The first sliver of dawn touched the silent village like a cautious hand. Smoke at last curled from a few chimneys, thin and gray against the pale sky. Wooden shutters creaked open. Shapes moved between huts—men and women carrying baskets, hammering poles into the hard earth, stringing faded cloth between houses.
Ansh rubbed his eyes and pressed his nose against the temple's doorway. "Hey… it's alive," he whispered to Daav. The firebird ruffled its wings and chirped softly, as if agreeing.
Ashwini and Vijay joined him. Outside, the village looked almost normal, yet something still felt strange. No laughter. No chatter. The people worked in near silence, eyes down, lips pressed tight.
"Maybe they're shy," Vijay murmured.
"Maybe they're ghosts who build things in daylight," Ansh said with a grin.
Ashwini shot him a look. "Not funny."
Behind them, the temple's inner door remained shut. Rajyugas had not stepped out since the night before. No instructions. No words. Just that heavy, silent presence.
By mid-morning, the three children ventured out. The villagers barely glanced at them. A few nodded politely but spoke no greeting. They moved like people half-asleep.
"Creepy," Ansh muttered under his breath.
Then, at the far end of the square, a small figure caught his eye—a boy their own age, dragging a wooden cart filled with dried reeds. He hummed a cheerful tune, completely unlike the others.
Ansh brightened instantly. "Finally! Someone not carved from stone."
He bounded over before Ashwini or Vijay could stop him. "Hey! I'm Ansh. What's your name?"
The boy blinked, startled, then smiled. "Ravi," he said shyly.
Ashwini and Vijay caught up, offering polite greetings.
"What's everyone building?" Ansh asked, pointing to the cloth banners flapping weakly in the breeze.
"A festival," Ravi replied, voice light. "Tonight."
"What for?" Vijay asked.
Ravi shrugged. "Don't know. Grown-ups never say. But there's always music and candles. And sweets!" His eyes gleamed at the thought.
Ansh grinned. "Sweets? That's my kind of festival."
Daav chirped approvingly from Ansh's shoulder.
Ravi's smile widened when he noticed the little firebird. "Your bird's amazing!"
"He knows it," Ansh said proudly. "Wanna see something better? There's a lake near here, right? Let's go!"
Ravi hesitated. "We shouldn't—"
"Come on," Ansh coaxed. "We'll be back before anyone misses us. Promise."
With a shy laugh, Ravi nodded.
The lake shimmered like glass beneath the noon sun. Dragonflies darted over its surface.
Ansh kicked off his sandals and waded in up to his knees. "Perfect!" he declared, splashing water toward Vijay.
"Stop it!" Vijay yelped, but a reluctant smile crept across his face.
Ashwini rolled her eyes, yet soon joined them, gathering smooth stones to skip across the water. Daav circled above, flashing like a tiny flame in the bright sky.
Ravi laughed freely as he tried to match Ansh's stone-skipping skills. They raced along the shore, made towers of wet sand, and chased Daav when the little bird swooped low to tease them.
For a time, the strange silence of the village faded. The air rang with childish shouts and splashes.
When the shadows lengthened, Ravi reluctantly said, "I should go before my mother notices I'm gone."
"Same," Ashwini agreed. "We don't want Rajyugas to find out either."
Ansh grinned. "He's still sleeping like a rock. We'll sneak in, easy."
They walked back together, chatting and laughing until the village's quiet streets came into view. Once there, Ravi waved goodbye and darted to his home, his cheerful tune fading into the stillness.
Evening descended with a strange hush. Lanterns glowed faintly between the houses. Villagers moved like shadows, carrying baskets of herbs and jars of oil.
From the temple window, Ansh watched. "Where's the music? Where's the fun?"
"It's more like a… ceremony," Ashwini whispered.
Vijay frowned. "Something's wrong."
Rajyugas remained inside the inner chamber, silent as stone.
As the moon climbed higher, the quiet grew heavier.
Ansh's restlessness bubbled over. "I'm going out," he whispered.
Ashwini hesitated, then nodded. Vijay followed without a word.
Daav glowed softly on Ansh's shoulder as they slipped into the moonlit streets.
The villagers moved in a slow line toward the far edge of the village. Lanterns cast flickering light across their somber faces.
At the center of the group, carried on a rough wooden litter, lay Ravi—unconscious, head lolling, arms limp.
Ansh froze. "Ravi!"
Ashwini gasped. "Why are they—?"
"They're taking him somewhere," Vijay whispered, fists clenched.
Without thinking, Ansh darted after them, the others close behind. Daav's feathers flared with a faint, angry glow.
The procession wound toward a small clearing beyond the last hut, where an ancient stone altar stood beneath the gnarled branches of a massive tree. The villagers placed Ravi upon the altar, their faces grave.
A man stepped forward with a clay bowl filled with dark liquid. He raised it toward the moon, chanting words too low to hear.
"They're— they're going to hurt him," Ansh hissed.
Ashwini's eyes widened. "We have to stop them."
"How?" Vijay whispered. "There are dozens of them."
Ansh's jaw tightened. "Any way we can."
The three exchanged quick, wordless glances—the same understanding they'd forged through every trial.
Ashwini moved first, drawing moisture from the evening air. Vines from the tree's roots twitched, then crept upward, sliding silently toward the villagers' feet.
Vijay whispered a quick chant. A gust of wind rustled through the clearing, snuffing out half the lanterns. Darkness cloaked them.
Ansh and Daav darted forward under the cover of shadow. The boy's small hand gripped the altar's edge as Daav spiraled above, scattering tiny sparks to distract the villagers.
One of the men turned, eyes narrowing. "Who's there?"
Before he could shout, a sudden tangle of roots—Ashwini's doing—snaked around his ankles. He stumbled with a muffled cry. Others turned in confusion.
Vijay sent another burst of wind, toppling two more lanterns. Shadows deepened, panic spread.
Ansh seized the moment. He hauled Ravi into his arms, grunting at the weight. "Got him!"
"Back!" Ashwini called softly.
They retreated into the trees, villagers shouting behind them. Daav streaked overhead, leaving a trail of fire-bright sparks to mislead their pursuers.
Branches whipped past as they ran, hearts pounding. Ashwini loosened her vines to slow their followers, and Vijay conjured a small wall of air to mask their path.
At last they tumbled behind a fallen log deep in the woods. Ravi stirred faintly, groaning.
"You're safe," Ansh whispered, hugging the boy tightly. "We've got you."
Daav landed on Ansh's shoulder, feathers dimming to a gentle glow.
They crept back to the village unseen, slipping through shadowed lanes until the temple loomed ahead. No one followed.
Inside, they laid Ravi gently on a woven mat. He blinked awake, eyes wide with confusion. "Wha… what happened?"
"Long story," Ansh said softly. "You're okay now. That's what matters."
The inner chamber door creaked. Rajyugas stood there, expression unreadable. His gaze swept over the children, the soot on their clothes, the sleeping boy.
Ansh straightened, ready for scolding.
But the vice principal said only, "You brought him back."
No question. No rebuke. Just those calm words that carried the weight of understanding.
He stepped aside, letting the night's silence settle once more, while three young hearts beat fast with the secret of what they had saved.