the gods now. May Lord Tuhindra save them."
"This boy can survive. His wounds are deep but not as fatal as Arjun's," she said, looking at the second man, who had remained silent. "Do you know who he is?"
The old master took a deep breath. "Unfortunately, I don't, but I have a suspicion. He is probably from the Varuna clan. His face resembles someone… I am not certain, but if my intuition is correct, he is a very important person."
"Varuna—the ones blessed by water! Isn't the almighty queen a Varuna too?"
The master nodded. "Yes, but only by marriage, not by birth."
"Do you know the queen, Guruji?" Aditi asked, curiosity mixed with excitement in her voice.
"Yes. Both she and Arjun… you could say they are my acquaintances."
"You are quite the famous person, Master. When will you tell me your complete story?"
"Today is not that day. Right now, we must focus on keeping these men alive," the master said with authority.
"As you wish, Master," Aditi replied and continued preparing medicines.
Ashok returned, drenched in rain. "There is no one outside, Master. I think they were not followed."
"Well done, Ashok. Now go and rest."
"Before that, Master, I have a question. How did they find us?"
The master turned toward Ashok, who stood at the door with his sword in hand. He was young, no more than eighteen. His grip was firm, but it was clear that, to him, the sword was still a toy, not yet a weapon meant to spill blood.
"We can ask them once they wake up. But for now, they need rest. And so do you," the master said. Ashok, obedient as ever, walked toward his small hut.
"Aditi, I will take care of things from here. You should leave too. See to the food with Gautam."
"As you wish, Master," Aditi said and left with a nod.
Now alone, the master studied the injured men. Both were wrapped in bandages, their breathing slow and shallow. Death was near, but fate had not yet made its decision. Perhaps it would claim them, or perhaps it would spare them.
There was no certainty.