Royal Quarters
The Royal Quarters were already bustling despite the early hour. Servants hurried through the corridors carrying bundles of records, scribes settled behind newly arranged desks, and officials moved from room to room with armfuls of reports. Those who had accompanied the Yuvraj from Vala worked alongside the older household staff of Takshashila, patiently teaching them the methods that had become commonplace in the capital over the past decade. The changes, for now, were modest. Hamsa had yet to establish the ministries and administrative offices he intended to create, preferring first to understand the province he had inherited before rebuilding its bureaucracy around a new system.
The old audience hall had, for the time being, been converted into a makeshift administrative center. The remainder of the residence was undergoing gradual renovations as craftsmen worked wherever they could without disrupting daily operations. New mana lamps had begun replacing the old oil lighting, the kitchens were being expanded and reorganized, pipes were slowly being laid throughout the complex, and one corner of the service wing now housed a crude but remarkably effective ice-cooled cabinet that served as a temporary refrigerator until something more permanent could be built.
At the head of the hall sat Yuvraj Hamsa, completely absorbed in the reports spread across his desk. Beside him lay Chotu, the white tiger resting contentedly with his head across the Yuvraj's lap. Without once looking away from the document before him, Hamsa absentmindedly scratched behind the tiger's ears, earning a low rumbling growl of satisfaction every few moments.
The rest of the hall was no less busy. Half a dozen scribes worked through mountains of old records, sorting, copying, and organizing them into the new formats requested by the Yuvraj. Behind them, dasas and dasis carried completed documents between desks, filed finished records, and gradually learned to read and write under the guidance of the senior clerks. Hamsa had long since decided that even household servants benefited from basic literacy if they were expected to work within an efficient administration.
Before long, Padmavathi entered the hall with Ranapala following a respectful pace behind her. The two exchanged a brief glance as they passed the threshold—subtle, familiar, the kind that came from years of shared life rather than words.
"What did they say?" Hamsa asked without lifting his eyes from the report in his hands.
"They agreed to meet," Padmavathi replied. "Though not all the Gurus will attend. Guru Srujan will represent them, accompanied by several students, including the girl who assisted us during the GMZ operation."
"Ashwini."
"Yes, Yuvraj."
Hamsa finally looked up.
"And Guru Srujan?"
"From what I've been able to gather, he is among the most respected Acharyas in Takshashila. If he is convinced, I believe the others will at least give your proposals a fair hearing."
"Good."
Hamsa gave a small nod before returning to the report.
"You may rest for the remainder of the day. After that, begin preparing your team. Several survey sites have already been marked, and I want your team ready by next week."
Padmavathi bowed.
"As you command."
She turned to leave, but as she passed Ranapala, her hand briefly brushed the edge of his sleeve—subtle enough that no one in the room would have commented on it, but familiar enough that he instinctively adjusted his stance as if acknowledging it.
She exited quietly.
"Ranapala."
The Royal Guard had only taken a few steps before stopping.
"I need you to stay."
Without hesitation, he turned back and resumed his position a pace behind and to the left of the Yuvraj, posture relaxed in a way that would have been unthinkable for most guards in his position.
Several moments passed while Hamsa finished reading the report before finally setting it aside.
"So. How are the people? Any talent? Also did you find a good location for training as well."
Ranapala exhaled lightly, as though already expecting the question.
"As far as the terrain is concerned, I've identified several locations suitable for the training grounds you described. As for the people..." He paused briefly. "There is talent. Plenty of it. But nothing exceptional yet. Nearly everyone has been trained according to traditional methods. None have been exposed to anything resembling the system we developed under you."
"That's expected."
Hamsa folded his hands together.
"In that case, you'll oversee the training of the new recruits. You and Garuda will also take charge of the cadets arriving from the Military Academy in Vala as well, until Naga is done with this work."
Ranapala raised an eyebrow.
"Why me?"
Hamsa glanced up, the faintest trace of amusement in his expression.
