As the plane descended through the clouds, the country of Alzaras revealed itself like a secret finally lifting its veil. Nestled between France and Germany, it shimmered in the morning light — a kingdom of spires and rivers, old stone and quiet majesty.
Few ever got to visit this land. Fewer still were invited.
"I can't believe we're actually about to set foot in Alzaras!" thirteen-year-old Ishaan Banerjee practically shouted, pressing his face against the window. "People wait years for this! The Reval Festival only happens once in a lifetime — and we got tickets!"
His older brother Aaron, seventeen and already acting twice his age, leaned back in his seat. "Let's hope it lives up to all that hype," he said, though the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his curiosity.
The moment the doors opened, Ishaan burst out like a spring released. "Oh my god, the air! I can breathe! Where's all the smoke and exhaust?"
Aaron chuckled, grabbing their bags. "Let's appreciate clean air after we make sure Mom and Dad survive landing."
Behind them, Mr. and Mrs. Banerjee stumbled into the terminal — pale, dazed, and visibly regretting every meal they'd eaten that morning.
"Boys," Mrs. Banerjee managed, clutching her stomach, "let's just… get to the hotel before your father—"
"Ughhhhh…" came the answer from Mr. Banerjee, bent over and groping for the nearest paper bag.
Aaron sighed. "Yup. Classic Banerjee landing."
The taxi ride from the airport was like diving straight into a postcard — cobblestone streets lined with gold-leaved trees, flower stalls spilling colour, and cafés that smelled of butter and cinnamon.
Ishaan pressed his nose to the glass. "It's like an anime town! That building looks straight out of Attack on Titan! Do you think they'll let us climb it?"
Aaron laughed. "Maybe after we drop our luggage — and Mom stops looking like she's going to faint."
By the time they reached the inn, both parents had retreated to their rooms, muttering prayers to Durga Maa for stable stomachs.
From behind the door, Mrs. Banerjee called weakly, "You two can explore… just don't do anything that gets us deported."
"Understood!" Ishaan shouted back, grinning.
Aaron turned to him, eyebrow raised. "You heard her — behave."
"Of course," Ishaan said with mock seriousness, already tying his shoelaces. "I'm just going to… embrace the local culture."
"Translation: chaos," Aaron muttered.
The brothers changed quickly, Ishaan proudly showing off his dinosaur T-shirt.
"This," he declared, "is the outfit of a legend."
"Of a twelve-year-old," Aaron corrected.
"Thirteen!"
"Right. God protect Alzaras."