The first light of dawn was just breaking through the forest canopy when Vajra was roused from his sleep. Radhagupt, the ever-watchful senior student of Rishi Agastya, stood at the entrance of Vajra's hut. His expression, usually stern and distant, held a strange softness this morning.

"Narasimha," Radhagupt called quietly, as not to disturb the others. "Come with me."

Vajra blinked away the last remnants of sleep, nodding as he quickly rose to his feet. He didn't question the request but followed Radhagupt through the silent ashrama. The path was lined with trees, the air cool with the early morning mist, and the birds were just beginning to stir.

They walked in silence until they reached a small clearing near the river where Radhagupt stopped. He turned to Vajra with an unreadable look in his eyes, then handed him a small, bronze kundal filled with water and a white angavastram. The simplicity of the objects contrasted with the weight of the moment.

Vajra's brow furrowed slightly, his curiosity piqued. Radhagupt's smile was rare, but it appeared now—gentle, as if he was witnessing something deeply significant.

"Why...?" Vajra began, but his question was halted by Radhagupt's raised hand.

"You've earned this," Radhagupt said simply, his eyes gleaming with approval. "The kundal and the white angavastram are carried by the one whom our guru deems worthy, the one he considers ready to move forward in his learning. Today, that honor is yours."

Vajra's heart skipped a beat. The realization of what this meant struck him deeply. This act—carrying the water and the cloth for the guru's morning bath—was a privilege reserved for those few who had proven themselves in ways beyond just skill. It was a recognition of character, of wisdom, and of readiness for higher knowledge. It was very rare. 

He bowed his head in humility, deeply touched by the honor bestowed upon him. Without a word, he followed Radhagupt to the riverbank where Rishi Agastya always performed his morning rituals.

The sound of the river's gentle flow filled the air, and Vajra stood in silence, holding the kundal of water and the white angavastram. He watched as Rishi Agastya, already standing in the river, began his snana—the sacred morning bath. The rays of the sun, now breaking through the treetops, illuminated the scene with a soft, golden light.

Vajra observed the stillness of his guru, the deep concentration with which he performed each movement, offering prayers to the divine. There was a grace in the simplicity of his actions, a wisdom that seemed to flow with the river itself.

When Rishi Agastya finished, he emerged from the water, his presence powerful yet serene. Vajra stepped forward, his heart swelling with reverence, and handed the angavastram to his guru, waiting for him to wrap it around himself. Once the white cloth was draped over his shoulders, clean and pure, Vajra bowed deeply, touching his forehead to the earth before him.

Rishi Agastya looked down at Vajra, his eyes filled with something beyond just kindness. There was a recognition, a sense that the boy before him had crossed an invisible threshold.

"It is time," the sage said softly, his voice calm but with a weight that made the moment feel eternal. "You are ready to begin your journey into the knowledge of the divya astras."

Vajra's breath caught in his throat, but he remained silent, listening with every fiber of his being.

"These weapons," Rishi Agastya continued, his voice steady and profound, "are not like any you have encountered before. They are not merely instruments of destruction; they are tied to the very forces of the universe. Each astra has its essence, its life, its purpose. To wield them is not a matter of strength or skill alone. It is about understanding the balance of creation and destruction, about knowing when to summon their power and, more importantly, when not to."

Vajra absorbed every word, feeling the weight of what lay ahead. The divya astras were not just tools of war—they were embodiments of higher truths. To possess them meant to bear a responsibility that went far beyond the battlefield.

Rishi Agastya's gaze was steady, and in it, Vajra sensed a deep trust. "To earn the knowledge of these astras," the sage continued, "you must first understand the nature of your own heart. There will come moments when your path is unclear, when the lines between good and evil are blurred. It is then that your true test will come—not in the heat of battle, but in the clarity of your judgment."

Vajra nodded slowly, feeling the magnitude of the words. This journey was not just about becoming a warrior; it was about becoming someone who could bear the weight of great power with wisdom.

"And remember," Agastya said, his voice lowering slightly, "this path is not for the faint-hearted. The astras will test you, as will the world. Not everyone who seeks them is worthy. You must earn them, and to do so, you must first master yourself."

Vajra remained silent, his head still bowed in reverence. The weight of the moment settled in his heart, but it was not a burden. It was a calling—a journey that he was ready to undertake, no matter the cost.