"Because I can't go around breaking every promising young recruit myself."
A few nearby scribes quickly lowered their heads, though a couple of them failed to fully hide their smiles.
"I'd also like them to learn something before they lose all hope in life."
Ranapala let out a short laugh.
A light chuckle spread through the hall among those who had accompanied the Yuvraj from Vala, though their hands never stopped moving as work continued.
The following days passed much the same.
The Royal Quarters remained a hive of activity from dawn until well after sunset. New staff learned the methods introduced in Vala while the older household officials gradually adapted to them, records that had accumulated over decades were sorted and reorganized, craftsmen continued their renovations throughout the complex, and every evening fresh reports found their way onto the Yuvraj's desk. Though little of it was visible to the common eye, the machinery of a new administration was slowly beginning to take shape.
Audience Hall
By the end of the week, the old administrative hall had once again begun to resemble a proper audience chamber. It would only be a matter of time before the Governor of Takshashila was expected to hear petitions, settle disputes, and preside over matters that, in the absence of a formal judiciary or organized police force, still fell upon the local ruler. Until Hamsa established the institutions he envisioned, governance would have to continue in the traditional manner.
The day's audience had finally come to an end. As attendants cleared away the last of the records and petitioners filtered out of the hall, Hamsa stepped down from his seat and made his way through the corridors overlooking the inner gardens, Sarasvathi following a respectful few paces behind as they headed toward the dining hall.
"How are things progressing?" he asked.
"We've begun training the new staff while retraining the old," Sarasvathi replied. "Most have adapted well enough, but appointments, dismissals, and promotions remain... difficult. Too much is still tied to custom, family standing, and personal patronage. Changing those habits will take time."
"That was always expected." Hamsa nodded. "Merit alone cannot replace tradition overnight. If we force the issue, people will resist the system before they've had the chance to benefit from it. For now, make sure nothing gets out of hand."
"As you command." Sarasvathi inclined her head before hesitating slightly. "There is another matter."
"What is it?"
"Mena's report arrived yesterday. Several merchant houses from the capital have begun buying up land, construction materials, and other supplies throughout the city. Prices have already started rising, and it is beginning to affect our treasury."
Hamsa came to a halt.
Damn... that was faster than I expected.
The thought lasted only a moment before he resumed walking.
"For now, slow down the minor projects, especially those involving general infrastructure. Keep the important ones moving, particularly anything under Padmavathi's supervision. There's no point bidding against merchants over work that can wait." He thought for a moment before continuing. "Once I've met with the guilds next month, we should be able to stabilize the situation."
"As you command." Sarasvathi paused before adding, "I should also mention that, at our current pace, the treasury is spending a little over ten thousand coins every week. Even if we reduce expenditures as you suggested, our reserves are expected to last just under three years."
Hamsa simply nodded as they continued walking, though he noticed the concern in Sarasvathi's voice.
"You don't need to worry so much. Once Padmavathi's work is complete, we'll have a steady source of income. High-quality steel already commands an excellent price, and we'll be producing it in quantities that would be unprecedented for the amount of labor involved."
"But won't increasing the supply reduce its value?" Sarasvathi asked.
"It will." Hamsa smiled faintly. "Which is why we simply have to outlast everyone else. We have nearly three years of reserves. Most private workshops don't."
"But won't we need the steel ourselves?"
"We will. But we'll produce enough to do both. Besides demand will increase as well."
After a few more steps, Hamsa changed the subject.
"When do I have two uninterrupted weeks free?"
Sarasvathi thought for a moment before consulting her notes.
"Not until the end of the season."
Before Hamsa could respond, she began listing the engagements that already filled his schedule.
Several Weeks Later
Royal Quarters
The weeks that followed passed quickly.
Although the less essential infrastructure projects had been temporarily slowed to ease the strain on the treasury, the rest of the administration continued to gather momentum. The newly recruited staff had become familiar enough with the systems introduced from Vala that the senior officials no longer needed to watch over them constantly, allowing experienced administrators to turn their attention toward larger matters. Meanwhile, surveys continued across the province, military training grounds were being prepared, and reports from every corner of Takshashila steadily accumulated on the Yuvraj's desk.
