Homecomings and Watchful Eyes
The morning air in Vayupuri was crisp, carrying the scent of dew-kissed grass and the distant promise of a warm day. In the main courtyard, the mood was a mixture of relief and the gentle melancholy of parting. Servants loaded the last of the luggage onto the royal chariots as the princes prepared to depart for their respective kingdoms.
Aditya stood facing Devansh, the early sun setting his crimson eyes alight. The formal farewells to Maharaja Vikram Singh had been made; now was a moment for themselves.
"Until we meet again,"Aditya said, his voice softer than usual, meant only for Devansh's ears.
A serene smile touched Devansh's lips, though a shadow of the previous night's sadness lingered in his blue eyes. "I will be waiting," he replied, the simple words holding the weight of their shared ordeal and the unspoken promise of their last conversation.
Then, Aditya reached into a fold of his angarkha and brought out a slender, beautifully crafted bamboo flute. It was polished to a warm sheen, with delicate silver inlays tracing patterns of swirling wind. "A small gift," he said, offering it to Devansh. "I thought... perhaps your music could use another voice to converse with."
Devansh's eyes widened with genuine delight. He took the flute, his fingers tracing the cool, smooth silver. "Adi... it's beautiful. Thank you. I will treasure it." The gift was more than an object; it was a bridge between his world of melody and Aditya's world of action, a tangible reminder of their bond.
They embraced, a brief, fierce hug that conveyed more than words ever could. Just then, Virendra and the Maharaja approached. "Come, Aditya, the sun climbs higher," Virendra said, his tone brotherly but firm.
Aditya nodded. "Yes, Bhaiya." He mounted his powerful red steed, Agni. As he guided the horse towards the palace gates, he turned one last time. His gaze found Devansh's, and he offered a final, brilliant smile—a silent reaffirmation of his vow. Devansh returned it, the flute held securely in his hand, a promise of a future duet.
Once Aditya's party had vanished in a cloud of dust, Devansh turned to the Maharaja. "Your Majesty, I too must take my leave. My family will be anxious." With a respectful bow, he mounted his own magnificent white horse, Shakti, and set off on the road to Chandrapuri, the sun warming his back.
---
Chandrapuri - A Family's Embrace
The journey felt shorter, lighter than before. When the serene white spires of Chandrapuri came into view, a profound sense of peace washed over Devansh. He was home.
He was barely through the main gates when he was enveloped in a wave of familial love. Maharaja Rohit, Maharani Revati, and Mrinal were all there, their faces alight with joy and relief.
"My son! You're back!" the Maharaja boomed, pulling him into a hearty embrace.
The Maharani cupped his face,her eyes searching his. "You look tired, beta. Was the journey difficult?"
As they settled in the family sitting room, the Maharaja's expression turned slightly stern. "Your letter said you were extending your stay in Vayupuri for cultural exchange, but it was rather vague. Is everything alright?"
Devansh knew he couldn't hide the truth from them. He recounted the story of the ruins, carefully omitting the most terrifying details and the depth of his connection with Aditya, focusing instead on the mystery of the farmers and their eventual liberation.
The family listened, their faces growing increasingly pale with horror. When he finished, Mrinal, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly reached out and pinched his ear, hard.
"Ow! Didi! That hurts!" Devansh yelped, more out of surprise than actual pain.
"That's for being a reckless idiot!" Mrinal scolded, though her eyes were shiny with unshed tears of relief. "What were you thinking, wandering into haunted ruins? Don't you ever scare us like that again!"
The Maharani gently pried Mrinal's fingers away. "Mrinal, let him be! He's home safe, that's all that matters." The scolding melted away, replaced by shared laughter that filled the room, the sound a balm to Devansh's soul. The simple, normal chaos of his family was a treasure he had missed dearly.
Later, the Maharaja's tone turned serious again. "This incident has decided the matter for me, Devansh. We are assigning you a personal bodyguard."
"Father, is that really necessary?" Devansh protested. "I can look after myself."
"The matter is not up for discussion," the Maharaja stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. "It is an order."
The royal minister was summoned and returned shortly with a tall, well-built young man whose posture radiated quiet competence. "Your Majesty, Prince Devansh, may I present Alok. He is one of the most skilled and disciplined soldiers in our guard."
Alok bowed deeply. "Greetings, Your Majesty. Greetings, Prince Devansh. It is an honor."
"Alok," the Maharaja said, "your duty is to remain with the Prince at all times. This is a direct command from your King, to be followed even if the Prince himself tells you otherwise."
"As you command, Your Majesty," Alok replied without hesitation.
Once the King and minister had left, Devansh looked at his new shadow. Alok stood calmly, his expression neutral but alert. "Well, Alok," Devansh said with a slight smile. "It seems you have your orders."
---
Suryapuri - A Warrior's Welcome
The reception in Suryapuri was just as warm, but louder and filled with more back-slapping. Maharaja Viraj and Maharani Sheetal engulfed both their sons in a massive, simultaneous embrace.
"Welcome home, my brave boys!" the Maharaja exclaimed, his voice echoing in the grand hall. Virendra quickly took charge of the narrative, regaling their parents with a (slightly sanitized) version of the events, highlighting Aditya's courage and their eventual triumph.
The Maharani turned her worried gaze to Aditya. "A bodyguard," she declared, her tone brooking no argument. "After this, you will have a personal guard."
Aditya groaned. "Mother, I just fought a magical monstrosity! I think I can handle myself!"
"It is for our peace of mind, beta," the Maharaja said firmly. The minister was called and presented a soldier named Nihar, whose sharp eyes and confident stance marked him as a warrior.
"Greetings, my Lords. I am Nihar. My life for the Prince's safety."
"You will stay with Aditya, always," the Maharaja commanded. "His protests are to be ignored."
After his parents left, Aditya sized up Nihar. A competitive glint appeared in his eyes. "So, you're to be my shadow? Prove you're worthy. Sword fight. Now."
Nihar didn't flinch. "As you wish, My Prince."
They sparred right there in the courtyard. It was a thrilling display of skill. Nihar was incredibly proficient, his defense impeccable and his strikes precise. He pushed Aditya harder than most guards dared, earning grunts of effort and respect. In the end, Aditya's raw power won out, disarming Nihar with a powerful twist of his wrist.
Breathing heavily, a wide grin spread across Aditya's face. He clapped Nihar on the shoulder. "You have spirit! And skill. Alright then, Nihar. Welcome. Try to keep up."
---
A Message on the Wind
Back in Chandrapuri, as Devansh was getting accustomed to Alok's silent, ever-present company, a royal messenger hurried into the hall, bowing low before the Maharaja.
"Hail, Maharaj! A urgent missive has arrived from the Kingdom of himgiri!"
The cheerful atmosphere in the room shifted subtly. All eyes turned to the scroll in the messenger's hand, a new thread of destiny waiting to be unraveled.
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Chapter End Note:
The princes are home, surrounded by the protective, loving, and sometimes overbearing embrace of their families. New guardians stand watchful at their sides, a testament to the dangers they have faced and the love that seeks to shield them from future harm. The bonds of brotherhood and family have been reaffirmed, providing a solid foundation of normalcy and love. But as a message from a northern kingdom arrives, it is clear that the calm is only a prelude. The world beyond their palace walls continues to turn, and new stories, new challenges, and new connections are already knocking at their door. The journey is far from over.