The years seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Karna was now 14, Vrushali 13, and their lives were intertwined with their training and shared adventures. Amid their routine, a new face emerged—one that would soon alter the course of their lives.
Amrit, an 8-year-old boy from the Shudra caste, lived a life shadowed by ridicule and discrimination. His fascination with weapons was a source of amusement for other children, who taunted him mercilessly.
The elders in his village, bound by tradition, forbade him from even touching a weapon. Yet, Amrit's love for the art of combat remained undeterred, and every day, he found solace in watching the warriors train at the ground from a distance.
One day, while observing from the shadows, Amrit noticed two others standing nearby, just as captivated by the training. At first, he didn't think much of it, but as days turned into weeks, the pair became a familiar sight. His curiosity got the better of him, and one day, he decided to follow them.
Hidden behind trees, Amrit trailed them to a secluded spot in the woods where wooden weapons were laid out.
The duo—Karna and Vrushali—were engrossed in practice, their movements fluid and precise. Their skill mesmerized Amrit, but before he could retreat, Karna's sharp eyes caught him.
"Who's there?" Karna called out, his voice firm but not unkind.
Amrit stepped out hesitantly, his head bowed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."
Vrushali looked at him curiously, lowering her wooden sword. "What's your name? Why were you following us?"
"My name is Amrit," he said quietly. "I… I like weapons. But because of my caste, I can't learn. The others laugh at me when I say I want to train."
Karna and Vrushali exchanged glances. Karna stepped forward, his expression softening. "You like weapons, huh? Then why not practice here with us?"
Amrit's eyes widened in disbelief. "Really? You mean it?"
"Yes," Karna said, but then his gaze turned critical as he took in Amrit's frail frame. "But before you start training, you need to work on your body. Training with weapons can harm you if you're not strong enough."
Amrit nodded eagerly. "I'll do whatever you say!"
From that day, Karna put Amrit on a strict regimen of physical training—running, push-ups, lifting small weights made of stones.
To ensure Amrit's thin body could handle the strain, Karna also brought him fruits to eat daily, even sharing some of his own meals. Weeks turned into months, and Amrit's determination began to bear fruit.
One afternoon, as Karna went to the forest to gather fruits, he stumbled upon a hunter stalking prey with incredible precision.
The hunter's movements were deliberate, his eyes scanning the ground for tracks and subtle signs. Intrigued, Karna approached, but the hunter quickly spun around, his bow drawn.
"Who are you?" the hunter demanded, his voice sharp.
Karna raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "I'm just a boy curious about what you're doing. My name is Vasusena, but everyone calls me Vasu."
The hunter lowered his bow slightly, though his expression remained wary. "This is not a place for children. Go back to your village."
"I'm not here to cause trouble," Karna replied. "I just want to learn how you track prey. Your skill is incredible."
The hunter studied him for a moment before shaking his head. "Tracking isn't something you can learn by asking questions. It takes years of experience and observation."
"I'm willing to learn," Karna said earnestly. "I can come here every day to train. People in the village don't support my training, so I practice here in secret."
The hunter's stern demeanor softened. "You're a determined one, aren't you? Fine. I'll teach you what I can. But remember, this is not a game. The forest is unforgiving."
Karna grinned. "Thank you! I promise I'll work hard."
From then on, Karna began visiting the hunter twice a week. Under his guidance, Karna learned to read the forest—the broken twigs, faint footprints, and subtle rustling of leaves that spoke volumes about the creatures within.
One evening, as Karna returned from the forest, Vrushali noticed the twigs and leaves clinging to his clothes.
"Where have you been, Vasu?" she asked suspiciously.
Karna hesitated but then decided to tell her the truth. "I've been learning from a hunter in the forest. He's teaching me how to track prey and understand the ways of the wild."
Vrushali frowned. "And you didn't think to tell me? What if something happened to you?"
Karna smiled reassuringly. "I'm careful, Vrushali. Besides, this training will make me a better archer. You'll see."
Though reluctant, Vrushali eventually accepted his reasoning, and their routine continued.
The days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. Amrit, under Karna's guidance, was slowly transforming. The once-frail boy now had the beginnings of strength and stamina.
Karna and Vrushali worked tirelessly to teach him about discipline and resilience, ensuring that his body and mind grew together.
