"Whispers of the Lost Monastery"
Ardhu and Mina raced through the forest until the sounds of pursuit faded behind the thick wall of trees. By dusk, they reached the foothills near Varendra, where ruins of ancient monasteries lay hidden beneath vines and moss. Locals called the place The Whispering Hills — every traveler claimed the wind carried voices of scholars long gone.
Mina guided Ardhu through a narrow stone passage.
"This way. Devapala said the Chronicle must be taken to the Monastery of Twelve Pillars. Only the elders there can decode its deeper teachings."
Ardhu had heard legends of the place — a sanctuary where astronomers, healers, and philosophers once worked together. No conqueror had ever found it.
After hours of climbing, the path opened to a quiet plateau. Moonlight revealed broken pillars, scattered carvings, and murals faded by time. But the air held a strange calm, as if the place was waiting for them.
A young monk stepped out from the shadows. "We have been expecting you."
He led them into a chamber beneath the ruins. Lamps flickered, illuminating elders seated in a circle. At the center lay scrolls, crystals, and star charts. The moment Ardhu placed the Chronicle among them, the elders bowed deeply.
"You've brought back more than knowledge," one elder said. "You have brought hope."
But their relief was short-lived.
A scout hurried in. "The enemy has crossed the river. They know someone is protecting the Chronicle. They're heading toward the hills."
Silence fell.
Mina looked at the elders. "What do we do now?"
The eldest among them rose slowly. "If this age of learning is to survive, we cannot hide forever. We must protect the Chronicle — and prepare to move. The next refuge lies in the east."
He placed a hand on Ardhu's shoulder.
"Your journey is far from over. Bengal's future walks with you now."
Outside, thunder rolled across the horizon — a warning of the battles yet to come.