The moons of Dhara-Loka drifted through the sky like slow-turning wheels of silver, and with every passing week, the triplets grew from tiny wanderers into lively whirlwinds of warmth. From two years and three months to two years and seven months, their days in House Vyomtara unfurled like petals opening to the sun — soft, bright, messy, and full of life.
Spring entered the manor quietly one morning, brushing the white corridors with golden light. Aditya was the first to wake, as always, stretching like a little lion cub with his silver hair falling messily over his face. He wriggled out of the blanket fortress they had built the previous night, knocking down a pillow tower and announcing himself awake with an enthusiastic, "I'm up!"
Sasi stirred next, curled around a plush cloud toy, mumbling something about "flying sheep not listening." His silver lashes fluttered as he kept the toy in a tight hug, unwilling to leave the remnants of his dream.
Aryan was already awake, sitting quietly as if the dawn had waited for him. He held a small picture book on his lap, watching dust motes float in a sunbeam. To him, they looked like tiny stars only he could command, and he lifted his hand as though he were tracing constellations in midair.
Their mornings were always noisy after that. Three sets of small feet pattered across polished floors, echoing through the warm halls of House Vyomtara. Duchess Elaria tried her best to feed the three of them, but feeding the triplets was more like attempting diplomacy with three kingdoms at war. Aditya refused to sit still. Sasi hummed songs at the spoon. Aryan would stare at the bowl thoughtfully, as though trying to decode its secrets.
Breakfast was chaos. But it was a gentle chaos — the kind that made the manor feel alive.
As the weeks passed into their two years and four months, the triplets entered what the elders of the family called the "question storm." No one was spared.
"Why does soup get hot?" Aditya asked one day, poking his bowl suspiciously.
"Why do clouds not fall down?" Sasi wondered, staring at the sky as if expecting it to answer.
"Why does grandfather snore loud like thunder?" Aryan questioned softly, tilting his head as if he had discovered a hidden truth.
Achintya almost dropped his teacup."Because the universe enjoys testing me," he muttered.
Elaria laughed behind her hand. Sarvani claimed it was karma. Duchess Elaria said this phase was beautiful. Achintya said it was dangerous.
Every day, the children dove into a different curiosity. They chased glowing insects in the garden until twilight. They stared at the pond, trying to decide whether the sky was hiding inside it. They sat around ancient clocks, listening to their ticking as though hearing time breathe.
Aryan observed quietly, storing each answer in his little mind like sacred scriptures.Sasi imitated every sound he heard, even the rustling of leaves.Aditya attempted to touch everything he had been told not to touch — simply because it was forbidden.
House Vyomtara was never silent, but no one wished it to be.
At two years and five months, the family decided on a small outing to the edge of Vyotara Woods. The air was cool, and the forest shimmered with the early glow of summer. The triplets held hands — Aditya on the left, Sasi in the middle, Aryan on the right — walking like tiny explorers embarking on a grand quest.
They stopped to collect little treasures the forest gifted them. Pebbles shaped like moons. Leaves curled into spirals. A round fruit that Aditya immediately attempted to bite until Sasi shouted in alarm.
"Adi! No! That's not food!"
Aryan simply stared at a silver butterfly that landed gently on his hand. It fluttered its wings twice, as if greeting him. It did not fly away. For a moment, even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Their laughter followed them deeper into the woods, echoing between towering trees and sunlight-dusted grass.
A month later came the rise of their little rivalries. At two years and six months, the triplets became competitive in the most dramatic ways possible. They raced through the halls, argued about who could stack blocks higher, and held singing contests that could be heard across the manor.
Sasi always won the singing. His voice was soft, clear, and full of joy.
Aditya always won running. His feet were lightning, and his energy boundless.
Aryan won... by existing. Calmly, quietly, like a tiny emperor who needed no competition.
One evening, the three of them attempted to race up the carpeted stairs. It was a flawless plan for exactly three seconds — until Aditya stumbled on the third step. Sasi tripped over Aditya. Aryan, attempting to help both brothers, was dragged down with them.
Three thuds.Three cries of betrayal.Three tiny bodies tangled in a heap.
Elaria rushed forward and picked them up one by one, kissing foreheads while they sniffled into her shoulders. Sarvani fetched a plate of warm biscuits, and by the time each child had a cookie in hand, the tragedy was forgotten.
Thus ended the Great Stair Race of Vyomtara.
By the time the triplets reached two years and seven months, the manor felt richer than ever. Their words grew clearer, their thoughts sharper, their personalities brighter.
Sasi, with gentle patience, learned how to braid Elaria's long hair, even if half the time his fingers tangled more than the strands. He would hum while he worked, creating little melodies that softened the hearts of everyone who heard them.
Aryan began drawing constellations no one had taught him. With charcoal and parchment, he sketched patterns in the night sky that matched nothing known — yet felt strangely ancient. When asked how he knew them, he simply answered, "I just remember."
Aditya, despite many warnings, continued to jump from heights he shouldn't. The maids nearly fainted every time he climbed a table. Duke Varesh personally declared all furniture became "danger zones" when Aditya was in the room. But Aditya only laughed, landing on soft cushions with triumphant pride.
Grandparents Sarvani and Achintya found endless joy in watching them grow. Each day brought new miracles — a new word, a new discovery, a new burst of laughter that chased away the quiet of winter.
Evenings often ended with the family gathered in the warm living hall. Achintya told grand tales of ancient battles. Sarvani recited gentle lullabies. Elaria wrapped the triplets in soft blankets while Varesh brought warm milk and honey.
Sometimes, the three children would fall asleep together on a single cushion, curled like little moons. Sometimes, they whispered secrets only they understood. Sometimes, Aryan pointed at stars outside the window, tracing invisible diagrams only he could see.
And though the world beyond Vyomtara continued its slow rhythm, inside these walls the future of Nirvan laughed, stumbled, learned, and grew — not yet in power, but in love.
The season turned. The months passed.And in the quiet heart of the manor,three small miracles bloomed every day.