The stone corridors of the Disciples' Hostel buzzed with faint chants and distant bells. Pralay had just been shown his room—a humble but neatly arranged stone chamber with twin cots, a wooden trunk, a single shelf, and a bronze oil lamp hanging from a hook.
His roommate, according to the warden monk, was on leave—gone back to his hometown in Kishkinda.
Just as Pralay placed his bag on the vacant bed, a head peeked in from the open doorway.
???: "New guy?"
A boy with a wide grin stepped in—slim, sharp-eyed, and clearly too curious for his own good. His robes were slightly untucked, and his forehead bore a faint red tilak that had clearly been slapped on in a hurry.
Pralay: "Uh, yeah."
Boy looked around the room, nodding as if conducting a secret inspection.
Boy: "Not bad. Your roommate's neat. That's rare. Mine's a snorer. Says he's in 'deep yogic sleep'—I say he's summoning thunder gods in his dreams."
Pralay chuckled. The warmth was refreshing after everything he'd been through.
Boy (grinning): "I knew it! I know every face in this hall—and yours, my friend, is fresh as temple prasadam.
Ravi Gupta. Dorm two rooms down.
Welcome to Nalanda, mystery boy."
Pralay (smirking faintly): "Thanks. I'm Pralay."
They shook hands.
Ravi: "So, mystery boy—no clan, no legacy, just… Pralay. You're either the bravest guy here or the most doomed."
Pralay (Confused): "Clan?"
Ravi (mock-shocked): "Wait, wait—don't tell me you don't know what that means."
Pralay: "…Should I?"
Ravi (dramatically): "By the Sacred Cow of Kurukshetra! What rock have you been meditating under?"
He plopped down on Pralay's roommate's cot like it was a storytelling bench.
Ravi (mock lecturing): "Alright, sit. Lesson one in surviving Nalanda:
Clans matter.
Your last name? That's your legacy. Your lineage. Your power potential."
Pralay (mildly sarcastic): "Sounds like a caste system with extra flair."
Ravi (grinning): "Flair? Dude, it's drama, destiny, and danger rolled into one!"
He leaned in conspiratorially.
Ravi: "You see a 'Suryavanshi'? Step aside—they're descended from literal monarchs of Ayodhya. Solar bloodline. Glows with pride and a bit too much ego.
'Maurya'? Those guys ruled Magadh ages ago—sharp minds, iron fists.
Even their scholars argue like generals."
Pralay (curious): "So everyone here is from some fancy clan?"
Ravi (waves hand): "Not all. But most. And trust me, the professors notice.
Heard someone got personally mentored by Yogi Agnivesh just because she was a descendant of the Vatsa clan."
Pralay: "And yours? Gupta?"
Ravi (grinning proudly): "Merchants, economists, shadow advisors—we've been power brokers since Chandragupta's time. We're not flashy, but we last.
Like the silver coins in your dad's old drawer—you forget about them, but they never lose value."
Pralay raised a brow, amused.
Pralay: "Sounds… strategic."
Ravi (finger raised): "Exactly!"
Then, Ravi leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper.
Ravi (serious tone): "But there's one clan you never mess with."
Pralay: "Which one?"
Ravi (grinning wide): "The Yadavas.
Oh bro… they're the real deal. Strength in their bones, battle in their blood. Descendants of Krishna and Balaram himself, or so they claim. You see a Yadava with a red tilak and a wooden spear—run."
Pralay (chuckling): "You sure you're not hyping this like some palace court drama?"
Ravi (placing a hand over heart): "Cross my chakra, it's real. There's this one Yadava dude—Anant.
He once stopped a full-blown fire ritual fight with a slap. The air stilled. Literally.
Even the wind bowed out."
Pralay laughed. Ravi was infectious, like a human bonfire.
Ravi: "You'll see. Nalanda's more than mantras and meditation.
It's also politics, pride… and power.
And when clan names echo in these halls, people listen."
Pralay (quietly): "…And if someone just really bad at their family history?"
Ravi paused for a beat, observing him more seriously now.
Then he smiled—softer, understanding.
Ravi: "Then they carve their own name.
After all, every great clan started with one person who didn't fit into any box."
He slapped Pralay on the shoulder.
