Training with Sister Anvi was unlike anything Rudra had experienced so far.
His lessons with Ganesha had led him inward, towards the spirit and the hidden centres of his own being. Karthikeya had pushed him towards the limits of his body, forcing him to understand the immense strength he had gained and the control required to wield it. Devi Jyoti had placed him before fire, teaching him that an element was not merely something one controlled with the hands, but something deeply connected with one's emotions and inner state.
But Sister Anvi's lessons carried him in another direction.
She taught him to look outward.
To observe the world around him.
To understand the lives that existed beside his own.
Their training took place within the Forest of the Forgotten, though Sister Anvi never confined their lessons to a single place. Some days, she would take Rudra through open clearings where sunlight touched the earth between ancient trees. On other days, they travelled through quiet paths filled with medicinal herbs and flowering plants. There were places where the air was thick with fragrance, others where strange plants grew beneath the shadows, and still others where the very leaves carried faint traces of spiritual energy.
Rudra soon realised that the forest was far more complicated than it appeared.
He found Sister Anvi waiting for him beside a small clearing one morning. Several baskets rested around her, filled with leaves, flowers, roots and small pieces of bark. Some of the plants were ordinary, but others were unfamiliar to him.
"What are we learning today, Devi Anvi?"
Sister Anvi looked up.
Rudra immediately stopped.
She stared at him.
Rudra stared back.
Then he sighed.
"Yes, yes... I know."
She continued staring.
Rudra looked away.
"What are we learning today, Sister Anvi?"
Her face immediately brightened.
"Plants."
Rudra looked around the clearing. "That's all?"
Sister Anvi smiled.
"That is more than enough."
Rudra had already begun learning what that smile meant.
He sat down beside her.
She picked up a leaf from one of the plants and placed it upon her palm.
"Tell me what you see."
"A leaf."
Sister Anvi looked at him.
Rudra corrected himself.
"A green leaf."
She continued looking at him.
He sighed again.
"A green leaf... from a plant."
Her smile widened.
"Rudra."
"Yes, Sister Anvi?"
"Do you know why I brought you here?"
"To teach me about plants."
"No."
He frowned. "Then why?"
"To teach you how little you actually know about them."
Rudra looked at the leaf again.
She gently placed it back upon the plant.
"Most people walk through a forest and believe they understand it because they can see the trees, the flowers and the grass. They give things names and believe that knowing a name means knowing the thing itself."
Her hand moved gently across the leaves.
"But a plant is more than its name. It has a nature, a purpose and a place within the world around it. Some heal, some harm, some nourish, some protect, and some simply keep the balance of the land around them."
She turned towards Rudra.
"If you wish to protect the forests one day, you must first learn how to understand them."
That became the beginning of Rudra's training.
Sister Anvi began by teaching him about the plants that existed in the mortal world. She explained that many of them had been used for generations, their knowledge preserved through observation and practice. Yet even among the simplest medicinal plants, Rudra quickly learned that knowing what a plant did was not enough.
One had to know how to prepare it.
The part of the plant mattered.
The quantity mattered.
The method mattered.
Even the timing could matter.
One of the first plants she taught him about was Ashwagandha. Rudra had heard its name before, though he had never understood much about it. Sister Anvi showed him the roots and explained their use in supporting strength and recovery.
"But if it is useful," Rudra asked, "why not simply eat the root?"
Sister Anvi gave him a patient smile.
"Why not eat an entire forge when you wish to make a weapon?"
Rudra stared at her.
She smiled more brightly.
"Everything has a process."
She introduced him to a method of preparation known as Kshirapaka. The herb was prepared with milk and water, then heated slowly until the preparation reached the required stage. Rudra watched the process carefully, observing how the mixture changed over time.
"Fire," he said, watching it.
Sister Anvi looked at him.
"What about it?"
"It has to be controlled here too."
She smiled softly. "Exactly."
He had learned something similar under Devi Jyoti. Fire was not merely about producing heat. The intensity mattered. Too much could destroy what one wished to preserve, while too little could leave the process incomplete.
Rudra remained beside the preparation until Sister Anvi finally nodded in approval.
"You see? Your lessons are not separate from one another."
Rudra thought about it.
Ganesha had taught him to control his mind. Karthikeya had taught him to control his body. Devi Jyoti had taught him to control his fire and emotions.
Now...
Sister Anvi was showing him where all of that control could be used.
The next plant was Tulsi.
This time, Rudra recognised it immediately.
"Tulsi."
Sister Anvi looked at him.
Rudra hesitated.
"That is not enough, is it?"
"No."
He smiled slightly.
