Chapter 7, Scene 1
The village sun was still stretching over the hills when Arjun and Vhim began their usual routine, their bodies already slick with sweat as they practiced their breathing exercises in the open yard behind their house. The morning air was crisp, filled with the scent of damp soil and flowering herbs. For a small, quiet village tucked at the foot of the valley, there wasn't much noise beyond the occasional birdcall and rustling leaves. Yet the effort of training, of forcing their weak, unawakened bodies to adapt, echoed through their panting breaths and gritted determination.
Arjun wiped sweat from his forehead. He was still adjusting to the new breathing routine—the so-called Primordial Breathing that now felt etched into his bones. He didn't remember how he had come to learn it, but it was there. Like an instinct.
Vhim, seated cross-legged beside him, was also breathing slowly, deeply, his eyes closed in concentration. His own style, Breath of Devas, pulsed through his limbs with radiant energy.
As they finished their morning set, a gentle thump-thump of a wooden stick against stone interrupted their rhythm. Arjun turned to see a familiar figure approaching: their grandfather.
The old man was hunched with age, his back curved like a question mark, and his frail legs moved slowly, supported by a sturdy walking stick carved with ancient village runes. His face was a maze of wrinkles, but his eyes still sparkled with wisdom and mischief.
"Children," he said, voice gravelly but warm. "So you're exercising this early. It's good to see."
Both Arjun and Vhim stood up and offered respectful nods.
The old man chuckled. "Even if you haven't awakened your soul natures, that doesn't mean you can't become knights. It just means your path will be different. More difficult, yes, but not impossible."
He looked up at the sky as if measuring time by the clouds. "I've made the arrangements. In three months, you will both go to the cottage of Sage Sharun."
Arjun blinked. "Sage Sharun?"
The name stirred nothing in his mind. He was certain he had never imagined or created a character with that name. Still, the old man had spoken with certainty. That was enough. If Grandpa believed it was the right path, then who were they to question it?
Vhim glanced at Arjun, a question forming in his eyes, but Arjun just nodded.
"Alright, Grandpa," Arjun said. "We understand."
The old man smiled faintly, the weight of decades pressing on his bones. He patted each boy on the shoulder and turned to leave, his walking stick clicking against the stone path.
When he was gone, Arjun exhaled. Sage Sharun. Whoever that was, their fate now led to him. And they had three months to prepare.
Hellish training began that very day.
---
Week One
For the first week, Arjun and Vhim focused entirely on building discipline. They practiced breathing meditation for hours each day, synchronizing their breaths with the natural flow of the wind, the pulse of the earth. They also did light exercises to start conditioning their bodies: jogging, stretching, and some basic bodyweight training.
Their meals were simple. Boiled roots, local fruits, a few eggs when available. Sometimes Vhim would catch a squirrel or a hare using traps they'd built from sticks and vines.
Sleep came easy each night. Their bodies collapsed into rest, heavy and aching. But there was no rest for the spirit. The breathing continued even in their dreams.
---
One Month Later
With the basics under control, they increased the difficulty. Their routine evolved into a rigid and brutal schedule:
150 push-ups
120 sit-ups
150 squats
160 vertical jumps, often performed while climbing the jagged slopes of a nearby mountain
2 hours of nonstop running through the village perimeter
All of this was done while maintaining their breathing techniques.
The pain was unimaginable at first.
Every night, they returned home drenched in sweat, bodies aching to the bone. Hallucinations were common. Arjun once thought he saw a serpent god made of light offering him fruit. Vhim said he kept dreaming of floating cities and breathing dragons.
But their ten-hour sleep schedule kept them from burning out.
Their diet remained basic, but now they relied more on nutrition from wild sources. Arjun learned to identify edible plants that boosted recovery. Vhim grew adept at setting complex traps, allowing them to eat lean meat at least three times a week.
Their bodies responded.
Muscles thickened. Bones hardened. Skin grew tougher. Their posture straightened. They began to look less like boys and more like warriors-in-training.
But it still wasn't enough.
---
Three Months Later
No major changes were made to their training regimen. Instead, they pushed their limits within the same framework, focusing on endurance and consistency. That discipline paid off.
They no longer hallucinated.
Their breathing techniques were now second nature. They could hold their breaths for over an hour without breaking a sweat. Their internal energy began to flow naturally, a current beneath their skin.
Arjun noticed that his vision became sharper. He could track falling leaves mid-air. He felt the wind before it arrived. When he jumped, his feet landed softly like a cat's.
Vhim noticed it too. His steps were lighter, punches faster. The Breath of Devas made him feel like a star tethered to earth—always on the verge of lifting off.
The village had no gym equipment. No swords or weights to train with. It was too small, too poor for that. All they had was their will and the environment.
So they turned the world into their gym. Trees became pull-up bars. Rocks became dumbbells. The stream was their ice bath.
And now, three months later, it was time.
---
They stood outside their house, bags packed with dried food and basic supplies. The morning air was thick with anticipation.
Their grandfather stood beside them, his face unreadable.
"You have done well," he said. "Your bodies are ready. Your minds will soon follow. But remember this: power gained without wisdom is destruction waiting to happen. Listen to Sage Sharun. Learn from him."
Both Arjun and Vhim bowed low.
And with that, they began their journey.
.
.
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