The Next Day.Afternoon — Upper District.
Hamsa was once again beyond the Royal District, walking through the Upper District of the capital with Garuda at his side, as they had previously agreed.
"Elder Brother," Garuda said, adjusting the sash at his waist, "I shall go to play and wander with my friends today. Will you join us, or do you have other matters to attend to?"
"I was asked by Father to inspect the army stables," Hamsa replied. "Afterward, I intend to move about the district for a time. You may go ahead."
Garuda nodded, already half-turned.
Hamsa gestured to a few guards. "Gopala, see that he is escorted well."
Gopala stepped forward with a hand to his chest. "Be at ease, Yuvraj. I shall stake my life should the need arise."
"No staking of lives," Hamsa said, voice firm. "Ensure his safety. That is sufficient."
Gopala bowed. "As you command."
The brothers parted.
Hamsa first made his way through the barracks, then to the animal stables.
The capital maintained a considerable elephant corps—around a hundred beasts housed at any given time, with space prepared for twice that number. An entire quarter of the Upper District was devoted to their care, second only in size to the residential sector.
He moved methodically through the enclosures, speaking little, observing much. From there he inspected the storehouses and supply ledgers, exchanging brief words with quartermasters.
Once satisfied, he left official matters behind.
He walked past the local temple, then the largest stepwell in the district, its descending terraces busy with quiet conversation. From there he entered the markets.
The Upper District markets were broad and orderly, with defined sections for trade. Stalls displayed fine textiles, worked metal, carved toys, spices, tools, weapons, and ornaments. The quality was high, and so were the prices. Many items cost what a common laborer might earn in weeks. Some, far more.
Though Hamsa had the means to purchase whatever he pleased, nothing held his attention long.
Eventually, he came upon an open pavilion used during festivals and special gatherings. He chose to sit there briefly.
His guards remained standing until he glanced at them.
"Rest." he said.
They obeyed.
As he sat, he ate freshly prepared jalebi and channa, still warm. And as he did, he noticed a small crowd gathered beneath a large tree near the center of the square.
Curious, he finished his meal and signaled to Naga where he would be before walking toward the gathering.
A game of Chaturanga was underway.
One glance at the board told him the match would soon conclude. A forced exchange had left one player exposed.
Moments later, the man on the left conceded. The victor allowed himself a satisfied breath.
Hamsa stepped forward.
"Will you have a game with me?"
The crowd turned.
Recognition followed swiftly. Those seated rose at once; others straightened in respect.
Hamsa's garments were finely woven, yes—but it was the turban, the jewels, and the signet ring at his hand that removed all doubt.
"Yuvraj," the victor said, startled.
"Yes," Hamsa replied evenly. "I am Hamsadeva Varman. And I have asked whether you will play."
The man bowed. "It would be an honor."
"Very well," Hamsa said, taking his seat. "Let us begin."
The pieces were arranged once more.
The match began.
One game became two. Two became several.
Hamsa won consistently.
Word spread through the small crowd. A few coins changed hands quietly. Before long, wagers were being placed openly on each match.
Then a merchant stepped forward and took a seat across from him.
The game that followed was slower. Measured. Neither rushed their pieces.
Moves were answered with equal precision. Exchanges were deliberate. Twice, Hamsa believed he had secured a favorable position—twice the merchant dissolved the advantage.
The board thinned.
In the end—
Hamsa lost.
He lifted his gaze from the pieces.
"That was well played."
The merchant laughed lightly. "You are generous, Yuvraj. I had to exert myself fully. It is the most demanding match I have yet played."
"Do not soften it," Hamsa replied. "You won. I did not."
Before the board could be reset, a man forced his way through the crowd, breath uneven. His clothes bore the marks of workshop labor—ash, oil, iron dust.
"Master—Young Master Harigupta has lodged his head within a pot."
The merchant rose at once. "What are you saying? Where is he?"
"In the workshop. The pot is narrow. We are attempting to free him. The mistress and young miss are with him."
The merchant turned to Hamsa and bowed quickly. "Forgive me, Yuvraj. I must go."
"Go," Hamsa said.
As the man departed, Hamsa rose as well.
The situation did not sound dire—but Hamsa though it might be good if he went there.
Though his line of sight had thinned during the games; only two guards stood close. He stirred his mana lightly—enough to alert the others guards without drawing attention.
Then he followed.
They walked into the industrial quarter of the upper district, where workshops stood near the military supply yards, and most suppled them as well.
Inside one such medium sized wrokshop, workers had gathered in agitation. Some held tools. Others cleared space. A few remained at their stations to prevent unattended fires.
Near the entrance sat a boy—mid-teens by build—with his head stuck inside a metal pot.
