Arjun led them through the sprawling corridors of the palace, the faint glow of oil lamps casting flickering shadows on the walls. As they moved further into the west wing, the grandeur they had seen in the main halls began to fade. While still impressive, the area seemed less polished. The walls bore faint cracks, the paint slightly faded in places, and the furniture, though sturdy, lacked the intricate carvings and gilding of the royal chambers.
They entered a modest yet spacious room, with simple wooden beds neatly arranged against the walls. A sturdy table sat in the center, accompanied by mismatched chairs. The windows, though smaller than those in the grand halls, still offered a view of the palace gardens, albeit partially obstructed by climbing ivy.
The five exchanged wary glances, their expressions a mix of curiosity and disbelief. Arjun noticed and crossed his arms, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"What did you expect, a luxury mansion?" he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. "This is what you get for black magic and sorcery."
Jiayi raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "We've told you a hundred times-it wasn't black magic."
"And I've told you," Arjun shot back, "it's hard to believe anything else when the sky turns red, the rivers rage, and you appear out of nowhere."
"Still," Yohan muttered, looking around, "for a palace, this feels... basic."
Arjun shrugged. "This wing isn't for royalty. It's practical. You should count yourselves lucky. The dungeon wasn't exactly cozy, was it?"
Apsara walked over to one of the windows, her fingers brushing the sill. The faint hum of palace activity reached her ears, but it felt distant, like a world they didn't belong to. She turned to Arjun, her expression a mix of weariness and determination.
"So, what now? You've given us a roof over our heads. What's the next step?"
Arjun folded his arms, the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes. "General Bhishma wants you at the palace training arena by evening, four sharp." His voice was firm, carrying the weight of expectation.
"Training arena?" Jiayi echoed, her brow furrowing.
"Yes," Arjun replied, his tone leaving no room for debate. "He will instruct you on what you must do. And let me warn you-you'll have to show more than the little performance you managed in the dungeon. Whatever you did to prove yourselves won't be enough this time."
Apsara felt a shiver run down her spine, though she didn't let it show. "More?" she asked carefully, tilting her head.
Arjun's gaze hardened slightly. "Bhishma doesn't trust easily. You'll need to prove yourselves capable-of what, I don't know. That's for him to decide. All I'm saying is, don't expect this to be easy."
Yohan leaned against the wall, scoffing. "Great. More hoops to jump through. What's next, wrestling an elephant?"
Arjun raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "If Bhishma says so, you will. And you'll be wise not to underestimate him."
Vasuda let out a low whistle, his usual sarcasm laced with genuine concern. "Sounds like a fun way to spend an evening."
Arjun straightened up, brushing off their remarks. "You'll find out soon enough. Be ready by four. You've been warned."
He turned to leave, but paused in the doorway, glancing back at them. "And don't be late. Bhishma doesn't tolerate tardiness." Without another word, he disappeared into the corridor.
The group exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of Arjun's words settling heavily on their shoulders.
Maya flopped onto one of the beds, letting out a groan. "I hate this already."
YOU ARE READING
Liars, Deaths, Scales & The Sword Of Lanka
Historical Fiction"You can never alter time, no matter what change you make, what's done is done! There is no changing what has occured, Apsara" He said to the broken lady, who was on the black marble floor. "You thought, you could change the fate of the time....not...
