Seek out Sage Vyasa by the banyan to untangle the riddle left behind in the Lotus Garden.

Follow Anaya to the city’s backstreets, intent on tracking the kidnapper’s footprints before the trail grows cold.

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Palace Lotus Gardens

Shadows Over the Lotus Pool

Approach the final confrontation with empathy, invoking Vyasa’s wisdom at the Lotus Pool.

The Banyan Grove by the Lotus Pool

The Riddle Beneath the Banyan

Press forward, risking all to break the labyrinth’s curse before time slips away.

Stone Labyrinth of Mithilapur

Stones and Whispers in the Labyrinth

Lotus Pool at Sunrise

The Lotus at Dawn

Labyrinth Gate at Dusk

The Labyrinth Sealed

Arnav

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Dahliya

Anaya

Vyasa

Mukunda

In the shaded elegance of Mithilapur’s palace gardens, Arnav has grown up more familiar with the murmur of fountain-water than the clangour of swords. His dreams are unhurried things, lingering by the lotus pools and entwined in stories overheard in the alleys beyond the marble pavilions. Yet, when shadows topple serenity and Princess Dahliya is taken, a strange resolve flickers within him. Arnav finds himself walking the brittle divide between duty and desire, propelled by a gentle but persistent curiosity. Destiny, for Arnav, is not a tidal wave but a tide, one that laps at his feet until at last he learns its voice.

Dahliya’s laughter, as the elders of Mithilapur will recount, could sweeten even the sourest gossip at the local betel-seller’s stall. She is remembered most not for her ornamented grace, but for her warmth, the way she would pause beneath a tree to listen, or kneel in the market square to tend a bruised street dog. Wisdom sits lightly on her shoulders, never announced but always felt, and her absence draws a hush so profound that the very air seems to withhold its breath. Her fate entwines with Arnav’s by no simple romance, but by the turning wheels of compassion and shared hope.

Anaya, among the tangled hum of Mithilapur’s lanes, is both a question and an answer rarely guessed. Few know from where she came, but all agree she moves as if on a wind of her own making, laughter sharp as neem leaves and gaze measuring as a jeweller’s. She carries some old hurt with a lightness that hints at wisdom; and there are moments her mischief masks an undoubted courage. Friendship, for her, flits between hedge and horizon, but loyalty anchors deeper when the world looks away.

Sage Vyasa sits like one of the banyan tree's ancient roots—steadfast, silent, seemingly part of the landscape, but humming quietly with old, essential power. He speaks less in declarations than riddles, and in his gaze, every joy and sorrow is held without judgement or surprise. Vyasa’s guidance is both compass and mirror; he uncovers what the heart already suspects and offers patience as the truest balm. In Mithilapur, it is said that Vyasa remembers all stories ever told, though he has little interest in recounting his own.

Mukunda, the war elephant, has weathered both drought and celebration in Mithilapur, memories etched in every scar across his hide. Unlike the palace guards or watchful ministers, he bears witness to history from the quiet certainty of his stride. Though words are beyond him, Mukunda speaks volumes through the gentle press of his trunk or the stillness in his old, amber eyes. When he chooses to act, even earthquakes might pause in respect; yet the children of the palace trust him utterly, as though he carried a secret meant only for them.

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Palace-Garden Attire of the Young Prince

Streetwise Wanderer Garb

Sage of Banyan Grove Robes

Royal War Elephant Caparison

Moonlit Orchid Princess Ensemble

Arnav is dressed in a flowing dhoti of soft cream silk, the fabric catching light in subtle gold undertones, and knotted deftly at the waist with a silken cord in pale emerald. He wears a knee-length angarkha of deep indigo muslin, hand-embroidered along the collar and cuffs with motifs of lotuses and peacocks worked in delicate silver thread. A lightweight, translucent garden shawl in pale green is draped over one shoulder, its edges finely hemmed with ivory beading. Ornate wooden sandals, smooth and weathered from use in the gardens, protect his feet. Around his neck, a single string of river pearls, interspersed with small jade beads, hints at his princely status without ostentation. On his wrists rest slender copper bangles engraved with floral patterns; one of them features a small sapphire, gifted by his mother. His black hair is uncut and loose, occasionally adorned with a fresh garden bloom tucked behind an ear. A belt-pouch for seeds and scrolls hangs by his hip, alongside a slender dagger in a beaded sheath, practical for both garden tasks and unexpected perils. Completing the ensemble, a thin, moon-shaped birthmark is just visible beneath his jaw if the observer looks closely.