Ravi (laughing): "I like you. But trust me, at Nalanda, nothing is just anything." (He flops onto the cot, arms behind his head.) "That trunk? Belonged to a monk who meditated for seven years straight. They say his shadow still lingers in the wood."
Pralay (raising a brow): "And you're sleeping on his bed because…?"
Ravi (grinning): "Free protection. Ghosts hate snorers."
Ravi (grinning again): "Come on, mystery boy. Let's get you some campus gossip and stale sweets from the South Wing."
The disciples' hostel was a stone and timber structure shaped like a broad U, its open courtyard leading into a lush garden in the center. Twilight filtered through the leaves of Ashoka and Peepal trees planted around the lawn, and a gentle wind carried the earthy fragrance of sandalwood from nearby incense stands. Some disciples were meditating quietly beneath the trees. Others sat in small groups, discussing chakra theories or laughing about mundane chores.
Pralay looked around, taking in the well-kept pathways, lotus ponds lining the sides, and the ancient stone engravings on the dorm walls—depictions of yogis in asanas, mantras etched below their postures.
Then the tranquility was broken.
DINGGGGG—DONGGGGG.
The dorm bell rang out in a slow, melodious rhythm—low, but firm. Disciples poked their heads out of windows, conversations hushed.
Ravi: "Hear that? The Agnishamadhi Bell —means someone's about to attempt the Core Flame Chakra trial. You should be able to Pass this test to take Martial Pathyam Classes." (He lowers his voice.) "Last time, a Vatsa girl's hair turned white from the heat. Still aced it, though."
Pralay (staring at the lamp's flame): "And if you fail?"
Ravi (shrugging): "Let's just say the infirmary's always stocked with aloe vera."
One boy even shouted from an upper floor.
Random Disciple (calling out): "Ravi! Is the assembly confirmed?"
Ravi (shouting back): "Confirmed! It's happening."
Pralay (confused): "What is it now?"
Ravi (grinning): "Tomorrow morning. Just before sunrise. We've got our first assembly. Sleep early."
Pralay (raising an eyebrow): "Assembly?"
Ravi (leaning in excitedly): "The Acharya will address us."
Pralay (blinking): "Acharya?"
Ravi (with mock disbelief): "You don't know? The Acharya is the Head of Nalanda. The topmost master. He rarely speaks—but when he does? Everyone listens. Doesn't matter if you're a first-year disciple or a senior yogi. When the Acharya talks, even the trees stand still."
Pralay (glancing toward the tall central tower in the distance): The head of Nalanda…
Ravi (nodding): Exactly. The title's been passed down for centuries. Every Acharya is supposed to have awakened at least six chakras. Some say the current one—Acharya Aryabhatt—is on the verge of the seventh.
Pralay (gazing up at the stars): "So I guess we sleep early, then?"
Ravi (mock salute): "Welcome to Nalanda, my friend. Hope you're a morning person."
The crisp air of early morning clung to the stone walkways of Nalanda as the massive bell in the disciples' hostel rang thrice.
DONG... DONG... DONG...
Disciples emerged in white robes, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from their eyes, moving silently through the courtyard gardens toward the central assembly hall. The sky was still dark, just a faint orange glow touching the horizon. Rows of lamps lit the open pavilion where thousands of students gathered and sat cross-legged in silent anticipation.
Then, from the far end of the hall, a figure emerged—tall, draped in saffron robes, his staff etched with old mantras,, a long white beard flowing down to his chest, and eyes that shimmered with stillness and storm both.
It was Acharya Aryabhatt.
He walked slowly onto the marble stage, his wooden staff tapping softly on the ground. As he stood before them, the hush of the crowd deepened.
Ravi (whispering): "Bet you five silver coins he starts with 'This moment.'"
Acharya Aryabhatt (solemnly): "This moment... is not the beginning of your journey, my children. It is the turning point."
Pralay (side-eyeing Ravi): "Do you ever lose bets?"
Ravi (smug): "Only on purpose. It's a Gupta thing."
The disciples leaned forward. Even the wind seemed to still.
Acharya Aryabhatt (measured tone): "For a year or two, you have studied the scriptures, tested your bodies, shaped your breath, and polished your spirit. You have laughed and fallen. You have grown. Nalanda has been your path, your shield, and your home."
He paused, eyes sweeping across the thousands of young faces before him.