Rishi Agastya looked at Vajra for a long moment, his eyes softening. "You carry the weight of a destiny that you are not yet fully aware of," the sage said, almost cryptically. "But that is as it should be. All in due time."

With those words, Rishi Agastya placed his hand gently on Vajra's head, offering a blessing. "May you walk this path with wisdom, courage, and compassion."

Vajra rose, deeply moved by the honor of this moment. He understood, perhaps for the first time, the full depth of why he was called here...what it meant to be a worthy disciple of Rishi Agastya. This was not just his training—it was a transformation, one that would shape the rest of his life.

As he walked away from the riverbank, the kundal empty and the white angavastram folded, Vajra felt a quiet resolve settle over him. This journey would not be easy, but it was his to walk. And he would walk it with all the strength, wisdom, and compassion he could muster.

In the distance, Radhagupt watched silently, nodding to himself. He had seen something in Vajra that day—a spark, a clarity that few possessed. And in his heart, he knew that Rishi Agastya had chosen wisely. Even he himself was not granted with the education of divya astras but now , finally after decades someone was to learn it from Rishi Agastya. 

The forest was alive with the soft hum of nature. Vajra and Agastya moved swiftly through the dense thickets, their eyes sharp and their senses heightened. The early morning mist clung to the trees, casting an ethereal glow over the forest floor. They were on their way back to the ashrama after a brief excursion to gather herbs for one of the lessons. But something felt different today—there was a tension in the air that neither could quite place.

Suddenly, from behind a thick patch of trees, they heard a rustling sound, followed by hurried footsteps. They exchanged a glance, both instinctively reaching for their weapons, though neither raised them. Vajra signaled to Agastya to move forward while he cautiously approached the source of the sound.

As they emerged from the dense foliage, they found a man—disheveled, frightened, and shaking. His skin was dark, his body covered in marks and scars that told stories of hardship. He was a tribal man, but something about him seemed out of place. His eyes darted around wildly, filled with fear and desperation. He didn't belong here—not in this part of the forest.

Vajra, sensing the depth of the man's terror, immediately put his bow down and raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "You're safe," he said softly, stepping forward. "No harm will come to you here."

The man flinched at first, but something in Vajra's calm voice seemed to reach him. His breathing slowed, though his eyes remained wide with fear. Vajra was surprised to find the man understanding his language. Agastya on the other side, keeping his spear ready, moved forward cautiously to scout the area, searching for the source of this man's terror.

Vajra approached the man slowly, crouching down to his level. "What are you afraid of?" he asked gently. "No one will hurt you. You have my word."

The man's breath came in ragged gasps, but slowly, his panic began to subside under Vajra's steady gaze. "Cannibal," he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling with fear. "They're coming... the others."

Vajra frowned but maintained his calm. "Who are they? You can trust me , I am a student of Rishi Agastya. Tell me what happened."

The man hesitated, but something about Vajra's demeanor—his presence, his unshakable calm—compelled him to speak. "We... we were cannibals," the man said, his voice breaking with shame. "From lands beyond the Sapt Sindhu. Taken as children, raised to be beasts. We were sold to kings... kings who wanted revenge on their enemies. We... we devoured human's flesh based on the order. It was our fate."

Vajra's eyes softened with compassion, though he could feel the weight of the man's words settling heavily on him. The practice of cannibalism, though far removed from their land, was a reality that Vajra had only heard of in dark stories. But here was a man—standing before him, trembling—who had lived that horror.

"But you're not with them now," Vajra said, his voice steady. "You are not part of them anymore."

The man nodded, tears welling in his eyes. "No," he whispered. "Devi Aparajita... she saved us. She showed us another way. She... she is our goddess now,our leader. She told us we could be human again."

Vajra's brow furrowed. He had heard whispers of a girl named Aparajita, but this was the first time he was hearing of her in this way. "Aparajita," he repeated, the name lingering on his lips. "Who is she?"

The man wiped at his tears, a flicker of hope crossing his face for the first time. "She is... young. A girl, perhaps younger than you. But she... she has the soul of a goddess. She came to us, not with swords or punishment, but with compassion. She spoke of a purpose greater than our actions, of a life beyond the chains of our past. She told us that we could be more than what we were forced to be."

