Kush watched the prince in the glittering Heaven Room say, "I am too poor. Give this helmet to me as alms and I will be forever indebted to your kindness."
Kush who was watching the soldier's extreme reaction felt a numbing current pass through his skull at those words. Behind the prince and the soldier, amidst the crystal heaven, light suddenly flickered. A pink, otherworldly form revealed itself for an instant. It was as if it has always been there, as part of the world, unaffected by the stream of events. But then the disturbance spoke volumes too. That this form was affected, but in ways unknown…
Why teacher? His nobility impresses you so much? But I'm just a coarse boy from the woods, why did you take me on as a student…
"No, I won't," said the coarse boy, startling both the prince and his attendant. In the dark, his secret guards raised their hackles up. They were staring angrily, not at the coarse boy, but his teacher. She was the real threat to them if they had to take the duo down.
The little prince was already having a hard time controlling his emotions since he saw the helmet and what it represented. Until now, he was still harboring some fleeting hope. This was the real reason why he roused himself the other day when his sister mentioned that the foreigners came to visit. It reminded him of the battle. Although, the battle was a foregone conclusion that his brother willingly accepted, there are always miracles…Perhaps he survived! This was the thought that woke Vajra up. It had always been in the background of his mind…only much scattered after the king traumatized him with his words. Oppressed from all sides and threatened by assassins, the little prince didn't have any means to check the status of his brother. Under such conditions, his mind couldn't wake up even if he tried. But if anyone had a chance at knowing the outcome of the battle, it was those foreigners…They had always been lurking around nearby. Surely, they would know.
And they did…only, the result was not what Vajra expected. In his mind, his brother was invincible.
"Okay…" his voice wobbled and his thin body swayed like a reed in the wind. His thoughts were getting fragmented, each line ending with him being unable to even secure his brother's remains. The entire ordeal in which he tried to save his brother came to mind, reminding him how it ended as his first big failure in life instead. He nearly fell unconscious from the shock.
Meanwhile, Kush ignored the violent looks from the guard and the clear bloodlust in the air coming from the secret bodyguards, who were unable to contain their presence.
However, if the ten year old was still scared of someone, it was his teacher. When Ashangi gave him a sharp look, he caught the prince by the shoulder and steadied him.
"Your Highness, you misunderstand," he said coolly, "I will of course not keep your brother's remains, but I will not give them to you for free either. Instead, you can let me stay with you in the royal palace for half a year and I will consider it worth the exchange. What do you think?"
"You want to follow me for half a year…" the prince said without energy.
"Yes."
"Ok."
The prince swayed gently and fell on the attendant, fainting because of the earlier shock. The moment he did so, the soldier exploded, his sharp sword manifesting in his hand instantly, "You bastard!"
Facing the deadly weapon which stopped two inches in front of his face, the ten year old did not even flinch. He paid even less attention to the exploding muscles of the thirty-something man with a vigorous tiger-like body.
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Flicking a finger on the body of the sword, he created a sharp sound which mysteriously drove the sword away as though through a subtle magnetic field. Of course, the resistance was minute and the soldier could just as easily point the sword again, but that didn't change the fact he was already trumped by a child. He couldn't maintain his attacking stance anymore.
"What are you barking for?" the boy said airily, "I am going to be a royal guest for the next six months, and you're still just going to be a servant…Mind your place."
As he was in the process of picking up the prone prince in his hands, the man didn't react to those words immediately. When he did, he replied just as rudely, "A servant to a dirty little boy like you? Dream on!"
"I'm not dirty. I'm just a little travel worn!" the dirty boy stamped his feet and yelled to the retreating attendant who was carrying the finely clad prince away.
"Just you wait!" he swore in a shrill voice, "Before I leave here, I'll make you serve as my attendant. I'm going to be king one day, you should know it's your own glory!"
Uncontrolled sniggers were heard all around in the empty room and then they disappeared too.
The boy looked in his teacher's general direction unhappily, "Teacher, why didn't you ever teach me how to be neat…!"
Appearing in front of him like a phase of the moon, his teacher said, "To impart knowledge in the woods, manners in the palace, determination in the battlefield…" Her tone was uniform, without fluctuation. As though those words were always floating in the air here and Kush just happened to chance on them.
"So this was always your teaching plan…" he sighed, saying. He suddenly felt awkward in this place. Back in the woods, although the prince's demeanor was refined, he was injured and couldn't afford to be sophisticated. He was still injured, but he could still call a room that looks like a chunk of heaven gaudy and be natural doing so. He didn't feel there was much difference between him and the prince, but now he was feeling the distance. If you question Kush on the seven sciences, the four Vedas or the sixty-four arts, he wouldn't be behind the prince that much. But ask him what type of brotherhood produced these sciences and he wouldn't know. Ask him how devotion manifests in everyday courtesy between men and he wouldn't have a clue. So while he knows the contents of the Vedas, scriptures, he doesn't know their significance in everyday Aryan life. He of course knows arts, but doesn't know what they were meant for. If they were just meant to please oneself or others, he didn't know why they must be appreciated, why and how they come to represent the cultures and people that they come from.
But all of this, the prince knew naturally. As if he was innately born with…that which connects all the dots of knowledge in Kush's head to serve a purpose. Born with etiquette. When knowledge condenses and creates the form of society, it appears as etiquette. In any age, in any society, when you are with people with grace, with etiquette, you will see your place in society's large tapestry. Be it class, be it your state of knowledge, be it attitude or leadership, efficiency and so on, these people quietly help you draw a comparison through their own faithful attributes which etiquette helps them project without falsities. This is the reason why even if you feel inferior, you do not feel any loathing towards these people. In the mirror of truth, there is nothing to be hateful about. Only if one can see the truth can one decide to improve.
Interlocking his fingers behind his head, the little boy returned to his room with a candid pose. "Teacher, I decided to get a rose petal bath…" he drawled lazily. "Clean, expensive and fragrant…what do you think?"
"You're expecting too much if you think there are so many roses to spare in the arid lands."
"Not even in the royal palace?!" the boy said aghast.
"This place is not the royal palace…" his teacher reminded him. The boy made quite the astonished face when he saw this little tower up close, saying it was 'huge and astonishing'. She really didn't know what he would think if she took him to the real palace.
Truthfully speaking, the drylands didn't have much of anything for the other Aryan nations to covet. Their location was remote, climate was harsh, the crops didn't grow properly and there was frequent draught that made this place miserable. Add to that, the desert barbarians frequently raided the border towns and cities, inflicting savage violence on the mild Aryans who were of more delicate mindset. Considering all this, the dryland nations would literally be the last on any list of an Aryan conqueror. However, they did have extraordinary architecture that didn't exist anywhere else in the world.