The gathering Hamsa had called with the university had also proved more productive than he had expected. Rather than ending with polite formalities, it had opened the door to proper negotiations with the senior Gurus regarding future cooperation between the university and the provincial administration. Much like the merchant guilds—which he was scheduled to meet over the coming days—the university had chosen a single representative to negotiate on its behalf.
That representative was Guru Srujan.
Now, beneath the shade of the palace gardens, two men sat opposite one another on seats of equal height, a deliberate gesture that acknowledged mutual respect without implying subordination. Behind the Yuvraj stood Rajkumar Garuda and Ranapala, while Guru Srujan was accompanied by Ashwini and another disciple by the name of Wong.
Courteous smiles were exchanged across the table, yet the atmosphere remained strangely tense, almost as though an argument—or perhaps a duel—had only just come to an end.
Why is it that every old man in this world seems to think throwing near fatal attacks at me is an appropriate greeting?
Hamsa kept the thought to himself.
Only a few moments earlier...
"Yuvraj, they have arrived," one of the guards announced before bowing and withdrawing.
"Brother," Garuda said, looking toward Hamsa, who remained absorbed in one of the scriptures he had brought from Vala. "Just... don't do anything outrageous."
Hamsa looked up from the palm-leaf manuscript.
"What exactly do you take me for?"
"I'm just saying," Garuda replied with a sigh. "Try not to make Mother worry."
Hamsa smiled faintly.
"Don't worry. By now, I'm fairly certain Mother has grown immune to reading about me doing something outrageous again."
Garuda considered that for a moment before nodding.
"...Fair enough."
Silence settled over the room as they waited.
Before long, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the corridor.
Hamsa carefully set the scripture aside before rising to his feet. Garuda stood beside him, while Ranapala, who had already been standing guard, straightened into a formal stance.
A moment later, the guards at the entrance stepped aside.
Guru Srujan entered first.
The elderly Guru walked with an easy confidence, a long staff resting in one hand. Near its upper end, mana shimmered faintly around the carved head of the staff, while his saffron robes swayed gently behind him. A few steps back followed Ashwini and Wong.
Hamsa took a step forward to greet them.
Without the slightest warning, Guru Srujan moved.
In one fluid motion, he brought the butt of his staff crashing against the stone floor before sweeping it upward in a wide arc. Mana surged through the weapon as the flagstones cracked, sending dozens of stone fragments hurtling toward the Yuvraj.
Caught completely off guard, Hamsa reacted on instinct.
His Mana Zone expanded just enough to grasp the incoming attack without pressing against those around him. Almost simultaneously, he swept one hand across his body, gathering the surrounding air into a powerful gust that caught the flying stones and diverted them away from the gathering, sending them crashing harmlessly into the adjoining indoor training ground.
But Guru Srujan never paused.
Using the momentum of the same movement, he pivoted on his heel and swung the staff around once more. This time, instead of stone, a compressed blade of wind shot toward the Yuvraj with startling speed.
By then, Ashwini and Wong had already lunged forward, each grabbing hold of their Guru in a frantic attempt to restrain him, while Ranapala and Garuda instinctively stepped between the attack and the Yuvraj, even if neither truly believed he needed their protection.
Hamsa, however, had already responded.
Raising his left hand, he drew moisture from the surrounding air, gathering it into a dense sheet of water that met the incoming wind blade head-on, dispersing the attack before it could travel any farther.
Present
"It seems I am not the first to do so," Guru Srujan said, studying the Yuvraj's expression and the subtle fluctuations in the small amount of mana he had allowed to escape.
"No," Hamsa replied. "You would be the second. My grandfather was the first."
Guru Srujan laughed softly at that.
"Guru Srujan, if you are sufficiently amused, can we move on to why I called you here?"
