The morning mist still clung to the carved pillars of Vyomtara Manor, a pearlescent veil softening the edges of the stone courtyard. Aditya, Sasi, and Aryan sat cross-legged on the cool flagstones, facing Rishi Vedananda. The air itself seemed to hum—expectant, as though the world were holding its breath alongside them. Rishi's ancient eyes met each of theirs in turn.
"Today," Rishi said, his voice a low, steady resonance, "we find the stillness within. We breathe. We become the breath."
Aditya shifted, restless energy buzzing beneath his skin. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to focus, tracing the rhythm of his breath—something he rarely slowed enough to notice.Sasi settled naturally, his spine straight, his breathing already even and calm.Aryan's awareness widened, extending beyond his body, brushing against the moss between the stones and the faint pulse of life beneath the earth.
"Om," Rishi intoned.
The sound vibrated through the courtyard, through stone and soil alike. The triplets joined him.
Aditya felt the vibration bloom in his chest, warmth spreading beneath his ribs—unfamiliar, yet welcoming.Sasi felt it settle deep within his bones, steady and precise, like a promise being kept.Aryan felt it weave through the air itself, threading him gently to everything around him.
They chanted together, the sound rising and falling like a tide. Each repetition grew deeper, longer, until Om was no longer merely a sound, but a state of being. The mist thinned, retreating as though pushed back by their voices.
Rishi raised his hand. Silence fell—not empty, but dense with gathered energy.
"Feel the breath," he murmured. "Let it fill you, from the soles of your feet to the crown of your head. Draw it in. Hold it. Release it. With each cycle, feel the chakra awaken at your root—the foundation from which all power rises."
At the base of their spines, something stirred.
Aditya imagined a tiny ember, faint but alive. With each breath, it brightened. A soft warmth bloomed, surprising him enough to make his lips twitch—less excitement, more recognition.
Sasi envisioned a deep, still reservoir—contained, vast, unwavering. As he breathed, the pool deepened, its surface smooth, its depth absolute.
Aryan felt roots extend from within himself, sinking through stone into soil, drawing up life and balance. A peaceful smile touched his face, as though he had found something he had always been holding.
From the archway, Duke Varesh and Duchess Elaria watched in silence. Varesh's arms were crossed, his expression composed, while Elaria's hand rested lightly on his arm, her gaze never leaving the children. Beside them, Sarvani clasped her hands tightly, and Achintya's brow was furrowed with quiet intensity.
"Now," Rishi said, his voice firm but gentle, "guide that energy upward. Not by force, but by intent. Let it flow into your dominant hand. Remember—elements are not learned here. They are remembered."
In Nirvan, elements were not learned—they were answered.
"They are the expression of your chakra, shaped by the constellation bound to your soul."
This was a truth few understood: chakra alone governed depth and control. The element was its voice—unique, inseparable, and alive.
Aditya's heart thudded.
Fire.
He guided the warmth upward, through his spine, along his arm, into his palm. Slowly, he opened his hand.
A spark appeared—crimson and vivid. A living ember pulsed in his palm, casting a red glow across his fingers. His breath caught, and then he laughed, breathless and unrestrained.
"It's warm," he whispered, tilting his head as if greeting an old friend. The flame swayed when he moved his wrist—obedient, playful, alive.
Sasi watched briefly, admiration flickering in his eyes, before turning inward.
Thunder—not chaos, but control.
Energy rose like a disciplined current. When he opened his palm, royal-blue lightning shimmered between his fingers—silent, refined, humming with restrained force. He adjusted his fingers slightly, watching the arcs respond instantly. A small, satisfied smile curved his lips.
Aryan lifted his hand last.
A soft, light-green glow bloomed from his palm—not flame or lightning, but living breath. The air around him felt fuller. Nearby, a blade of grass leaned subtly toward his hand, its color deepening, as though answering a call it had always known.
Aryan's eyes widened—not in shock, but in quiet wonder.
Rishi inhaled slowly. A rare smile touched his face.
Too easy, he thought—not in arrogance, but in harmony.
Aditya experimented, stretching his fingers. The fire elongated, becoming a flickering torch. He laughed aloud, spinning his hand as the flame followed, his shoulders swaying with joy.
Sasi refined his control, guiding the lightning from finger to finger, his posture relaxed yet alert, confidence settling naturally into his stance.
Aryan extended his palm toward a small sapling at the courtyard's edge. A dormant bud unfurled, slow and deliberate. He nodded faintly, as if acknowledging a shared understanding.
From the archway, Varesh's stern expression softened. Elaria gasped, tears spilling freely now. Sarvani pressed her face into Achintya's shoulder, while Achintya wiped his eyes, pride finally breaking through his composure.
"You do not command your elements," Rishi said softly. "You walk alongside them. This is not learning—it is remembrance."
The truth settled into the courtyard like sacred ash.
Gradually, fatigue crept in. Aditya's flame dimmed. Sasi's arcs thinned. Aryan's glow faded.
Rishi raised his hand. "That is enough. The first awakening is always the brightest—and the most draining."
The elements vanished, leaving warmth, tingling, and quiet exhaustion behind.
Elaria rushed forward, pulling Aditya into a fierce embrace. Varesh rested a firm hand on Sasi's shoulder. Sarvani and Achintya knelt beside Aryan, grounding him with gentle, reverent hands.
The courtyard no longer shimmered with elemental light—but with something deeper.
Family.Pride.Beginning.
Rishi Vedananda watched them, serene and knowing.
This was only the first breath.
And the path ahead had just begun.