Three months had passed since Kunwar began his relentless training under Abreo's guidance. His body had transformed into that of a warrior—muscles rippling under his sun-darkened skin, and a newfound strength evident in his every movement. Yet, as formidable as he had become physically, Kunwar was still unfamiliar with the deeper powers that lay dormant within him—the chakras, the energy centers that could unlock extraordinary abilities.
It was a warm afternoon, and the fort of Jamrud buzzed with activity. The sandstone walls, now familiar to Kunwar, stood tall and resolute, adorned with banners that fluttered in the breeze. The training grounds were filled with warriors, some practicing swordplay, others meditating under the guidance of yogis. The courtyard was a sprawling cobblestone, lined with intricately carved pillars that told tales of valour and sacrifice. Small gardens filled with marigolds and jasmine added a touch of colour and fragrance to the otherwise stern surroundings.
Kunwar and Abreo stood in the courtyard, the sun casting long shadows around them. Abreo, dressed in his usual white kurta and dark trousers, looked at Kunwar with a contemplative expression. His sharp blue eyes, always critical, now held a hint of approval.
"You've grown strong, Kunwar," Abreo said, his voice carrying a rare note of praise. "But strength alone is not enough. There's a deeper power within you that you haven't even touched yet."
Kunwar furrowed his brow, intrigued. "What do you mean?"
Abreo gestured for Kunwar to sit. They settled on the cool marble steps of the training hall, a grand structure with high arches and detailed frescoes depicting the conquests of the Sikh Empire. The walls were adorned with weapons—spears, swords, and shields—each a relic of battles won.
"There are twelve chakras in the human body," Abreo began, his tone serious. "Each one is a gateway to immense power, unique to the individual who unlocks it. The chakras are not just physical; they're spiritual centers that amplify our abilities."
Kunwar listened intently as Abreo continued, outlining the chakras in order. "The Earth Star is the lowest level, representing your current state, your basic existence. From there, you have the Root, the Sacral, and the Solar Plexus chakras, each one linked to different aspects of who you are. Then comes the Heart chakra—that's the state Partap Singh has reached, a warrior's strength and compassion balanced."
Kunwar glanced at Partap, who was practicing with a group of elite soldiers nearby. Dressed in his traditional attire of a crimson turban and embroidered kurta, Partap moved with a blend of grace and power, his eyes focused and determined. His aura was commanding, and it was clear he was not just a warrior but a leader among men.
"The Throat chakra," Abreo continued, tapping his neck, "is my level. It's about communication and command. Those who master it can influence others with their words alone. Prince Naunihal has reached the Crown chakra, a state of wisdom and mental clarity that few achieve. Vice General Garja Singh has attained the Soul Star chakra, giving him extraordinary spiritual insight."
Abreo paused, his gaze turning towards the fortress's main tower, where the standards of the Sikh Empire waved proudly. "Then there is the Universal chakra, a level only reached by the greatest among us—General Hari Singh Nalwa and the Emperor himself. It bestows the power to lead entire nations."
Kunwar was captivated, but Abreo's next words left him in awe. "Beyond that lie two chakras that no mortal has ever reached—the Galactic and the Divine Gateway. They are the stuff of legends, the source of god-like power. Some say only the truly enlightened can even hope to glimpse them."
Kunwar's mind was a whirl of thoughts. These chakras were more than just energy centers; they were the essence of power, defining the very limits of human potential. "How do I unlock my chakras?" Kunwar asked, his voice filled with curiosity.
Abreo smiled faintly, a rare sight on his stern face. "There's no single path, Kunwar. Meditation, yoga, physical prowess, and experience—each of these can awaken the chakras. But you must discover your own way. The journey is personal, and only you can find what works best for you."
Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by a commotion. A soldier came running, his face pale and breathless. "The General has collapsed!" he shouted, his voice filled with panic.
Kunwar and Abreo exchanged worried glances before rushing towards the General's quarters. The path to Nalwa's room was lined with anxious guards and concerned soldiers, their expressions reflecting the gravity of the situation. The fortress's interior, usually alive with the sounds of training, had fallen silent, replaced by murmurs of worry.
Nalwa's room was a testament to his status—elegant yet austere. The walls were adorned with battle flags and portraits of great warriors. A large wooden desk, intricately carved with floral patterns, stood near the window, stacked with maps and military plans. The bed was a simple wooden structure, draped with a dark blue quilt embroidered with golden threads depicting lions and Khanda symbols.
Kunwar pushed his way through the gathered crowd and reached Nalwa's bedside. The great General lay there, his face pale and drenched in sweat. His usually fierce eyes were closed, and his breathing was laboured. Beside him stood Vice General Garja Singh, and a few other high-ranking officers, their expressions grim.
Kunwar knelt beside Nalwa, his mind racing. He had seen this before—symptoms that matched the dreaded typhoid, a disease that was difficult to treat in those times. While everyone else watched helplessly, Kunwar remained calm. "It's just typhoid," he muttered under his breath, a plan already forming in his mind.
Kunwar took charge, instructing the attendants to fetch clean water, herbs, and cooling cloths. He recalled ancient remedies he had studied in his past life, combining them with what little medical knowledge was available. Over the next week, Kunwar dedicated himself to nursing Nalwa back to health, carefully monitoring his condition, adjusting his treatment, and maintaining strict hygiene. Slowly, Nalwa's fever broke, and his strength began to return.
The soldiers of the fort watched in amazement as Nalwa's condition improved rapidly, unaware of the looming threat. News of the General's illness had spread like wildfire, and the Afghans, long held at bay by the mere presence of Nalwa, saw their opportunity. Unaware of his recovery, they began to march towards the fort, believing the time was ripe to strike.
Kunwar stood on the battlements, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the Afghan forces were assembling. The fort was a hive of preparation—warriors sharpening their blades, cannons being readied, and banners being raised. The atmosphere was tense but determined.
Kunwar clenched his fists, feeling the weight of history pressing upon him. This was the moment he had feared, the event that could alter the course of the empire. But now, things were different. Nalwa was not defeated; he was back, and so was Kunwar. The battle ahead would not just be a test of arms but of destiny itself.
As the Afghan forces advanced, the air was thick with anticipation. Warriors lined the walls, their eyes fierce and unyielding. Kunwar felt a surge of energy within him as if something deep inside was beginning to awaken. The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: this was a battle that would be remembered, a moment that could change everything.
Would history repeat itself, or would this be the first time that fate would be rewritten? Kunwar's heart pounded with resolve. He was ready to fight, not just for the empire, but for a future that was yet to be written.