"Forgive me." The old Guru composed himself, though a trace of amusement remained on his face. "Now then, what does the Yuvraj of Valangar want with an old man like me?"
"I'll get straight to the point. Do you remember the legislation I had passed in court years ago, when I first began attending the royal sessions?"
"I do." Srujan's expression became more thoughtful. "It was something along the lines of integrating the various centers of learning—temples, universities such as this one, and even the more remote schools—into a unified educational system under the authority of the Throne." He paused. "Though I suppose it would be safer to say under your authority, Yuvraj."
"That is the intention," Hamsa admitted. "Nothing substantial has been undertaken yet, but I intend to change that. Takshashila will be the first place where we begin putting the idea into practice, and I would appreciate your assistance."
Srujan leaned back slightly and considered him for a moment.
"Why should I?" he asked at last. "I do not see enough benefit to justify the disruption. And the idea of state-wide examinations and standardized certifications you spoke of years ago concerns me even more. I believe they would do more harm than good."
"On the first matter, I agree with you to an extent." Hamsa folded his hands together. "Trying to force every institution to teach the same things, in the same manner, and at the same pace would be like asking an ant and an elephant to walk across the same rope. They are both capable of walking, but expecting them to do so in the same way would be absurd. I don't intend to make the system that rigid. Different institutions should retain the freedom to teach according to their strengths and the needs of their students. What I want is a common foundation beneath them."
"And the certifications?"
"I believe your concern is misplaced." Hamsa leaned forward slightly. "Think of a student who has completed his education but has no reliable proof of what he actually studied or how well he performed. His prospects depend entirely on someone knowing his teacher, his family, his village, or the reputation of the institution he attended. Give that same student a recognized document stating what he has learned and what level he has achieved, and suddenly he has something he can carry with him wherever he goes."
Srujan's expression remained skeptical.
"That assumes people will care about the document."
"They will." Hamsa's answer came without hesitation. "Once employers begin using them to select workers, merchants begin using them to find capable clerks and administrators, and more importantly, once the state itself begins using them when appointing people to positions that require specific knowledge, the value will establish itself. The certificate doesn't make the man capable. It simply gives others a way to verify that capability without having to take his word for it."
"That is a compelling argument," Srujan admitted. "But you still have not answered the more difficult problem. What curriculum will these institutions actually follow? You know as well as I do the state of our academia. Much of it remains informal. A Guru may teach according to the methods of his own teacher, another according to the needs of his students, and another according to what his institution has accumulated over generations. Even if we agreed on what should be taught, consolidating all of it into written curricula, copying them onto leaves or tablets, and then distributing them across the kingdom would take years."
"You need not worry about that part."
Srujan raised an eyebrow.
Hamsa smiled with the confidence of a man who had already solved the problem in his head.
"As you already know, I am reasonably intelligent and have spent a considerable amount of time studying these matters myself. I've already revolutionized mathematics, and that is only the beginning. Once I have the time to get the rest of what I know out of my head and into the world..." He gave a small shrug. "Well, they may eventually have to divide the era into before Hamsa and after Hamsa."
Srujan stared at him for a moment before letting out a quiet laugh.
"Being overly confident in oneself is rarely a virtue, Yuvraj."
"I know."
"And besides, do you not have a governorship to manage, along with your duties as the future heir to the throne? You speak as though you have nothing else to occupy your time."
"I have plenty to occupy my time." Hamsa's confidence did not waver. "But that only means I need to become better at managing it, not abandon things simply because they are difficult."
He stopped there, however, and his expression changed slightly as he searched for the right words.
"There is another reason I want to do this now..." He went silent for a moment before speaking.
Though this time, when he spoke, something in Hamsa's expression changed. His usual confidence faded slightly, replaced by the look of a man imagining a future he would rather never have to see.
"Guru Srujan, you know we are fortunate when compared with many other civilizations. We have our own traditions regarding how war should be fought. We do not make a habit of slaughtering civilians simply because a siege has taken too long, nor do we normally kill men who have already surrendered. Even when two men believe their own ways are right and the other is wrong, our first instinct is often to sit down and argue over it rather than draw a sword."
