As I slowly emerge from the depths of sleep, my senses come alive with the soft caress of the morning sunlight filtering through the curtains. The air is crisp and filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, carrying whispers of far-off adventures on the wind. I stretch my limbs and feel the warmth of the day beckoning me to rise and embrace the endless possibilities that lie ahead.

I made my way to the bathroom, my bare feet padding softly against the floor. With a yawn, I reached for my toothbrush and toothpaste, beginning my morning ritual of brushing my teeth. After rinsing my mouth, I turned on the shower, feeling the warm water cascade over my skin. The steam filled the bathroom, enveloping me in a comforting embrace. As I lathered up my hair with my favorite shampoo, the scent of lavender filled the air, transporting me to a serene oasis. As I rinsed off the suds, I couldn't help but feel grateful for these moments of solitude in the early hours of the day. The gentle hum of the water, the soft glow of the morning light—it was a peaceful start to a brand new day. Feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, I stepped out of the shower, ready to tackle whatever the day had in store for me. With a smile on my face, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and set out to conquer the world, one step at a time.

I went into the kitchen and I turned my attention to the stove, where a pan awaited me. I crack a couple of eggs into the pan, relishing the satisfying sizzle as they hit the hot surface. As the eggs cook, I chop up some vibrant red peppers and green spinach, adding them to the mix for a burst of color and flavor. The smell of cooking eggs and vegetables fills the kitchen, making my stomach growl in anticipation.

Soon enough the others came in. Darsh woke up the others. Vihaan herded the cattle. Priya got herself ready and then helped Saraswati get ready. The others just came to me and started eating breakfast.

I decided to go call Hari when you saw Devansh standing in the shadow of your younger brother, Hari. The first son of Mehra's. The air was thickened with tension. Devansh's piercing gaze bears down on Hari, a predator sizing up its prey. I feel the weight of his words like a physical blow, each cutting remark plunging deep into your and your brother's fragile heart. The air is heavy with the scent of impending doom, the silence broken only by the sound of his cruel laughter. Hari shrinks further into himself, a small and insignificant figure in Devansh's overpowering presence. Devansh's words sting like a relentless swarm of bees, leaving Hari helpless and vulnerable in Devansh's merciless grasp.

"What in the world is going on, Deva? Go get ready for school." Rushita came in and said. "What why are still standing there, your brats?" She said referring to me and Hari.

I quickly grabbed Hari's arm and shouted back at Rushita, "Sorry, we will be faster next time." At the corner of my eye, I saw Devansh smirking at me.

After going to the kitchen, I quickly looked at Hari and wiped his tears. "Why, Why does he hate me? Why does he get the power?" Hari sniffed.

"Hey, you know that he only gets the power because Rushita is alive. If Keya was still here, you know, she would have stood up for us. Or even Amma. Nanna will be back soon so the torture will be over soon okay? Now go to school, and after you come back, you will tell me what happened, Okay." I said comfortingly. He just hugged me back for a while while I soothed him.

"Thanks, Akka," Hari said. "I'll go to school," he said before running to Vihaan and the others who were waiting for Hari to come.

"Bye Akka," they all said synchronized before walking to school.

"Bye see you guys later," I whispered.

***

As I stepped out of my humble abode, the morning sun greeted me with its warm embrace, casting a golden glow over the vast expanse of the land. The chirping of birds filled the air, creating a symphony of nature's melodies that accompanied me on my journey. Beside me, A few fellow village women walked with their steady pace, their weathered hands clutching a worn bucket or a pot, a testament to the countless trips we had made to the well over the years. The path stretched out before us, winding through fields of vibrant green crops and blooming wildflowers.

The distant sounds of livestock could be heard, adding to the tranquil ambiance of the peaceful morning. As we walked, the dust kicked up by our footsteps danced in the sunlight, creating a shimmering trail behind us. With each step, the gurukul on the horizon grew closer, its stone structure standing tall and proud against the backdrop of the clear blue sky. The anticipation of reaching our destination filled me with a sense of purpose, knowing that soon we would quench our thirst with the cool, refreshing water drawn from its depths.

As we approached the ancient stone fountain in the heart of the village, the melodic sound of women's voices filled the air. The sun was beginning to rise above the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the scene before me. A group of women, dressed in vibrant colored saris, stood around the fountain, their laughter and chatter creating a joyful symphony. Each one of us wielded a pot, and we gracefully dipped it into the clear, cool water and pulled it back up with ease. The rhythmic clinking of the pots against the edges of the fountain created a soothing background rhythm to our animated conversation. Their voices carried a sense of familiarity and comfort, as if the act of drawing water from the fountain was not just a chore, but a cherished ritual that bound them together. I smiled as they exchanged stories and shared laughter, their faces illuminated by the soft evening light. But the smile quickly faded, as I remembered what happened last night, I had been thinking about it for a long time but I was nervous. Because if I was not careful and let something slip I and my family would be in danger.

