The seasons shifted softly over Vyomtara Manor as the triplets grew from two years and nine months to three years and five months old. Their footsteps grew louder, their words clearer, and their hearts—though still small—became bright little suns of emotion. With each passing week, the manor saw more laughter, more mischief… and slowly, the arrival of the first real storms between the brothers.
It began on a quiet afternoon.
Aditya wanted the wooden lion toy.Sasi wanted the same wooden lion toy.Aryan simply wanted peace—but peace never stands a chance when two tiny tempests are brewing.
Aditya grabbed it first, holding it high like a victorious warrior.Sasi pouted, eyes big and shimmering."I saw first!" he argued.
"No! Mine!" Aditya shouted, hugging the toy fiercely.
Sasi didn't back down. He pulled. Aditya pulled harder.The wooden lion flew from both their hands, hit Aryan on the forehead, and the calmest brother finally frowned.
And then something new happened—something the manor had never seen before.
Aryan pushed the toy away.Aditya yelled at Aryan for "dropping" it.Sasi yelled at Aditya for yelling at Aryan.The three of them, usually inseparable, suddenly stood in three tiny corners of the room, each refusing to look at the other.
For the first time, silence didn't feel soft.It felt cracked.
Duchess Elaria found them sitting apart—Aditya with crossed arms, Sasi with a trembling lip, Aryan staring out the window with dimmed eyes.
"What happened, my stars?" she asked gently.
No one answered.
So Duke Varesh came and sat beside them.Not towering above them—not scolding.Just sitting, his presence steady as a mountain.
"When brothers stop talking," he said quietly, "the manor grows cold."
Sasi sniffed. "Adi take my lion."
"You pull!" Aditya argued again, the storm returning.
Varesh didn't raise his voice.He reached out, placing a warm hand on each small head.
"Do any of you know why the three moons of Dhara-Loka shine brightest only when they stand together?" he asked.
The triplets blinked, confused.
Grandfather Achintya chuckled softly from the doorway. "Because alone, each moon gives only a little light. But together… they can brighten the whole night."
Grandmother Sarvani joined them, kneeling."And just like that, you three were born together for a reason. One shines with courage. One shines with joy. One shines with calm. Apart, you are small lights… but together—"
She touched their foreheads gently.
"You become the sky."
The words lingered, soft as falling snow.
Aryan shifted first, crawling toward his brothers.Sasi wiped his eyes and followed.Aditya sat stiff for a moment—but even his stubborn heart melted eventually, and he scooted closer until all three were pressed together, tiny shoulders touching.
"I didn't mean to hurt," Aryan whispered.
"I didn't mean to pull," Sasi murmured.
"I didn't mean to shout…" Aditya added softly, staring down.Then he quickly added, "But lion is still mine."
Sasi huffed. "I want too."
Aryan sighed as if bearing the weight of the universe. "We… share."
The adults laughed—not at them, but with a warm relief that filled the manor like firelight.
From that day, the quarrels didn't vanish—they grew too, just as the triplets grew. But now, every small storm ended with three tiny hands reaching for each other, three heads leaning together, three hearts remembering the lesson whispered into their lives.
As the months passed, they learned to argue without breaking, to shout without hurting, to disagree without drifting apart. They learned that being brothers didn't mean never fighting—it meant never letting a fight make them forget they were brothers.
Near the end of spring, when they were three years and five months old, the manor woke to see the three of them sleeping in one tangled bundle again—Aditya's hand resting protectively over Sasi's shoulder, Sasi's arm looped around Aryan, Aryan's forehead gently pressed against both.
The storms had passed, leaving behind not cracks, but stronger bridges.
In the soft dawn light, Duchess Elaria whispered to Varesh,"They will grow, they will learn, they will stumble… but they will always find each other."
And so the house of Vyomtara breathed in peace once more—a peace built not on silence, but on tiny hearts learning what it truly meant to belong.