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Genesis of the Soul
Chapter 1: Just turned Forteen

Chapter 1: Just turned Forteen

A relentless pounding echoed through the grand halls of the mansion, the sound reverberating off the opulent walls like a thunderstorm.

With a hint of annoyance etched across her features, a woman in her forties flung open the main door, her expression one of disbelief. “You meathead, why in the world are you banging on the door like a madman?” A sense of urgency hung in the air as she caught sight of the muscular guard standing before her.

“It’s an emergency!” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with panic. “The King and Queen Maurya are arriving early.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she instinctively checked her Universal Soul Bracelet (USB). The cold metal felt heavy in her palm as the realisation hit her. Without wasting a second, she turned on her heel and dashed up the grand staircase, her feet barely making a sound against the polished floor.

The door to the Prince's bedroom stood slightly ajar, and she twisted the knob with urgency, bursting into the room. She yanked the blanket off the Forteen-year-old Prince, startling him awake. His blue eyes blinked in irritation as he glared at her. “Kamla Bai, what’s your problem?”

“They are coming!” Nanny Kamla replied, her voice almost a shout, as she lit the magical lamps that bathed the room in a warm glow. She quickly rummaged through the wardrobe, pulling out clean clothes and tossing them towards him. “Get changed quickly!”

As she scrambled about, her distress evident in her hurried movements, the Prince's curiosity piqued. He glanced at the clock mounted on the wall, the hands ticking relentlessly forward. “Who exactly is coming early in the morning to make you...?” Suddenly, the pieces clicked into place. “Don’t tell me.”

“Yes!” Nanny Kamla interrupted, her words clipped as she continued helping him dress. “Oh no, you haven’t done your birthday ritual yet!” She rushed out of the room, her voice echoing as she called back, “Come to the backyard quick; we only have half an hour left!”

As the Prince hastily donned his clothes, he made his way to the window, pulling the heavy curtains aside. The world outside was still cloaked in darkness, the moon casting a soft light over the grounds. ‘I should have slept early last night,’ he thought, rubbing his face to ward off the lingering sleepiness. ‘This is the only day they visit me, and I am utterly unprepared for it. Huff, I should stop complaining like a child already.’

He made his way down the grand staircase, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the hall. Reaching the bottom, he was met with the guard’s bow. “Happy Birthday to His Excellency Vishwa Maurya.”

With a frown, the Prince retorted, “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Vishwa instead of that gibberish?”

The guard’s expression turned apologetic. “I’m sorry sir, but I can’t.”

Ignoring the guard, Prince Vishwa stomped towards the backyard where he found Nanny Kamla awaiting him. “Kamla Bai, can you explain?” he asked, pointing toward a large log resting on the ground.

“Kid, we only have this log,” she replied briskly, handing him a hatchet. “Now, start cutting it into Forteen pieces with this.”

Vishwa took a step back, disbelief etched on his face. “You are crazy to think I will use that thing again.” He pointed at a scar on his leg, a painful reminder of a past attempt at the same task.

“Alright, then figure out a way to cut that log down,” she shot back, swinging the hatchet into the log with precision. “I have to prepare for their arrival. You have… ummm, fifteen minutes for Forteen pieces.” With that, she turned and left him to his task.

Gripping the handle of the hatchet, Vishwa hesitated before pulling it out of the log. He took a few steps back, aimed, and tossed it clumsily at the log, missing entirely.

The guard chuckled, unable to contain himself. “Your highness, how can you miss at such a short distance? It’s fortunate that you are not an awakened user or…” He emerged from the shadows, offering a deep bow. “I’m really sorry, I slipped up.”

“What's done is done. Now for an apology, cut that log down.” Vishwa ’s tone was resolute.

“But…” the guard began, only to be silenced by Vishwa ’s stern look.

“Do it.”

Seeing no way out, the guard reluctantly started chopping the log while Vishwa stretched his arms, muttering to himself. “Maybe that’s the reason they don’t visit me often.”

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After a few minutes, Vishwa gathered the Forteen pieces of wood, heading towards the kitchen while the guard returned to his post. “Nice work,” Nanny Kamla praised as she observed the collected wood.

“You know we could have used the magic artifact to brew tea without anyone knowing,” Vishwa grumbled, wishing for an easier solution.

“It’s the Mauryan tradition,” she replied firmly, her hands busy with preparations.

“Yeah, I know,” Vishwa responded, rolling his eyes. “Pass me the kettle.”

“Here, my Prince,” Nanny Kamla teased, a smirk playing on her lips as she handed him the kettle, clearly amused by his grumpiness.

Just a few moments later, the sound of horses’ hooves echoed through the grounds, signalling the arrival of the royal carriage. “They are here. You prepare and bring out the tea while I host them for the time being,” Nanny Kamla instructed, her tone brisk yet kind.

Vishwa nodded, his mind racing as he prepared the tea leaves. Thoughts clashed in his head about the implications of the royal visit.