As I mulled over what happened last night, I felt a sense of peace wash over me as I observed us, united by a simple task and a shared bond. There were other women also who were bathing, gracefully in the fountain. They were the Gurukul women who lived there and lived to serve the gods and learn mantras and sastharas. They learn things from all over the place from cooking to learning healing properties. This Gurukul was famous because it was a Gurukul only for women. Women from all over the place came here to learn from Acharya Gayatri. She owned the place.

I was twelve when I left school and started doing the chores in the house. I always felt a connection to the Gurukul. Despite never learning from here, I feel a deep connection to Gurukul, as if a part of my soul is intertwined with its rich history and esteemed reputation. It's as if this place holds a piece of my heart, beckoning me to embrace its legacy and make it my own.

As I left the serene fountain, the sun setting before me cast a warm glow over the landscape. The sound of water trickling from the fountain still lingered in my ears, a peaceful melody that accompanied me on my journey home. With each step, I felt the weight of the two pots of water I carried, their cool surfaces comforting against my skin. The path ahead was familiar, lined with blooming flowers and tall trees that swayed gently in the evening breeze.

The sun's golden rays danced on the surface of the water in the pots, creating a mesmerizing reflection that seemed to beckon me forward. I couldn't help but smile as I thought of the plants in my garden that would soon benefit from this precious resource. The rhythmic swaying of the pots as I walked created a soothing rhythm, a gentle reminder of the abundance of nature that surrounded me. As I approached my home, the scent of arati wafted through the air, mingling with the fragrance of the flowers that adorned my doorstep. With a sense of contentment, I set the pots down, their contents now ready to nourish. Before I picked up another two empty pots and got ready to go to the fountain and back home again.

***

As the night approached, I quickly wore a Kutra and dupatta. As I was preparing to "sleep", Vihaan asked, "Akka why are were in such a nice kurta even in sleeping."

"It is none of your business." I replied back to him."

After a while of pretending to sleep, it was finally 12. Then I tiptoed across the creaky wooden floor, the moonlight filtering through the curtains illuminated my path like a spotlight. My heart raced with anticipation, every nerve in my body tingling with excitement and fear. The soft rustle of my silk kurta echoed in the stillness of the night, a stark contrast to the pounding of my pulse in my ears. I paused at the doorway, glancing back at the familiar room that had been my sanctuary for so long. The shadows danced on the walls like silent observers, casting eerie shapes that seemed to mock my daring escape. With a steadying breath, I pushed open the window and felt the cool night air brush against my skin. The world outside seemed to hold its breath, waiting for me to take that final leap into the darkness. As I climbed out onto the ivy-covered trellis, my heart soaring with exhilaration, I knew that this clandestine rendezvous would be an important part of my life forever.

There he was standing against a tree while eating an apple. Then he walked away. As I quietly trailed behind my prince, the dense forest enveloped us in an eerie silence, broken only by the rustling of leaves under our feet. Shafts of moonlight filtered through the thick canopy above, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. The man ahead moved with purpose, his figure disappearing intermittently amidst the gnarled trees and twisted vines. The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and pine, adding to the sense of foreboding that hung in the atmosphere. "What should I call you?" I called out, my voice barely above a whisper, but the man didn't respond. I knew very well that he was called the Archer. His steady pace never faltered as he navigated the labyrinth of the forest with ease. My heart raced with a mixture of fear and curiosity, unsure of what lay ahead on this mysterious journey. Finally, as we emerged into a small clearing, the man turned to face me, his expression unreadable. "The Archer," he said cryptically, before disappearing into the shadows once more. And with that enigmatic statement hanging in the air, I knew that my adventures had only just begun.

He led me into a tent and said, "Fill this form out."

I whispered, "I can't read." Embarrassment filled my blood. He then asked questions about my personal life and I answered them and he filled the form out for me.

"So, you are now a part of our club. Which is called The Surush." He told me.

"So do I get to choose my name?" I asked and at his raised eye, I quickly clarified, "Code name."

"You knew that I was Archer but you still ask me what you should call me And you also know the answer to your question. So tell me what is code name." He said.

"Is the Dancer taken?" I asked. He just smiled.

"Now, that your code name chosen you can not tell anyone about your real name no one unless I agree to it. Okay. Now we will meet the people who can give you orders." He said.

"Okay," I murmured. Then he gave me a command to stay here while he went out. After a while, he came back with 3 people.

I shyly waved while one scrunted me, one was amused while another was giving me a cold look.

"What is happening in here?" said the man who assessing me.

Ekaansh said, "She is going to be the leader of Surush."

"Wait what, are you out of your mind Aarush." said, the woman who glared at me.

"No, I am not. Since we are popular within this kingdom and she is not so she can pretend to be the leader while we give the orders." Then Ekaansh proceeded to introduce me to the people in the room. Turns out the woman was the Gamer, The one who was amused was the Teacher and the other was the Swift.

"Don't even try disagreeing with him." The Teacher said to the Swift.

"Hey, I am the Teacher and I will show you around. I will let meet the others."

____________

Akka - Older Sister

Annaya/Anna - Older Brother

Celli - Little Sister

Tammudu - Little Brother

Atta - Aunt

Amma - Mom

Nana - Father

(These are all Telugu)

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