Air flowed freely. He was upright. Not in immediate danger.
An older woman—his mother, by the look of it—held him steady. A young woman—likely his elser sister—issued instructions.
"Bring soft wood and cloth from the storage room. And tools."
"Dear, I am here," the merchant said as he entered. "What happened?"
"Harigupta came with Shridevi," the older woman replied, voice composed. "He slipped near the edge and this happened."
The young woman stepped forward. "Father, I brought him here as I was bored at home. And while I spoke with the workers, he strayed too close. One of them did shout, but owing to his deafness... He fell forward. It.... it's my fault." she was almost in tears at the end.
"We shall speak of that later," the father said. "How is he?"
"He is steady," she answered turning back around. "I have instructed him not to speak. The pot is unfinished—iron dust remains inside."
"Good. Keep him calm. I will fetch a priest."
He turned—
—and halted.
"Yuvraj."
All present turned.
Hamsa stepped forward.
"Before further action is taken and you say anything, permit me to assist," he said evenly. "I am proficient with mana. The accounts you may have heard are not exaggerations."
He raised his right hand slightly. Mana gathered—controlled and felt by everyone present.
The merchant hesitated only briefly.
"If you are willing, Yuvraj… we are in your hands." the man said, though his hesitation was very clear in his tone.
"You need not doubt," Naga said quietly from beside Hamsa.
The merchant stepped aside after having a moment of thought.
Hamsa then approached. The young woman moved back at once. Guards formed a loose perimeter, allowing only the family within.
Then he began by sending a thin stream of mana into the boy.
The boy flinched at the unfamiliar sensation, but his mother tightened her hold, whispering reassurance.
Then Hamsa extended his mana into the metal.
Soon the structure started to yielded under careful pressure.
Then Hamsa's eyes shifted faintly, a pale white sheen forming over them. Only visible to the women next to him.
"So," he said softly, "tell me—was the boy deaf from birth, or did it occur later?"
The father and sister stared.
The mother answered calmly. "Later, Yuvraj. An accident some years past. The temple said the damage was too severe."
"I see."
He did not elaborate.
First, he widened the rim of the pot—gradually, without cracking the metal—until there was sufficient clearance. The boy was eased free.
Then Hamsa placed his hands lightly against either side of the boy's head.
Mana flowed again—deeper this time.
When he withdrew his hands, his eyes returned to normal.
"For a short while, he may hear nothing," Hamsa said as he looked up at the family. "In a few days, sound should return gradually. And within a few weeks, he ought to hear as clearly as if his ears were new."
The family stood motionless.
They did not know whether to believe him.
His tone had carried no flourish, no promise meant to impress. Only a simple statement of what would occur.
And yet—
They chose to believe.
Not because they were certain. Not because they fully trusted the Yuvraj's power.
But because they wished to.
Because hope, once offered plainly, is difficult to reject.
Before gratitude could swell into something excessive, Hamsa spoke.
"I shall take my leave," he said. "Observe him closely. If any difficulty arises, take him to the temple."
He paused, then removed a ring from his finger.
"Or come to the Royal District."
He extended it toward the merchant.
"This will grant you passage to request an audience."
The man received it with both hands, bowing deeply. "Yuvraj… this honor—"
"It is precaution, not favor," Hamsa replied evenly.
The mother bowed as well, still holding her son close. The young woman followed.
Formal words were exchanged. Measured. Proper.
Hamsa noted and turned to leave.
His guards fell into place beside him as he stepped back into the light of the district streets.
__________________________________
Hamsa's Chamber.
He lay stretched out on the balcony sofa, one arm resting lazily over the side. Chotu was sprawled across his lap as usual, tail flicking every now and then.
Kid, what did you do? Adi's voice echoed in his mind.
Well, the kid had his hearing damaged. To be specific, the organ at the back which has liquid inside was a bit damaged and the hair like organs above it were heavily damaged.
He scratched behind Chotu's ear absentmindedly.
So as advanced as the medical practice has advanced here, something like that is difficult to heal. You might, if you go to a specialist and the damage is minimal. But that was way too much.
And since I know the Human Anatomy much better than the medical anatomy of this world, I was able to heal the kid.
Adi was quiet for a second.
Well that aside, there is something else in your mind. Am I right?
Hamsa shifted slightly, staring out at the sky.
Yeah.
Well I saw some stuff back in that workshop that has perked my interest.
What is it?
Well, though I can't be sure, but I think I saw some steam contraptions in there.
He paused.
Also I am not explaining anything.
Adi made a smug expression.
Well no worries, I did my studies for once and I know what you are talking about.
Hamsa smirked faintly.
Good. Saves me the effort.