The golden lights of the Sambhali sanctuary glowed softly around the dining chamber. Zin sat with Sukal, Divya, young Avhel, and the newly healed Yarul, sharing a warm meal for the first time in days.
When dinner finished, Zin leaned back slowly, his curiosity finally surfacing.
"Sukal… how are you still so young? You look hardly older than Yarul."
Sukal smiled calmly.
"It's a gift of Sambhala—both our knowledge and our genetics. Our aging is… slower."
Zin shook his head in disbelief.
"And how did you build such a settlement after Sambhala was destroyed? Its greatness… its people… everything burned. Yet this place looks like a rebirth."
Sukal's expression softened.
"Divya and I searched relentlessly for survivors. We gathered whoever we could find… and rebuilt a small Sambhala from their ashes."
Zin's eyes wandered across the chamber—the bright lamps, the golden-tinged air, the healthy food.
"What about the vegetables and pulses? The crops? The land outside looks dead… but your fields are full."
Sukal nodded.
"Yes, Earth is no longer fertile. But Sambhali texts describe certain plant combinations—when grown together—they restore fertility to the soil."
Zin stared, stunned.
"And these lights?" he asked, glancing at the brilliant lamps.
"We mix a small amount of elixir into oil and cotton," Sukal explained. "It produces more light… and lasts longer."
Zin hesitated, nervous.
"Sukal… can you teach our people these things?
I know Sambhalies never share their secrets.
But my tribe… we are struggling to survive."
Sukal went silent for a long moment.
Then nodded.
"We can teach you some things. Not everything. Your bodies may not handle all Sambhali methods. But enough… to survive."
Zin bowed his head gratefully.
And so began a new era.
For four years, the Yaksha Clan and Sambhali survivors lived together—slowly merging their strengths.
The Yaksha taught the Sambhalies hunting, tracking, and survival in harsh climates.
The Sambhalies taught agriculture, herbal medicine, and basic restorative techniques.
There were occasional arguments, clashes of ideals, even small fights—
But Yarul said, "They always resolved."
Even better—
Yarul and Avhel became inseparable.
They hunted together, trained together, ate together.
They grew into brothers not by blood, but by destiny.
During these years, something else happened—
Avhel, son of Sukal and Divya, fell deeply in love with a Yaksha woman.
Astrid.
One of the most powerful warriors of the clan.
Her strength rivaled any man's—except Avhel's.
Their bond shook the entire settlement with excitement.
Soon, they married.
Avhel was unmatched—physically strong, mentally sharp, and pure-hearted.
People adored him.
That was when the legend began.
One hunting group got trapped deep in the forest.
A monstrous eagle—larger than any creature seen in centuries—began hunting them.
Ten went in.
Four died.
Then Avhel arrived.
Alone.
He killed the eagle single-handedly.
This was the moment the Yaksha warriors accepted him not just as a Sambhali—
but as a champion.
But even in unity, some boundaries remained.
Every five days, the Sambhalies held a secret ritual:
Elixir Night.
Only Sambhalies were allowed.
No Yaksha could enter.
Not even Astrid.
Not even Avhel's closest friends.
Through the night, they mixed ingredients found only in sacred Sambhali texts—
creating elixirs that extended life, healed wounds, and strengthened bodies.
These rituals kept their identity alive.
And their secrets safe.
With peace in the settlement, joy flourished.
Yarul married a Yaksha girl named Risha, gentle and kind, but brave when needed.
Their love was quiet, deep, and strong.
A year later, Avhel and Astrid had a child.
A boy.
Kasha.
Kasha grew up strong—too strong.
He carried the perfect mix of Yaksha endurance and Sambhali purity.
Every Sambhali newborn was given a special elixir to improve immunity.
This elixir always left a dark mark behind the ear—
but the child always fell sick for days.
Always.
Except Kasha.
He drank the elixir.
The mark appeared.
But he didn't fall sick.
Not even for a minute.
Sukal was stunned.
He searched ancient texts for an explanation—
but found nothing.
Meanwhile, Yarul and Risha also had a son:
Uruvi.
Kasha and Uruvi grew up like twins, always together.
But then—
Zin died of old age.
The Yaksha Clan crowned Yarul as their new leader.
As leader, Yarul restarted a dream Zin had always refused—
contact with other communities.
"We must trade," Yarul insisted.
"We cannot rely only on hunting."
But Sukal resisted.
"Sambhali identity must stay hidden. No outsiders can come near."
Yarul compromised.
"I will only take Yaksha people. We won't reveal your settlement. We will trade animal products only—not crops, not elixirs."
Avhel supported him, though Astrid warned:
"This is dangerous. Don't trust outsiders."
Still, Avhel agreed to help his friend.
He approached Sukal.
Sukal opposed the idea strongly.
"We have suffered enough from outsiders before. Trading invites danger."
But Avhel reasoned gently:
"We will be cautious. Yarul will only go far… not near our settlement."
Finally, Sukal sighed and surrendered.
"Fine.
But I will monitor everything.
No Sambhali technique leaves this land."
Avhel nodded.
Then asked quietly:
"Did you find anything about Kasha yet?"
Sukal shook his head.
"No. His reaction to the elixir is… unique.
Strange.
And potentially dangerous."
Avhel tensed.
"Can we give him the stronger elixir? The one meant for full purification?"
Sukal's face darkened instantly.
"No. Absolutely not.
That elixir nearly killed Zakur.
No Sambhali ever drank it again."
" But Zakur was an animal" said Avhel
" He was Sambhali" replied Sukal
Then he shifted the topic back.
"So… the trade?"
Sukal nodded reluctantly.
"Approved.
But be careful."
Avhel rushed to Yarul, smiling.
Yarul hugged him like a brother.
And left the next morning—
to search for new communities.