Vajra's heart stirred at the man's words. This Aparajita—whoever she was—had touched this man's soul in a way few could. "What did she do for you?"

"She made us see the truth," the man said, his voice growing stronger. "That we were not just beasts. That we were human. That we had the right to live our own lives, free from the darkness of our birth. She opened our eyes, and a few of us... we left the tribe, vowing never to return to that life."

Vajra was silent for a moment, processing the magnitude of what this girl had done. She had transformed lives—pulled people out of the depths of inhumanity and showed them the path back to their own humanity. A girl younger than him, yet with a wisdom and compassion beyond her years. He was in awe.

"But," the man continued, his voice darkening, "not all of us left. Some... some stayed behind. They refused to let go of the old ways. And now, they hunt us—those of us who chose to walk a different path. That is why I fled. They will not stop until we are all dead."

Vajra's hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his sword, though he kept it sheathed. His heart swelled with both empathy and anger. These men were once victims, raised to be monsters, but they were given a chance—a chance at redemption by someone who saw them as more than their actions. But the danger was far from over.

Agastya returned just then, his expression grim. "I found tracks," he said quietly to Vajra. "Several of them. They're nearby, but they're moving away for now."

The tribal man collapsed into a sob, his relief palpable. "Thank you," he whispered to Vajra. "You saved me."

Vajra placed a hand on the man's shoulder, his touch gentle yet firm. "You saved yourself by choosing the right path," he said, his voice filled with quiet strength. "Your leader gave you the vision, but you made the choice. Hold onto that."

The man looked up at Vajra, overwhelmed by his words. His gratitude was beyond words, but Vajra saw it in his tear-filled eyes.

As the man calmed further, Vajra's thoughts lingered on Aparajita. Who was this girl who could inspire such profound change in men who had been conditioned to be merciless? She wasn't just a healer of bodies, but of souls.

"Do you believe in her?" Vajra asked, curious about the power that one individual could hold over an entire group of people.

The man nodded fervently. "She is more than just a person," he said. "She is our leader, our hope. She believes that every person deserves a chance at redemption, no matter their past. She showed us that even we could be worthy of life."

Vajra stood silent for a moment, deeply moved. Aparajita's compassion was unlike anything he had ever encountered. She had the strength to face those who were feared, not with weapons but with understanding. And in doing so, she had changed lives.

As they continued on their way, Vajra's mind couldn't shake the thought of Aparajita. There was something different about her, something profound. She wasn't just a healer or a wise woman—she was something greater. And for the first time, Vajra felt a deep, unspoken curiosity about this girl who had touched so many lives.

Agastya, sensing his friend's thoughts, nudged him with a playful smirk. "She's different, isn't she?"

Vajra nodded slowly. "Yes," he said quietly. "Very different."

And as the two boys walked deeper into the forest, the echoes of Aparajita's impact lingered with them, like a distant yet undeniable truth waiting to be fully understood.

The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a soft golden light through the canopy of trees that surrounded the ashrama. The air was cool and still, filled with the peaceful sounds of birds beginning their morning songs. Yet despite the serenity of the early dawn, Vajra found himself lost in thought. He sat near the edge of the forest, staring blankly into the distance, his mind swirling with questions.

He couldn't shake the image of the tribal man they had encountered—the fear in his eyes, the weight of his words. And, more than that, he couldn't forget Aparajita. The young girl who had transformed lives, who had saved men from the darkness of their pasts with nothing more than compassion. Who was she really? How had she managed to change people so deeply? The questions gnawed at him, but he couldn't find the answers.

As he sat there, deep in thought, a warm presence settled beside him. Rishi Agastya had appeared without a sound, placing a hand gently on Vajra's shoulder and persisted him to sit as he rose. Vajra, thought always instinctively respectful in his guru's presence, straightened and became more alert. But the rishi made no immediate demands of him. Instead, he simply sat in silence for a few moments, allowing the stillness of the forest to envelop them both.

After a while, Rishi Agastya turned his head slightly, looking at Vajra with his usual calm yet penetrating gaze. "Something troubles your mind, Narasimha," he said softly. "Your thoughts are distant, filled with questions. What weighs on your heart?"

