Bhūmigriha Grounds, Morning
The training grounds of Bhūmigriha echoed with grunts and the sharp cracks of fists hitting hardened soil. Dev wiped the sweat from his brow, chest heaving, his knuckles sore from repeated strikes against the practice stones.
Across the field, the head of Bhūmigriha, Acharya Dhruvaksha, stood tall. His frame was muscular, his beard braided into earthy strands, and his voice boomed like thunder wrapped in calm.
"Earth is not only strength, it is patience. Stability. Defense. But when called, it can break mountains."
Dev nodded, but his smirk betrayed his eagerness.
"I like the mountain-breaking part."
Dhruvaksha chuckled. "Most Earth wielders do. But first, learn to shape a stone before dreaming of splitting land."
After drills, Dev wandered to the shaded corridor near the training platform. That's when he saw her.
She stood beside a stone pillar, watching the trainees — tall, graceful, and with long black hair cascading down her back. Her robes were soft brown with golden trim. When she turned, her eyes sparkled with quiet amusement.
"Not bad," she said.
"Huh?" Dev blinked.
"Your form," she clarified. "A little wild… but you've got power."
Dev raised an eyebrow and straightened up. "You've been watching me?"
"A little," she smiled. "I'm Sānvi, second year Bhūmigriha."
"Dev," he replied, grinning. "First day. From… somewhere far."
"Oh, I know," she said teasingly. "Everyone's talking about the boys from the human world."
Dev's chest puffed slightly. "Famous already?"
She leaned in playfully. "Infamous."
They both laughed. A warmth settled between them — lighthearted, unexpected.
"What about your friends?" she asked. "The quiet one and the other boy?"
"Roshan's off trying to walk on water," Dev said. "And Maarun… he's on a different path."
Jalāgriha
The air inside Jalāgriha was cooler, almost sacred. Roshan stood barefoot at the edge of a wide stone basin filled with gently rippling water. Candles floated on its surface.
Across from him stood Acharya Nīravā, tall and composed, her blue robes whispering with each step. Her eyes, the color of still lakes, studied him carefully.
"You carry logic like armor," she said. "But water is not only intellect — it is intuition, adaptation. Can you let go?"
Roshan bowed his head. "I will try."
"Then step forward."
He took his first steps onto the water — and sank immediately.
Nīravā didn't laugh. She only raised a single brow. "Again."
And again he tried. With each failure, he adjusted — posture, breathing, foot placement — until finally, for a brief second, the surface held him.
He fell in again. But this time, he smiled.
As the sun dipped behind the horizon, casting golden hues over the Gurukul, Dev and Roshan made their way back to the dormitory, exhausted but excited.
Dev kicked off his sandals, flopping onto the bed. "You won't believe the day I had."
Roshan raised a brow. "You mean the part where you almost lifted a boulder and failed miserably?"
Dev grinned. "Nope. I mean the girl."
Roshan blinked. "Girl?"
"She's in Bhūmigriha. Beautiful, long black hair. Eyes like dusk. Name's Rājyashrī." Dev sighed dramatically. "We talked after training. She asked how I got here. So I told her about the dice, the trials, and—" He leaned closer, lowering his voice, "—I may have flirted just a little."
Roshan rolled his eyes. "Just a little?"
"What about you? Still sinking?"
Roshan smirked. "No. I walked."
Dev sat up. "Wait, you actually did it?"
Roshan nodded. "Neeravāhni guided me. She's the head of Jalāgriha. Quiet, composed. Her eyes… they're like the surface of a still lake—deep, unreadable. She taught me to walk on water by listening first. To the ripples. To myself."
"Show-off," Dev muttered, throwing a pillow at him.
They both laughed.
Then the room fell quiet.
"…Maarun?" Roshan asked, looking around.
His bed was untouched.
They both stood.
"He didn't come back?"
Without speaking further, the two rushed out into the cool night air. The stone paths of the Gurukul were mostly empty, torches flickering gently in their sconces.
Near the meditation garden, they found Aranya, seated under a tree, watching the moonlit courtyard.
"Where's Maarun?" Dev asked.
"He left this morning," Aranya replied softly. "To find someone who can help him understand his will."
"Who?" Roshan asked.
"Vāyurāyana," she said, her eyes distant. "An old Guruji who lives beyond the forest, near the sea. He was once a respected elder here. Now… he lives in silence, guiding only those who seek their truth."
Dev's smile faded. "He just left? Alone?"
"He chose the harder path," Aranya said, rising. "Pray he returns stronger."
The wind whispered through the trees.
Roshan stared into the darkness.
"Good luck, Maarun," he murmured.