Srujan listened without interrupting.
"Those things did not come from nowhere," Hamsa continued. "They came from what we are. Our culture, our customs, the teachings passed from Guru to student, and the traditions that have been carried across generations. They are part of what keeps this civilization from becoming nothing more than a collection of kingdoms constantly tearing one another apart."
His expression hardened slightly.
"But that same system has weaknesses, and we have been fortunate enough not to suffer the consequences of them on the scale we might one day face."
"What weaknesses?" Srujan asked.
"Knowledge is one of them." Hamsa leaned back slightly. "We are proud of the texts and teachings we have preserved, yet how many people can actually reach them? A scholar in Takshashila may spend his life studying works that a farmer three thousand miles away has never even heard of. We have scholars who can debate ideas that would be revolutionary in another part of the land, while entire communities may never encounter those ideas at all."
He paused for a moment.
"And then there is language. We have languages shared by scholars, languages used by courts, and languages spoken by millions of people across different regions, but we do not have a single language through which every person can communicate with every other. Nor do we have an institution strong enough to carry knowledge, standards, and identity across all those differences."
Srujan's expression had grown considerably more serious.
"You're worried about division."
"I'm worried about what someone could do with it."
Hamsa looked toward the gardens beyond the hall.
"Imagine a future where someone from outside this civilization understands these weaknesses better than we do. Someone who knows how to exploit differences between kingdoms, regions, languages, and communities. Someone who can convince one group that another is its enemy, another that the Throne is its enemy, and another that its neighbors are not even part of the same people."
His voice remained calm, but the weight behind it had changed.
"We could destroy ourselves without the outsider ever having to conquer all of us at once."
Hamsa turned back toward Srujan.
"That is why I want education to reach beyond individual institutions. I want people to know their own traditions, but also to know the traditions of the people living on the other side of this land. I want a scholar in the north to recognize the work of one in the south. I want a soldier from the west to know that the man standing beside him from the east belongs to the same civilization."
He paused.
"The identity of Bharath already exists. I am not trying to invent it."
His eyes settled on Srujan.
"I want to make sure that one day, when someone comes to tear it apart, enough of its people understand that they have something worth protecting together."
"You speak as though your ambitions extend across the entire continent," Guru Srujan said. "As though you intend to leave your name written so deeply into history that even those who oppose you would be forced to acknowledge it."
Hamsa considered that for a moment before a faint smile appeared on his face.
"It is true that I have ambitions of becoming a Chakravarti," he admitted. "And I certainly wouldn't complain if history remembered me for what I accomplished. But that isn't the reason I want to accomplish any of this."
His expression settled back into its usual calm seriousness.
"If, someday, someone comes along who achieves more than I ever could, builds a better civilization than I managed to build, and leaves a greater mark upon this land than I ever did, then I would be happier to see their name remembered above mine than watch them cripple themselves simply to preserve my legacy."
Guru Srujan stared at him for a moment before suddenly laughing aloud.
"In all my years, I have never encountered a man who could speak so seriously about becoming the greatest Chakravarti in history while being so willing to see someone else surpass him."
Hamsa gave a small shrug.
"If they surpass me, then I must have left them something worth surpassing."
"Forgive me, Yuvraj, but you speak remarkably well for a thirteen-year-old child," Guru Srujan said, a faint smile returning to his face. "Though perhaps age matters less than I once thought." He paused before continuing. "So, for the time being, consider myself and the Gurus of Takshashila willing to cooperate with you."
Hamsa gave a slight nod. "Then I welcome your cooperation, and thank you for offering it."
He leaned back slightly, considering the old Guru for a moment.
"And seeing as things are going so well, I have a few questions for you. Most can wait, but there is one matter I'd like to understand first."
Srujan raised an eyebrow.
"The Jivatshavas. What are they and what do you and the Temples know that we do not?"