Vajra hesitated, unsure where to begin. He had been taught from a young age to carry himself with composure, to not let emotions cloud his mind. But in the presence of his guru, he felt safe enough to speak openly. After a brief silence, he began to recount the incident in the forest—the frightened tribal man, his story of cannibalism, and how Aparajita had changed their lives.

"The man we met... he spoke of a past filled with horror, of men being raised to be cannibals and used by kings for revenge," Vajra said quietly. "But more than that, he spoke of change—of how Aparajita, this young girl, showed them a new path. She gave them a way to live beyond their past. I... I wonder if it is truly possible. Can people really change so deeply? And who are these people, Gurudeva? Who is this Aparajita, who can touch hearts in such a profound way?"

Rishi Agastya listened intently, his expression thoughtful. For a moment, he remained silent, as if considering how best to respond. Then, with a gentle smile, he spoke.

"The world is vast, Narasimha, far larger than what we see with our eyes or what we experience in our own lives. The tribes you speak of—those who come from beyond the Sapt Sindhu—are people shaped by harsh circumstances, by traditions that have been passed down through generations. They were not born as cannibals, but made into what they were through the designs of others. Yet, even in the darkest of circumstances, the seed of change can be planted. It takes someone with vision, someone who sees beyond the surface, to show them another way."

Vajra nodded slowly, absorbing his guru's words. "So, it is true? People can change, even those who have lived in such darkness?"

Rishi Agastya's eyes glimmered with wisdom as he looked at Vajra. "Change is always possible, Narasimha. But it is not easy. It requires great courage—both from those who seek to change and from those who guide them. Aparajita, from what you have heard, is such a guide. She is young, but her wisdom seems to exceed her years. It is not uncommon for souls like hers to carry an understanding of life's deeper truths. Compassion, Narasimha, is one of the greatest forces in this world. It can melt even the hardest of hearts. It is one of Prabhu Shri Rama's own life ideal and isn't the Mahadeva himself karuna avataram?"

Vajra found himself growing more curious, more in awe of Aparajita. "But who is she, Gurudeva? How does someone so young have such wisdom?"

Rishi Agastya eyes twinkled, sensing the growing respect and wonder in Vajra's voice. "Aparajita is a mystery to many, even to those who know her. But her actions speak louder than any words could. She sees the divinity in every person, no matter their past. She understands that every soul, no matter how lost, deserves a chance at redemption."

He paused, his expression turning more serious. "As for those tribesmen, yes, they are slowly being brought into the fold of the human world, learning to live in harmony rather than in violence. It is a slow process, but it is happening. People like Aparajita are making it possible. In time, these men may fully integrate into our world, leaving behind the cruelty that once defined them."

Vajra felt a sense of peace wash over him. The weight of his questions seemed to lift, replaced by a quiet reverence for the girl he had never met. She had done what many warriors with swords could not—she had changed hearts, not by force, but by seeing the humanity in those who had been dehumanized.

"I understand now," Vajra said quietly. "It is not about power or strength—it is about seeing the good in people, even when they cannot see it themselves."

Rishi Agastya smiled, placing his hand gently on Vajra's head. "You have grasped an important truth, Narasimha. Compassion is the foundation of true strength. And remember, even as you grow in wisdom and power, never lose sight of the humanity in others. That is what will make you a true leader. And , if I must say you already have that compassion within you."

Vajra bowed deeply to his guru, filled with gratitude. He had come to Rishi Agastya with questions about the world, but he was leaving with answers about himself. His respect for Aparajita, and for the path of compassion, had deepened. And with it, his understanding of what it meant to be truly strong.

As the first rays of the sun broke through the trees, casting a golden light on the forest floor, Vajra stood tall, his heart filled with clarity and purpose. He knew now that his journey was not just one of physical prowess, but of understanding the deeper truths of life—the balance of compassion and strength, the power of seeing the good in others, and the importance of being a true guide, just as Aparajita had been to those lost souls. He knew the warrior way well but the way defined in front of him was even harder but brighter. 

He had much to learn, but with Rishi Agastya's guidance, he knew he was on the right path.

To be continued...

Delayed double update. Lol , will update next once the target on both the chapters 30 and 31 are complete. 

A next chapter has a huge surprise?

Something unexpected probably but much awaited. Is everyone ready to meet the undefeatable?

Target - 80 votes

Please do leave your votes and comments !