The flight from Delhi to Srinagar, Kashmir, was an easy transition from the historical warmth of the plains to the crisp, stunning chill of the Himalayas. The students, bundled in thick coats, stared out the windows as the flat landscape gave way to towering, snow-dusted peaks. Eva, having successfully managed the logistical nightmare of flying 63 college students across the country, looked pleased.
Upon landing, the contrast was immediate: the air was clean and cold, and the energy was meditative. Eva had secured their stay in a high-end resort with stunning views of the surrounding mountains and forests.
"Alright, engineers!" Eva announced as they settled into the warm, wooden lobbies of the resort. "For the next four days, we are immersing ourselves in the natural beauty and unique culture of Kashmir. Tomorrow, we explore the famous Mughal Gardens and the Dal Lake. Tonight, rest up. You need to be fully present to appreciate this place."
Emerald was again sharing a warm suite with Ananthu and Goutham, the mountain air making them instantly sleepy.
The next morning, under a bright sun that did little to melt the frost, the group toured the terraced Mughal Gardens. Eva highlighted the precise planning involved in these gardens—the perfectly flowing channels, the symmetrical arrangements, and the careful use of different elevations.
"These gardens are an illusion," Eva explained, pointing to the channels that carried water down the slopes. "They look wild and natural, but every drop, every flower, is controlled by human design. The Mughals brought order to the wilderness."
"They look like one of Emerald's meticulous engineering drawings," Shanie remarked. "Everything has a line and a purpose."
"And a price tag," Emerald added wryly, remembering Zinan's comments about the massive resources required to maintain such an artificial paradise.
As they walked through the Chashma Shahi (Royal Spring), a small, enclosed garden with natural springs, Eva paused.
"The most beautiful things in life are often the ones we try hardest to control," Eva said, her voice quiet and reflective, aimed directly at Emerald. "But the spring is natural. The water flows regardless of the human-built walls around it. Control is an illusion here."
Ananthu, overhearing this, chimed in, "That's so true! I try to control my sleep schedule, but my alarm clock is the real emperor of my life!"
"An excellent, if slightly less profound, analogy, Ananthu," Eva conceded with a straight face.
In the afternoon, the students were treated to a ride on the iconic Shikaras—the long, decorative wooden boats of the Dal Lake. The lake was vast, quiet, and surrounded by a silent, watchful mountain range. The famous floating markets and gardens made the lake feel like a self-contained world.
Emerald shared a Shikara with Ananthu, Goutham, and Eva. As they glided over the glassy water, the floating world felt intensely real, yet deeply fragile.
"This is beautiful, but it's weird, right?" Goutham whispered, watching a vendor selling handicrafts from a smaller boat. "It feels like a temporary civilization, constantly moving on the water."
Eva, leaning over the side, watching the reflection of the snow peaks, said, "It's the ultimate acceptance of the present. They don't fight the water; they live on it. It's a constant compromise with nature. That's why the life here is so serene."
Ananthu, meanwhile, was focused on a massive lotus garden floating nearby. "I bet I can jump to that flower patch and make it back without getting wet for fifty bucks."
Eva instantly intervened, grabbing his coat sleeve. "Ananthu! Logistical Rule #42: Do not engage in high-risk gambling on unstable, floating aquatic vegetation. You will fall in, the water is freezing, and I do not have a spare boat to rescue soggy engineering students."
"But Eva, think of the story!" Ananthu pleaded.
"I prefer a story where everyone stays dry and warm. The boatman's livelihood relies on stability, not chaos," Eva ruled, effectively neutralizing the prank.
Emerald laughed, a genuine, deep laugh that surprised even himself. "You're the perfect foil, Eva. You shut down every single one of his ridiculous impulses with military precision."
"That's my job, Emerald," Eva replied, her eyes catching his. "To manage the chaos and ensure the vessel—and the rest of the group—reaches its destination intact."
Later that day, they visited the ruins of the Martand Sun Temple, an 8th-century structure that stands as a powerful reminder of history's inevitable decay. The immense, crumbling pillars and fallen stones spoke of a glory that was long gone.
Eva explained the history of the temple's destruction, tying it back to the cycles of power and religious conflict.
"Look at the perfection of the stone carvings," Eva instructed. "The artisans put their entire lives into this, and yet, time and human anger reduced it to rubble. It tells us that nothing—not faith, not love, not power—is truly permanent."
Emerald stood by a broken archway, Zinan's voice unusually loud in his mind, echoing the sentiment: Nothing is permanent, boy. Not even this borrowed year.
Shanie, however, broke the solemnity. "It looks like a giant video game level after the boss fight. Like, who left all this loot behind?"
Karthik pulled out his phone. "I'm taking a panoramic. We can photoshop in giant laser beams to explain why it looks so cool and destroyed."
Eva let out a small, genuine sigh, the weight of a thousand years of history colliding with the modern student's urge for a good photo op. She didn't correct them. Instead, she offered a small, human solution.
"Alright, if you insist on photoshopping destruction, then you must at least photograph the beautiful symmetry that remains," she challenged. "Find the most perfect, intact carving and focus on that. Let's celebrate the bits that survived, not just the wreckage."
As the friends scattered, hunting for the perfect surviving carving, Emerald watched Eva. Her dual role—custodian of an ancient oath and pragmatic chaperone—was exhausting but necessary.
"You're tired," Emerald observed.
"Managing the entropy of six hormonal boys is more draining than managing an emperor's temper," Eva admitted with a tired smile. "But seeing you laugh today… that's worth the logistical effort."
"I'm starting to think you actually enjoy this, Lascrea."
"I enjoy seeing the world through Emerald's eyes, yes," Eva conceded. "It's a cleaner view than Zinan ever allowed. Now, get back to your room. Tomorrow is the final day of the tour—we're hitting the high-altitude viewpoints."
(To be continued)