Acharya Aryabhatt (with weight): "Now... you become the seniors. The torchbearers. In two years, you shall graduate."
He pointed outward, beyond the campus walls.
Acharya Aryabhatt (firmly): "But the world beyond Nalanda is not patient. It demands strength. Wisdom. Compassion. What you carry within must light the paths of others."
He let that hang before continuing.
Acharya Aryabhatt (with a half-smile): "Some among you will become warriors. Some, healers. A few... philosophers. And every once in many generations, one walks beyond all roles."
A murmur of excitement ran through the disciples. Pralay listened, still half-lost in awe.
Acharya Aryabhatt (raising a hand): "All of our current yogis—yes, even Yogi Satya Suryavanshi himself—were once students here, when I was but a humble yogi among many."
(whispered, among the crowd)
Acharya Aryabhatt (smiling): "And yet... one of our own rose beyond these walls. A student who once sat where you now sit... a disciple like any other. Years later, he rose to become General of the Vanguard Force, protector of Aryavarta's outer frontiers."
(whispering nearby)
Disciples (muttering): "Whoa... a General? From Nalanda?"
Pralay (whispering to Ravi): "General?"
Ravi (shocked): "Are you serious? Bro, only five people hold that title in the entire nation! That's like... living legend stuff."
Random Disciple (snickering): "Why would someone spend their whole life stuck here if they had that kind of power?"
Acharya Aryabhatt (smiling, as if he heard): "Power does not always seek glory. After leading armies and shaping history... he returned."
He raised his hand reverently.
Acharya Aryabhatt (proudly): "He chose a quieter path. Today, that same man is the Dharmpal."
Pralay (curious): "Dharmpal? What's that?"
Ravi (mocking disbelief): "Oh come on—how do you not know this? How did you even get into Nalanda?"
Pralay (frowning): "Just tell me."
Ravi (grinning): "It's the title of the Librarian Head of Dharmganj—the largest library in the Bhoolok-Antar! Right here in Nalanda. It's more than just a book vault—it's a treasury of all spiritual knowledge ever recorded. And only one person gets to be its guardian."
Pralay (blinking, confused): "Wait… he was the General? And now he's a librarian?"
Ravi (grinning): "Not just a librarian, bro. The Dharmpal. You don't get it, do you?"
Pralay (frowning): "Apparently not."
Ravi (mock outrage): "Seriously? What rock did you crawl out from?"
Pralay (deadpan): "The one next to the burning monastery, probably."
Ravi (chuckling): "Okay okay, listen. The Generals of Vanguard Force are the elite—like, five of the greatest warriors in the whole nation."
Pralay: "So, big deal."
Ravi (sputtering): "Big deal? It's the second-highest post in the military! Only the Commander-in-Chief sits above the Generals! And this guy gave it up…"
Pralay: "…to shelve books?"
Ravi (waving his hand dramatically): "To safeguard the mind of the world, thank you very much! Dharmganj isn't just scrolls and manuscripts—it's sacred relics, cosmic maps, even forgotten mantra-sounds. Stuff that can melt your brain if read wrong."
Pralay (arching an eyebrow): "Sounds cheerful."
Ravi (serious for a second): "No jokes—being Dharmpal means you've mastered body, mind, and spirit. Only one in an entire generation ever qualifies. And now he's back here, guiding seekers like us."
Random Disciple (behind them): "I heard he once stopped an avalanche by reciting a mantra."
Ravi (snorting): "Please. He split the mountain in half. My uncle saw the crack—clean as a sword slash."
Acharya Aryabhatt (declaring): "Let us rise and honor Dharmpal Ahaman—hero of Aryavarta, protector of knowledge, and son of Nalanda."
The crowd stood, applauding thunderously.
But Pralay didn't move.
His breath caught.
Pralay (to himself): "Ahaman…?"
That name. His grandfather's voice echoed in his mind.
"You will search for Ahaman. He resides at the Nalanda. He will tell you what the Kalki Stone truly is.."
The applause faded in his ears. His surroundings blurred, but inside him, something turned sharply, like a compass finding north.
Pralay (whispering): "He's here…"
And for the first time since his arrival, Pralay realized—his journey at Nalanda was never meant to be ordinary.
[End of Chapter]