Day: Amavasya, Magha Krishna Paksha, Vikram Samvat 1657 (New Moon day, approx. January 1501 CE)
The grand halls of Vijayanagara shimmered under the gentle light of oil lamps (traditional lamps fueled by sesame oil). Fine incense spiraled upward, blending with the subtle fragrance of blossoming jasmine. The city held its breath, wrapped in ancient rituals and a promise of new beginnings.
Devananda Raya stepped into the throne room, his footsteps echoing quietly on the polished stone. The jeweled crown, heavy with gold and precious gems, awaited placement upon his head—a symbol of centuries of legacy and expectation.
Priests chanted solemn hymns, their voices uniting in rhythms older than memory. Nobles and ministers, adorned in vibrant silks and gleaming gold, watched with reverence—and beneath it, calculation.
His mother, Rajamata Kamakshi Devi, stood nearby, her gaze steady and full of measured pride. His father, Maharaja Virendra Deva Raya, stepped back, silently passing the mantle with a mixture of hope and solemn inevitability.
As the high priest carefully crowned him, a tumult of emotions surged within Devananda—awed by the moment, daunted by the responsibility, and torn by the strange dislocation of a mind from a future far beyond this time.
Day: Pratipada, Magha Shukla Paksha, Vikram Samvat 1658 (First day of the bright half, approx. February 1501 CE)
With the dawn's first light filtering through richly carved windows, Devananda lay awake, the scent of sandalwood and fresh flowers filling his chambers. Though his body rested on silk sheets, his mind was a storm of thoughts—of duty, uncertainty, and the vast gulf between the world he knew and the one he now ruled.
He rose and moved through palace corridors, surrounded by advisors bringing reports of unrest: border villages plagued by bandits, harvests failing, distant landlords ruling independently and answering to none.
While centuries of wisdom filled his mind, the palpable weight of kingship pressed heavily on his shoulders.
In the quiet palace garden that evening, beneath a sky brushed with stars and the soft rustle of leaves, Devananda whispered to himself,
"Strength and knowledge alone are not enough. To lead is to understand this land—and its people—deeply."
Day: Dwitiya, Magha Shukla Paksha, Vikram Samvat 1658 (Second day of the bright half, approx. February 1501 CE)
The council chamber stood silent but tense, its aged wood bearing witness to countless decisions. Nobles from across the realm sat poised with expectation, their expressions a mix of guarded honor and wary challenge.
Rajah Bhanu, a seasoned noble with sharp eyes and a voice like tempered steel, leaned forward.
"Your Majesty, while we respect your vision, the Vijaya Rakshakas you propose risk upsetting a delicate balance. For generations, the nobility has maintained order in their lands. To disrupt this authority without caution invites ruin."
Devananda's first impulse was to soothe tensions, to seek harmony within tradition.
"I understand your concerns, noble Rajah. The nobility's role is vital to our realm's stability."
But deep within, a voice from the future whispered rebellion—that this balance had long been broken, masking fractured loyalties and unchecked greed.
He met Bhanu's gaze steadily and spoke with growing conviction.
"Yet justice falters where power splinters. The Vijaya Rakshakas are not meant to replace your authority arbitrarily, but to act as impartial protectors, accountable only to the throne."
A noblewoman's voice softened the room's hard edges.
"And how will you ensure they honor the customs of our people rather than impose harsh rule?"
Devananda nodded, appreciating the question.
"Their training will include deep study of local laws and customs. Their loyalty shall be to dharma (righteous duty), not oppression. Oversight councils, including noble representatives, will watch their conduct closely."
Silence followed as thoughts weighed heavy. Rajah Bhanu finally inclined his head.
"We will watch with careful eyes, Your Majesty. The peace of the realm is not to be gambled."
As nobles departed, Devananda felt the coil of tension tighten within him. His journey had just begun—no longer could he be the cautious man seeking approval. He must grow into a leader ready to challenge centuries of power, to unify a fractured kingdom.