A sunny morning. Raghav and Rudra stood atop the castle stairs, watching the convoy return to Lohitpuri. Though it was still early, the sun blazed fiercely, announcing that summer had arrived. Everything around them looked the same, but nothing felt the same. The two young boys were no longer just street thieves or fighters in training. They had fought in a war—willingly. They had seen death up close. They had lost something inside that could never be fully regained.
Fighters trained in the pit under Ganak. His whip cracked sharply through the air, and his roars of command echoed off the stone walls. Life in Lohitpuri tried to move on, but the twins stood still.
One by one, warlords climbed down from their chariots and horses. Familiar faces. Tired faces. But Arya was nowhere to be seen.
The twins hurried down the stairs, pushing through the small crowd, their eyes searching desperately. No sign of him.
Then, they spotted Ashvapati standing silently near a pillar. His eyes met theirs, and with a slight nod, he gestured toward Savignya.
"Where is Arya?" Rudra asked immediately, his voice trembling.
"Come with me," Savignya said, her tone calm but heavy.
Away from the others, in the shade of an archway, Savignya spoke. "Arya is staying in the capital for now. It could be weeks... months... maybe even years."
The words hit like stones. Raghav's face tightened. Rudra's fists clenched.
"But he is alive," she added quickly. "He is safe for now. Being taken care of."
"So we won't see him for a long time then?" Raghav asked, his voice breaking slightly.
"I'm afraid so. But we will try to communicate." Savignya's voice softened. She explained everything she had seen and told Arya. The twins listened without interrupting. Boys who had laughed and fought like children now listened like men.
When Savignya left, Rudra turned toward Raghav, eyes burning.
"Do you think she told us the truth? Is he really safe there?"
Raghav stared at the castle gates. "Yes. If Ashvapati sent her to talk to us, then it must be true. He wouldn't let anything happen to Arya. I trust him."
Rudra nodded slowly, but the worry didn't leave his face.
"You know what that means, right?" Rudra asked.
Raghav's eyes narrowed. "We need to bring him back. We cannot lose him... like we lost Rajas."
Three years ago...
The twins crouched behind crates, waiting. Another quick heist—just enough mudras to survive another few days.
A silhouette approached the shopkeeper at the front. Distracted, the shopkeeper stepped outside. The twins slipped into the shop and worked quickly. Their fingers were swift. Success! But just as they were about to escape, the shopkeeper spotted them.
He yelled and gave chase. The silhouette—an older boy cloaked in rags—sprang into action. He tackled the shopkeeper to the ground, giving the twins time to escape.
But a strong hand suddenly clamped around the older boy's neck. Guards from Upendra's army.
The boy struggled, but more guards arrived, pinning him down. The twins watched in horror.
"Rajas!" Raghav screamed.
The guards dragged Rajas away. One guard spotted the twins and gave chase. Rajas twisted in the guards' grip and shouted, "Run! Don't come near the market! I'll be back!"
The twins ran. They ran until their lungs burned.
A week passed. No sign of Rajas. He had been caught before—but he had always come back.
Desperate, the twins searched. After two days, they found him.
Tied to a pole in the market square.
Beaten. Bloodied. Barely conscious under the merciless sun. His head hung low, his body limp. Strangers threw stones at him. Some laughed.
Rudra broke into a sprint, heart pounding. He reached for Rajas, trying to untie him.
A guard came running, yelling. Raghav grabbed Rudra and pulled him back, dragging him into an alley before the guards caught them too.
Two days later, they returned.
The pole stood empty.
"The boy died there," someone said casually. "Serves him right. Shouldn't steal."
The words sliced through Raghav's mind. Fury exploded inside him. He lunged at the man, fists swinging wildly, but Rudra held him back.
The twins stumbled away, lost in a blur of grief and rage. Their brother—gone.
No funeral. No goodbye.
Nothing but guilt.
They blamed themselves. They had run. They hadn't fought for him.
That night, huddled together in the filthy slums, they cried for the last time as children.
Now...
Raghav's jaw tightened as he stared out over Lohitpuri's gates.
"We need to get stronger," he said, voice steady but full of fire. "We can't be the helpless boys everyone pities. We can't be the ones left behind."
Rudra nodded.
Without another word, they turned and walked toward the pit.
Toward Ganak.