Dahliya’s attire is a graceful sari of smoky amethyst chiffon, its sheer, flowing layers shimmering softly, reminiscent of twilight on the palace ponds. The sari’s border is meticulously hand-embroidered with silver lotus motifs and tiny freshwater pearls, offering delicate sparkle as she moves. Her blouse is fitted, crafted from violet-tinted silk, with half-length sleeves edged in pale lilac and adorned with filigree silver cuffs. Dangling from her earlobes are simple crescent-moon earrings in silver, and she wears a slender tikka with a moonstone pendant at her brow. Her hair is parted and gathered in a loose braid interwoven with midnight jasmine and draped over her shoulder, leaving her silvery scar subtly visible. Around her neck is a fine silver chain holding a translucent stone said to ward off enchantments, while her wrists bear filigreed bangles, each etched with tiny motifs of animals to honor her compassion for all creatures. On her feet, open slippers of pale ivory leather, finely patterned with embroidered vines, keep her steps silent. A soft, petal-pink stole is draped lightly about her arms, occasionally slipping as she bends to comfort those around her, embodying the princess’s warmth and tranquil beauty.

Anaya’s outfit consists of loose, cropped trousers crafted from durable, indigo-dyed cotton, weathered from market scuffles and rooftop escapades, and edged with faded marigold stitching. Her top is a sleeveless, rust-orange kurti in soft linen, split at the sides for agile movement, with a faded blue sash cinched securely at the waist. She wears a hooded scarf-dhuna in muted saffron, thrown casually around her shoulders, the length stitched with mismatched glass beads and coins collected during her adventures. Her feet are shod in sturdy, calf-high boots of dark brown leather, scuffed and creased from running—each boot bearing small, hidden pockets. Woven bracelets and wooden bead bangles clink lightly on her wrists, and she sports a braided leather cord necklace with a charm carved in the shape of a fox’s head. Her fingers display a collection of brass rings, some shaped like tiny keys, others plain. A faded satchel, patched in many colors, hangs crosswise over her chest, containing tools, slings, and tattered scraps of old maps. Her shoulder-length hair is usually left loose, with stray locks escaping into her lively face, and a band of bright thread ties back stray wisps when she needs to see clearly.

Vyasa is clad in a serene ensemble of creamy handspun cotton, his dhoti falling in precise pleats to his ankles, the fabric soft and undyed like old parchment. Over this he wears a simple, full-length uttariya stole of faded ochre, its edges hand-loomed in deep maroon and detailed with subtle motifs of banyan leaves and scriptural verses rendered in threadbare indigo. His upper torso is covered by a sleeveless vest, woven of coarse jute, signifying humility and resilience. Around his waist is tied a slender sash of teal, from which hangs a prayer-bead mala crafted from ancient sandalwood seeds. Vyasa’s bare arms display faded symbols of protection inked in henna, and his hands are often dusted with sandalwood paste. On his feet are open leather sandals, their thongs crossed, worn smooth from temple walks. He wears no jewelry but keeps an earthen amulet, sculpted in the likeness of a conch shell, hung from a simple cord, signifying wisdom and lasting resonance. His long beard and hair are carefully coiled and held by a single carved wooden pin, and a woven basket containing sacred texts and a brass water pot is never far from his grasp.

