Chapter 178: Ruins of Nalanda
As the morning sun came through the cottage windows, Amira slowly opened her eyes, still feeling the weight of sleep. Her body felt weak, but she remembered being brought here after a snake bite. She looked at the small table nearby, where herbs were scattered around. The smell of fresh and dried plants filled the air. A bandage covered her hand, and she felt the coolness of a herbal paste on the wound. Whoever treated her seemed to know what they were doing.
The world outside seemed alive. The soft sound of birds chirping mingled with the faint rustle of sweeping dust on the ground. But there was an eerie stillness inside the room; no one was nearby.
Driven by curiosity, Amira sat up and stepped outside to look for Raamya. The sight that greeted her took her breath away. The village courtyard was full of life, with the morning sunlight highlighting a scene unlike any she had seen before.
In the center, several people-both young and old, were doing yoga. Their movements were smooth and coordinated, and they wore the simple robes of Buddhist monks. It was a peaceful sight, so different from the strict world she knew. To the left, an old monk sat cross-legged, teaching a small group of children. The kids listened closely, eager to learn.
On the right, villagers were shaping clay pots, their hands moving expertly over the soft clay. The way they worked looked almost like a calm, thoughtful ritual. The whole village seemed to move in harmony, with work and learning happening side by side, untouched by the social ranks Amira was used to.
As she watched, one of the soldiers standing nearby noticed her. He turned and greeted, "Good morning, Your Highness. Is there anything we can assist you with? It’s advised that you remain here for the time being."
Before Amira could respond, a calm voice interrupted.
"That won’t be necessary, soldier. I can see she’s doing well now."
Amira turned toward the voice. A young woman, around twenty, was approaching. She wore the same monk robes as many others and held a broom, likely having just been sweeping the ground.
Amira looked at her closely. "Who are you?"
The young woman smiled. "I am Vaishali, a new disciple." She gestured around the village entrance. "If you’re wondering about your people, they’ve set up camp just outside the village. The Devi (royal lady) who brought you here is in talks with our Sarpanch."
This left Amira with a strange feeling. These people were different. They didn’t seem to care much for the usual rules of rank or status. Though Vaishali knew who Amira was, there was no disrespect, but also no over-the-top reverence. Her tone was humble and direct, as though royalty didn’t matter much here.