Just one year left.
Arjun was twenty-one years old.
For the past ten years, he had been waiting for that day.
He lived in a small gurukul high in the mountains, far from any town.
The air was always cold, and the place was surrounded by silence—broken only by the chirping of birds or the laughter of students.
It wasn't a famous gurukul.
It wasn't even large.
Because of the freezing weather and its remote location, few chose to train here.
Yet despite that, the gurukul still had its share of students—those who came searching for knowledge, not comfort.
This gurukul existed to teach Vaidya, the art of healing.
But at this hour, Arjun wasn't studying herbs or chanting mantras.
He was training with a Dhanush—his bow.
Why would a healer need to train in combat?
Even Arjun himself couldn't answer that question.
As he drew the bowstring, tension hummed softly in the cold air.
His breath steadied, his senses sharpened.
Just as he was about to release the arrow, a sudden movement crossed his vision.
Someone jumped in front of him.
It was a girl.
Subha.
She looked to be around his age, her long hair dancing in the mountain wind.
Arjun relaxed his grip and lowered the bow, letting out a quiet sigh.
Despite himself, a faint smile appeared on his face.
Subha crossed her arms and frowned.
"Again? Training here at midnight?" she said.
"Aren't you afraid you'll fall off the cliff one day?"
They stood on a narrow platform slightly below the mountain's peak, about a twenty-minute walk from the main gurukul.
Arjun often came here at night to sharpen his senses, shooting at small animals hidden by darkness.
He replied calmly,
"You know it's not easy to manage healing studies and combat training together."
Subha raised an eyebrow.
"But aren't you considered a genius with the Dhanush?"
Arjun chuckled softly.
"Genius is too big a word. I'm just a little good at it," he said, then added lightly,
"says the girl who's been called a genius in Vaidya since childhood."
Subha blushed faintly and turned her face away.
"You never told me why you train for combat," she said, trying to change the topic.
"Isn't your father—"
She didn't finish.
Arjun staggered.
The bow slipped from his hand as his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the stone ground.
Subha's heart skipped a beat.
"Arjun!"
She rushed to him, catching him before his head struck the stone.
His body was limp—completely unconscious. Panic rose in her chest, but she didn't hesitate.
She hoisted him onto her back and began climbing uphill.
Her breath grew uneven.
Her legs trembled.
Grinding her teeth, she pressed her palms together and began chanting softly.
Her fingers formed precise mudras, and a faint blue light surrounded her body.
Strength surged through her limbs, and she ran across the rocky path toward the gurukul's main hall.
When she arrived, she laid Arjun down and immediately bowed before her Guru, touching his feet.
"Guruji," she said, struggling to catch her breath,
"it happened again."
The Guru's gaze fell on Arjun's unconscious form, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"This is the fourth time this month, isn't it?"
Subha nodded.
"Yes, Guruji. Is it because of the side effects of training with multiple Astras?"
The old man remained silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was calm—but heavy.
"Training two Astras of different natures is nearly impossible. The consequences can be severe… even fatal."
Subha's breath caught.
"However," he continued, "because Arjun has been given a protective mantra, that is not the cause of his fainting."
She looked up sharply.
"Then why—?"
"The true reason," the Guru said, his gaze lingering on Arjun, "is something you must ask him yourself."
Subha nodded quietly and moved to sit beside Arjun's bed.
Even in sleep, his face was calm. Small cuts and bruises marked his cheeks—evidence of relentless training.
Her thoughts drifted to the past.
Arjun had once been clumsy, always relying on her help. They had grown up together. She was his only friend—he had no one else his age.
Then she had gone away for a short journey.
When she returned, the boy she knew was gone.
His eyes had grown colder.
His voice quieter.
The same boy who once hated training now spent sleepless nights practicing with his bow.
The memory of their reunion still hurt her chest.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Arjun suddenly opened his eyes and sat up.
"You should rest, Subha," he said softly. "It's already past midnight."
A few days later, Subha saw Arjun leaving the gurukul early in the morning.
Younger students were heading toward the forest to collect herbs, their laughter echoing faintly through the valley.
Arjun and Subha no longer joined them—they were senior disciples now.
Most of their old batchmates had already been transferred elsewhere.
Subha had chosen to stay.
Because of him.
As for why Arjun stayed—no one knew.
Not even Arjun himself.
But perhaps his Guru knew.
He left every day to train in combat with his Guru.
Usually, Subha stayed behind to focus on her healing studies.
But today, something in her heart urged her to follow him.
She moved quietly through the trees, keeping her presence hidden.
Before she could take another step, Arjun stopped.
"You can come out," he said calmly. "There's no need to sneak."
Subha froze, then stepped out awkwardly.
"How did you know?" she asked.
Arjun smirked.
"If I can't sense that, then my nine years of training would be meaningless."
They walked side by side along a narrow path covered in tall grass.
The wind grew colder.
Subha's eyes turned toward him.
"Tell me the truth, Arjun," she said softly. "Why do you keep fainting?"
They stopped.
The wind howled louder.
Arjun met her gaze.
"To be honest," he said, "I don't know. My Guru told me I'll understand everything next year." He paused. "Will you stay with me until then?"
Without hesitation, Subha smiled.
"Of course. I'll stay with you until you choose someone else to marry."
Both of them turned away, faces warm, the silence suddenly awkward.
To break it, Arjun spoke.
"I'm almost done mastering my Dhatu Astra."
Subha's eyes widened.
"You mastered two Astras of different properties? Can you show me?"
He smiled faintly.
He drew his Dhanush.
Wind gathered, forming a glowing arrow.
When he released it, the arrow split midair into several others, striking multiple fruits at once.
Subha clapped in amazement.
"How did it multiply?" she asked. "Isn't Dhatu Astra meant only for controlling elements?"
"It's fused with Banastra," Arjun replied. "A combination."
Her voice softened.
"To have even one Astra is rare… and you have a fused one."
"Lucky," Arjun murmured.
They soon reached a rocky plateau where an elderly man stood waiting.
Arjun immediately bowed and touched his feet.
Subha followed.
"Your training ends today," the Guru said. "I have given you all the knowledge you desired."
"Thank you, Guruji."
"Remember our promise."
"I will."
The Guru's voice deepened.
"You must never kill anyone—no matter what happens. That is your Dharma as a Vaidya."
Arjun opened his mouth to reply—
But the Guru vanished.
Only his voice lingered in the cold air.
"Remember, Arjun. If you ever kill… there will be no future for you."