Kamla observed him closely, her thoughts laced with concern. ‘I hope he doesn’t grasp the nature of the treatment he’s receiving from the King and Queen just yet. It’s necessary for his survival, whether he understands it or not.’

"If it weren't for you I would have killed him already." The sudden words echoed in Vishwa 's mind, causing him to freeze in his tracks just short of the dining room door. ‘Is father talking about me? Is that why they refuse to let me call them my parents? No, that can't be true; a father would not kill his son if he had not been blessed with the awakening. Surely, he must be referencing someone else.’ He reasoned with himself, shaking off the unsettling thought, and decided to knock on the door.

“Greetings to the Great King and the Beautiful Queen of the Mauryan Kingdom. Thank you both for taking the time to visit me on my birthday.” His hands trembled slightly as he poured tea into their cups, trying to hide his nervousness.

“Sit,” instructed Queen Alka, her voice firm but not unkind, as Vishwa complied and lowered himself into a chair, his gaze fixed downward.

King Mahendra took a sip from his cup and immediately hurled it to the ground in frustration. “Haven't you learnt how to make tea yet? It tastes exactly like last year’s disaster.”

Vishwa sprang to his feet, bowing deeply as he replied with an apologetic tone, “I’m sorry for ruining your taste, sir. I will try to improve it next year,” all while discreetly attempting to conceal the burnt scar on his hand from his previous mishaps in the kitchen.

“Don’t bother, you won’t have the opportunity,” King Mahendra replied coldly before turning his attention to Queen Alka. “Explain to him.”

“Vishwa endra, you are now Forteen years old; according to the laws of our Kingdom, you are required to attend a Gurukul of your choice.” Her pause hung heavily in the air. “You can forget about Magic Gurukul. Your options are either Astra Gurukul or Artifact Gurukul; you need to choose one.”

The weight of her words struck Vishwa like a thunderbolt. ‘They are sending me away, and I won’t even get to see them once a year. What do these options even mean?’ His confusion was palpable, and he glanced towards Nanny Kamla for guidance.

Nanny Kamla noticed his bewildered expression and stepped in to clarify, “Astra Gurukul is where warriors are trained, and Artifact Gurukul focuses on learning to create machines and technology.” She gestured towards her Universal Soul Bracelet (USB) that adorned her wrist.

‘Machines and technology sound intriguing; perhaps I should choose that,’ Vishwa thought, feeling a flicker of excitement. ‘But is that what they truly expect me to select? I’m just a boy who has never held a weapon in his life, apart from that hatchet. However, if I can master a weapon, I might protect them in the future and, hopefully, spend more time with them.’ With renewed conviction, he declared, “I want to study at Astra Gurukul.”

King Mahendra’s expression darkened, and he scoffed, “With that frail physique of yours?”

Vishwa lifted his chin, determination firing up within him. “Yes, I will, and I can.”

‘He possesses the same fire in his eyes as him,’ King Mahendra thought, almost resentfully impressed. Queen Alka noticed the irritation brewing in the King’s gaze and quickly interjected. “Very well, here is your admission form.” She passed an envelope to Nanny Kamla.

“He has to leave in a month!” Nanny Kamla exclaimed, her surprise evident.

“Yes, and one more thing,” Queen Alka continued, shifting her focus to Vishwa , who had lowered his head in submission. “You cannot use your Royal Title outside in any manner, as you can't use Magic. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied meekly.

Additionally, “You are not our only son; you also have a brother, Ravindra Maurya, and a newborn sister named Kriti Maurya, from the Second Queen.” She paused, glancing at King Mahendra. “Is there anything you wish to add?”

Snapping back to the present from his hated memories, King Mahendra responded curtly, “Ah, yes. Do not do anything that would tarnish the Royal Bloodline; that’s all,” before standing up and preparing to leave.

Feeling a swell of courage, Vishwa hesitated momentarily before asking, “Can I meet my siblings before I leave?”

“No!” King Mahendra’s word shot back like an arrow.

Queen Alka shot a disapproving glance at the King and added, “You can meet them after your graduation in two years.” She turned her gaze back to Nanny Kamla, “Thank you for taking care of my son, Kamla.”

Bowing her head respectfully, Nanny Kamla responded, “It is my promised duty, Your Majesty.”

As Vishwa watched their departing figures, a deep sense of loneliness washed over him. He turned to Nanny Kamla, his voice barely above a whisper, “Kamla Bai, do you think I’m useless and incapable of being loved?”

Startled by his question, Nanny Kamla immediately replied, “What are you talking about? You are the most perfect Prince I have ever seen. Just don’t lose hope; one day, you will understand.”

‘Right, you always say that, but I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not true. Maybe it’s time to explore that hidden passage I’ve been avoiding.’ He thought resolutely and ordered, “Please do not disturb me again. I am going back to sleep.”

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