She explained its medicinal value and showed him how fresh leaves could be used to prepare Svarasa. The leaves were pounded carefully, allowing their juice to be extracted while fresh.
Rudra watched closely.
He had seen Tulsi countless times before. He had smelled it, touched its leaves and walked past it without ever giving it much thought.
But now, he noticed things he had never noticed.
The structure of the leaves.
Their fragrance.
The moisture released when they were crushed.
The colour of the fresh juice.
"You have seen Tulsi before," Sister Anvi said.
"Many times."
"And yet?"
Rudra looked down at the plant.
"I never truly looked at it."
Her expression softened.
"That is the difference between seeing and understanding."
Those words remained with him.
Sister Anvi then taught him about Brahmi and its association with the mind and memory. She explained another method of preparation involving Ghrita, where the qualities of a plant were carried through clarified butter.
The lessons gradually became more detailed.
Rudra learned that different plants could require different preparations. Some were used fresh. Others were dried. Some were prepared with water, others with milk or clarified butter. The same plant could possess different effects depending upon which part was used and how it was prepared.
He learned about roots, stems, bark, flowers, leaves and seeds.
He learned how some plants could heal wounds while others helped the body recover from exhaustion. Some could calm the mind, while others were used for respiratory problems. He also learned about poisonous plants.
One afternoon, Rudra pointed towards a beautiful flower growing beside a stream.
"This one must be useful."
Sister Anvi looked at him.
"Why?"
"It looks healthy."
She stared at him.
Rudra slowly realised his mistake.
"Rudra," she said patiently, "does a poisonous snake look sick because it can kill you?"
"No."
"Then why would you assume that a poisonous plant must look unpleasant?"
Rudra looked at the flower again.
"Fair enough."
Sister Anvi smiled.
"Beauty is not always kindness."
Rudra looked towards her.
"And ugliness is not always danger?"
Her smile widened.
"Now you are learning."
Rudra shook his head.
"You really enjoy doing that, don't you?"
"Doing what?"
"Making me think I understand something before proving that I don't."
Sister Anvi smiled innocently.
"I have no idea what you mean."
Rudra sighed.
Of course she did.
As the days continued, his lessons gradually moved beyond ordinary medicinal plants. Sister Anvi began taking him towards parts of the forest where the plants carried a stronger spiritual presence. Some possessed leaves that seemed to hold faint light within them, while others grew only in places where the spiritual energies of the land were particularly strong.
These were not entirely mortal forms of life.
"Have you heard of Sanjeevani?" Sister Anvi asked him one day.
Rudra immediately turned towards her.
Of course he had.
Sanjeevani was a name carried through stories and legends. It was spoken of as a herb capable of restoring life to those standing at the boundary between life and death.
Sister Anvi's expression became serious.
"Legends often become stories because people remember only the part they understand."
Rudra listened.
"The rarest forms of such flora are connected not merely with the body, but with Prana itself. Their nature touches the boundary between the life held within the body and the essence that gives that body its vitality."
Rudra remained silent.
"Can it truly bring someone back?"
Sister Anvi looked at him for a long moment.
"That is not a question one should ask with curiosity alone."
He understood immediately.
Anything connected with life and death carried consequences.
"Knowledge that preserves life can become dangerous when sought by those who do not understand the value of it," she continued. "That is why some knowledge is not hidden because it is evil. It is hidden because people are not always ready to use it."
Rudra looked towards the surrounding forest.
For the first time, medicine did not simply feel like knowledge about healing.
It felt like responsibility.
Sister Anvi also taught him about plants that belonged more clearly to the divine realms. Among them was the Parijat, the celestial tree whose beauty had travelled into countless stories. She spoke of its ancient connection with the great cosmic ocean and the unusual nature of its flowers.
Rudra listened quietly as she described it.
"Why do divine plants always seem connected with something more than their physical form?"
Sister Anvi smiled.
"Because they often are."
She explained that some divine flora could be understood through their physical properties, while others carried meanings and spiritual connections that were as important as the plant itself.
Parijat was not merely a beautiful tree.
Sanjeevani was not merely a medicinal herb.
And the Kalpavriksha, whose nature Rudra had already learned about earlier, was another example of how divine flora could carry meanings that extended far beyond their branches and roots.
The more Rudra learned, the more he understood that the natural world was not divided as simply as mortals believed.
There were plants of the Earth.
Plants of the divine realms.
Plants shaped by spiritual energy.
Plants whose nature had been forgotten.
And plants that continued existing quietly, even though the world around them had forgotten their importance.
Perhaps the plant that affected Rudra most deeply, however, was the Bilva.
