Anal stood frozen, the practice sword feeling suddenly heavy and useless in his hand. The Guru knew. He had known all along. The feeling of being adrift in a conspiracy was now compounded by a chilling sense of transparency, as if his entire world was a stage and others were merely waiting for him to play his part.
"You... know about him?" Anal asked, his voice hoarse from exertion and shock.
Guru Vrish stepped fully into the moonlight, his serene face looking aged and weary. "I know of the shadows that have circled this Gurukul since the day you and Prince Neel arrived. I know of the Serpent's Kiss daggers they carry. And I have known of the vow sworn by the Prince of Neelgarh to protect the heir of Tejgarh."
Each statement was a hammer blow, shattering the last remnants of Anal's understanding. "Why?" The single word was a plea. "Why is this happening? Why me?"
The Guru gestured to a stone bench nearby. Anal, his legs feeling weak, numbly followed and sat. "This is not a burden of your making, Prince Anal. It is a legacy. A curse, some would say, woven generations ago when the Fire and Water clans first clashed. A prophecy was spoken then—that a Fire Prince would be born with the power to either unite the elements in harmony or shatter the world into eternal war."
He looked at Anal, his gaze piercing. "You are that prince. Your power is not merely affinity; it is a dormant inferno. And there are those, like the man you saw tonight, who serve a master who wishes to fan that inferno into a conflagration. They wish to 'win' you, to twist your destiny towards destruction."
Anal's head spun. "And Neel? His vow..."
"Was made to me," Guru Vrish said softly. "After his father discovered spies from this same faction within his own court. King Vyomesh, despite his enmity with your father, feared the prophecy's darker outcome. He sent Neel here, not just for education, but for a sacred purpose: to be your shield. To be a friend who could cool your flames with his water nature, and a guardian who would stand against the shadows seeking to manipulate you."
A friend. The word was a bitter mockery. "He is no friend. It is all a lie. A duty."
"Is it?" Guru Vrish asked, his tone gentle yet probing. "Tell me, before you learned of this, did his presence not challenge you? Did it not force you to look beyond your own rigid boundaries? A shield does not merely block; it also defines the space it protects. Neel's duty has shaped your environment, yes. But his actions, his spirit... were those a lie?"
Anal fell silent. He remembered the frustration, the anger, but also the strange, magnetic pull, the unspoken connection that had haunted him from the first day. He thought of Neel stepping in front of that dagger, placing himself in harm's way. Was that merely duty? Or was it something more?
"He called me a liability," Anal muttered, the sting of the word fresh.
"To that man, you are," the Guru conceded. "Neel was protecting you in the only way he could in that moment—by downplaying your significance and asserting his control. He was playing his part, just as he has been trained to do. It is a heavy burden for one so young, to wear a mask even when it pushes away the one he is sworn to protect."
The Guru's words were slowly reframing the entire night, painting Neel not as a deceiver, but as a prisoner of his own oath. The anger in Anal's heart began to cool, replaced by a confusing whirlpool of pity, understanding, and a dawning, terrifying responsibility.
"What do I do now?" Anal asked, the lost prince in his voice unmistakable.
"You must learn," Guru Vrish said, his voice firm. "You must train, not just your body, but your spirit. You must gain control over the power within you before others can seize it. And you must decide what you will build with it." He placed a hand on Anal's shoulder. "And you must understand this: Neel's path is bound to yours. You can choose to see him as a jailer, or you can choose to see him as the only other person in this world who understands the weight you both carry."
He stood, his message delivered. "The world of simple rules is behind you now, Prince Anal. You have stepped into the world of difficult truths. Rest. Tomorrow, your true training begins."
The Guru left him alone on the bench, the moon his only companion. Anal looked down at his hands—hands that supposedly held the power to shape destinies. He thought of Neel, the boy with the weight of a kingdom and a secret vow on his shoulders, who had just risked exposing everything to save him from a dagger in the dark.
He stood up and walked slowly back towards the student quarters. His path took him past the wing where the princes of Neelgarh resided. He saw a sliver of light under one door. He stopped, his conflicting emotions a war inside him. He didn't knock. He didn't know what to say.
But as he stood there, he saw the shadow of someone move across the light from within. It paused, as if sensing a presence on the other side. For a long minute, they stood there, prince and guardian, separated only by a slab of wood, bound by a destiny neither had chosen.
Anal finally turned away and walked to his room, but as he closed his door, he made a decision. Tomorrow, he would not confront Neel with accusations. He would look at him, truly look at him, and search for the boy beneath the vow. He fell into a fitful sleep, his dreams haunted not by stormy skies and swords, but by a single, lingering question: if the vow was the chain that bound them, what, then, was the connection he had felt in their very first glance?
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