Karna continued his secret visits to the hunter, learning how to track prey, navigate the wild, and sharpen his instincts. Vrushali, though worried at first, eventually found herself impressed by Karna's dedication. The bond between the three—Karna, Vrushali, and Amrit—grew stronger as they trained and supported one another.
A year passed, and though Amrit's body had grown stronger, his heart bore the scars of constant abuse and discrimination. The village children still taunted him mercilessly, calling him names and mocking his dreams of becoming a warrior.
The elders dismissed him as foolish, reminding him of his caste and "place" in society. Despite Karna and Vrushali's encouragement, the relentless cruelty began to take its toll.
One afternoon, as Amrit was walking through the village, a group of boys surrounded him.
"Hey, Shudra!" one of them sneered. "Still pretending you can be a warrior?"
"Yeah," another chimed in, "you should stick to cleaning and carrying water. That's all you're good for!"
Amrit clenched his fists, trying to walk away, but the boys blocked his path.
"What's the matter?" one of them taunted. "Are you going to cry? Or maybe you'll run to your 'warrior' friends to protect you?"
Amrit's chest heaved with anger and frustration. He had endured their insults for so long, trying to ignore them, trying to rise above. But today was different.
Inside his mind, two voices began to battle.
The first was calm and gentle. "Amrit, don't stoop to their level. Karna and Vrushali believe in you. Focus on your training and prove them wrong through your actions."
The second voice was darker, filled with rage. "Why should you endure this any longer? They deserve to feel the pain they've caused you. Show them your strength. Make them fear you."
Amrit's heart pounded as the two sides warred within him. The dark voice grew louder. "They'll never stop unless you make them stop. They see your kindness as weakness. It's time to show them who you really are."
His vision blurred with anger, and the dark side won.
Amrit suddenly lashed out, shoving the boy in front of him to the ground. The others froze in shock for a moment, but before they could react, Amrit charged.
"You think I'm weak?" he yelled, his voice trembling with fury. "You think you can treat me like dirt?!"
He grabbed one of the boys by the collar and threw him into the dirt. Another tried to punch him, but Amrit ducked and retaliated with a swift jab to the stomach. The boy doubled over, gasping for air.
The remaining boys backed away, fear creeping into their eyes. But Amrit wasn't done. He grabbed a stick lying nearby and swung it at the group, forcing them to scatter.
As the boys fled, Amrit felt a surge of twisted satisfaction. His lips curled into a smile—one that sent chills down their spines as they ran. For the first time, they saw not the weak, timid boy they had mocked, but someone terrifying, someone capable of striking back.
Amrit stood there, breathing heavily, the stick still in his hand. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions—relief, anger, guilt, and something darker.
The first voice whispered again, faint and sorrowful. "This isn't you, Amrit. This isn't the path Karna and Vrushali would want for you."
But the dark voice growled in satisfaction. "They deserved it. And you finally showed them your strength. This is the only way to survive in this world."
Amrit dropped the stick and walked away, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions.
That evening, Karna noticed something different about Amrit. The boy was quieter than usual, his eyes avoiding Karna's.
"What's wrong, Amrit?" Karna asked gently.
"Nothing," Amrit replied quickly, his voice clipped.
Karna frowned but didn't press further. He decided to give Amrit some space, hoping the boy would open up when he was ready.
Over the following weeks, Amrit threw himself into training with even greater intensity. He began to develop a harder edge, his movements more aggressive and his focus sharper. Karna and Vrushali noticed the change but attributed it to his determination.
One day, Karna handed Amrit a wooden bow and said, "You've worked hard, Amrit. You're ready to start weapon training."
Amrit took the bow, his hands steady and his eyes determined. "Thank you, Vasu. I'll make you proud."
Unbeknownst to all, Amrit's soul carried a deeper truth. He was the reincarnation of Sahasrakavacha, a powerful Asura whose past was filled with battles and vengeance. Though Amrit himself didn't know it, the shadows of his past life began to influence him, shaping his thoughts and actions.
And so, the journey of the three began—Karna, Vrushali, and Amrit—each carrying their own burdens, dreams, and destinies. What lay ahead was unknown, but together, they would face it, bound by a fragile yet unbreakable bond.