Sister Anvi took him towards an ancient Bilva tree growing within a quiet region touched by the stillness of Kailash. The tree seemed older than the others around it, and its presence carried a strange calm.
Rudra approached slowly.
His eyes moved towards its trifoliate leaves.
Creation.
Preservation.
Destruction.
Three forces represented together.
He touched one of the leaves.
"Why does it feel different?" Rudra asked.
Sister Anvi watched him carefully.
"Because not every plant is meant to nourish the body."
He looked towards her.
"Some nourish something deeper."
She explained that the sacred Bilva carried a subtle spiritual nature, its presence connected with stillness and meditation. The vibrations surrounding it could help calm the mind and reduce the restless movement of thought.
Rudra looked back towards the tree.
Without another word, he walked towards it and sat beneath its shade.
Sister Anvi did not stop him.
Rudra closed his eyes.
At first, he intended only to meditate for a few moments. But as he sat there, he became aware of the forest around him in a way he had not experienced before. He could hear the movement of the leaves, the soft rustle of grass and the distant sound of water.
Slowly...
His mind became quiet.
The lessons Ganesha had taught him began returning naturally. Rudra focused upon his breath, his body and the energies within him. Yet this meditation felt different.
The forest was not outside his awareness.
It was part of it.
For the first time, Rudra understood something Sister Anvi had been trying to teach him since the beginning.
Nature was not a collection of things existing separately from one another.
The tree was connected with the soil.
The soil was connected with water.
The water sustained the plants.
The plants fed the creatures.
The creatures changed the land.
And all of them existed within the same great rhythm.
Rudra sat quietly beneath the Bilva tree, listening to that rhythm.
Sister Anvi watched him from a distance.
A soft smile appeared upon her face.
She did not disturb him.
She simply allowed her younger brother to remain there.
By the time Rudra opened his eyes, the light had changed.
He looked towards Sister Anvi.
"How long?"
She smiled.
"Long enough."
Rudra narrowed his eyes.
"How long is long enough?"
"Exactly that long."
"Sister Anvi."
She laughed.
Rudra shook his head.
There were times when her behaviour was almost indistinguishable from an ordinary elder sister.
And somehow, Rudra found comfort in that.
Their lessons continued as the days passed.
Sister Anvi taught him how to identify plants and determine whether they were healthy. She showed him how to prepare simple healing pastes and mixtures and how to recognise when a wound required treatment and when the body simply needed time and rest.
But she also taught him when not to interfere.
Not every plant should be harvested simply because it possessed medicinal value. Some were rare. Some were still growing. Some existed in places where their presence was necessary for the balance of the surrounding environment.
Rudra could not become the protector of a forest by taking everything useful from it.
He had to learn restraint.
To receive from nature without exploiting it.
To understand its value without believing he owned it.
That became one of the greatest lessons Sister Anvi gave him.
As their training came to an end one day, they walked slowly through the forest together.
"So," Sister Anvi asked, "what did you learn today?"
Rudra thought for a moment.
"Ashwagandha can be prepared through Kshirapaka. Tulsi through Svarasa and Brahmi through Ghrita."
Sister Anvi stared at him.
Rudra smiled.
"And?"
He sighed.
"A plant is more than its name."
Her expression softened.
"Good."
"And nature gives, but I should learn how to receive without taking more than I need."
"Very good."
Rudra remained quiet for another moment.
"And never call you Devi Anvi."
Sister Anvi immediately began laughing.
"I knew that was coming."
"You were waiting for it."
"I was."
Rudra shook his head.
"I still do not understand why it is so important."
Her laughter faded into a warm smile.
She placed an arm gently around his shoulder as they continued walking.
"Because I am your sister, Rudra."
He looked towards her.
"For the rest of the world, I may be Devi Anvi."
Her expression became gentler.
"But for you..."
She pulled him slightly closer.
"I want to be Sister Anvi."
Rudra looked ahead again.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then a small smile appeared upon his face.
"Alright."
"Alright?"
He sighed.
"Yes, Sister Anvi."
She smiled brightly.
And together, they continued walking beneath the ancient trees.
Rudra's training that day had not made him stronger in the way Karthikeya's lessons had. It had not increased the power of his fire, nor had it revealed some hidden ability within his body.
But it had given him something he would need just as much.
The ability to understand what he wished to protect.
For one day, Rudra's path would lead him towards the forests and realms of nature. He would become their guide and protector, responsible not merely for the great and powerful creatures that lived within them, but for every form of life that depended upon the balance of those worlds.
And Rudra was beginning to understand that a protector did not begin by fighting for something.
First...
He had to understand it.