Chapter 1: The Seven Instructions

When I woke up, I found myself as Arjun, captured by Uncle Dev, the master strategist.

At first, my mind whirled with confusion and disbelief. Sweat had soaked my bedsheet, sticking to my back in the muggy dawn. The taste of last night’s chai lingered bitter on my tongue. Somewhere in the distance, a conch shell echoed, blending with the caw of crows and the hum of an auto rickshaw. I blinked, trying to grasp what was dream and what was real, heart thudding as if it might break through my chest.

He gently tapped my shoulder with his peacock-feather fan and said:

Uncle Dev’s fan—just like the one from those sepia family portraits—brushed my arm, cool against my clammy skin. He smelled faintly of sandalwood, his crisp white kurta starched to perfection. His eyes, sharp and all-knowing, looked straight through me. When he spoke, his voice was soft, almost affectionate, but each word landed with the weight of a judge’s gavel.

"Arjun, I have captured you seven times, and I leave you with seven instructions:

His gaze lingered, and for a fleeting second, I remembered the old days—Uncle Dev teaching me chess on lazy afternoons, or scolding me for climbing too high in the mango tree, his love always hidden beneath a strict mask. But now that same mask was unreadable, and the warmth of memory twisted into a cold sense of betrayal.

First, do everything you can to stop the Northern Campaign.

Second, Mr. Sinha can be used, but never trusted.

Third, the Battle of Godavari was a deception—Colonel Rao is still alive.

Fourth, Rajeev and Lakshman hold the key to breaking the impasse. Take one of them to Dakshinpur.

Fifth, Dakshinpur is perilous—never reveal your identity.

Sixth, I have made a grave mistake, and my end is near. If you see me again, please light the Seven-Wick Diya.

Seventh, when the temple bell tolls eight times, the human world will become a purgatory, from which there is no return."

I swallowed hard, feeling his words settle into my bones. The gentle tap of his fan suddenly felt like both a blessing and a curse, the air charged with the weight of fate and family.