Mukunda, the venerable war elephant, is adorned with a majestic yet dignified caparison befitting his storied role. His massive back is draped in a heavy, quilted cloth of deep indigo cotton, richly embroidered with golden thread in swirling motifs depicting ancient legends and the palace crest. The edges of the cloth are trimmed with tassels of scarlet and peacock green, billowing as he moves. Across his forehead rests an ornate brass headplate inscribed with protective mantras and set with lapis gems; at its center, a small stylized lotus symbolizes peace. Thick anklets—crafted from bell metal—encircle his front legs, chiming softly with each stride, though not loud enough to mask his gentle tread. On ceremonial occasions, a silk banner bearing the emblem of Mithilapur is affixed to a harness at his side, fluttering proudly atop a carved wooden finial. A padded leather saddle, shaped for the comfort of young riders, is embroidered with blue and gold thread and secured with wide, scarlet straps. His large ears are painted with natural dyes in vivid patterns—spirals and crescents echoing the kingdom’s myths—while his broken tusk is sheathed at the base in a band of hammered gold, a mark of honor and remembrance. Always, Mukunda’s caparison is meticulously kept, reflecting his revered place in the heart of Mithilapur.

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Seek wisdom from Sage Vyasa in the banyan grove.

Follow Anaya into Mithilapur’s winding streets to investigate.

Arnav’s concern for Dahliya sharpens, strengthening the bond of trust and affection: Trust +1, Compassion +1.

Anaya’s veiled words and offer of help build mutual respect: Trust +1.

Sage Vyasa’s wisdom is a quiet comfort; mentorship is reinforced: Trust +1, Admiration +1.

Mukunda’s silent support gives Arnav resolve: Trust +1.

Seek Sage Vyasa’s wisdom beneath the banyan tree.

Follow Anaya into the city to gather clues from the streets.

Arnav feels a subtle surge of gratitude toward Mukunda, the silent guardian whose loyalty sharpens Arnav’s own resolve (+1 trust).

Arnav’s respect for Vyasa solidifies, the sage’s presence bringing not answers, but clarity in questioning (+1 trust, +1 wisdom).

Let compassion guide your next steps and offer forgiveness—to yourself or another—when facing what lies ahead.

Let anger and urgency drive you to force your way through the Labyrinth, confronting obstacles with open defiance.

Trust grows between Arnav and Anaya as they navigate danger together, opening space for genuine friendship beyond first caution.

Mukunda’s silent support bolsters Arnav’s resolve, deepening the sense of protector and protege.

Arnav and Dahliya stand together at the edge of the pool, their bond newly tempered by empathy and shared trial—the gentle comfort of understanding outshining all words.

Anaya, though still watchful, finds her admiration for Arnav deepened. Respect blooms where caution once knotted the air.

Vyasa’s eyes reflect the silent approval of a teacher glimpsing promise fulfilled in his pupil.

Mukunda’s confident stillness signals a peace not born of victory, but of belonging gently restored.

Trust and affection deepen, their bond now marked by shared understanding rather than rescue. The affection is quieter, but stronger for it.

Respect and admiration for Arnav’s gentle wisdom bloom, trust deepens. Their friendship is tinged with new warmth and mutual support.

Arnav’s respect for Vyasa’s counsel is confirmed—wisdom’s value proved not in riddles solved, but in hearts soothed.

Loyalty and guardianship remain unshaken; Mukunda’s belief in Arnav’s gentleness is affirmed and rewarded.

The Prince of Mithilapur

An ancient kingdom, lush and vibrant under the undulating Indian sun, quietly cradles its secrets until destiny nudges Arnav, son of Maharaja Virendra. You, as Arnav, find solace in the gardens of Mithilapur, but peace is shattered when Princess Dahliya, renowned for her kindness and wisdom, is whisked away by an enigmatic force. Guided by the wisdom of sage Vyasa and the courage in your own heart, the path ahead twists through tangled forests, forgotten temples, and riddles more poetic than perilous. Every choice leads closer to or further from Dahliya, yet with each step, a sense of self deepens as you decipher truth from illusion. The bonds of friendship, the haunting melody of loss, and the allure of ancient magic shape your adventure.

The Prince of Mithilapur

The Prince of Mithilapur

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