The road curved southward into a land of rivers and thick forests.
Ganesh walked alone again, the sound of his staff tapping against stone the only rhythm to his steps. He had left Haridatta's people behind at dawn, trusting them to find their way without leaning on him.
The air grew warm and heavy as he descended into the lowlands.
By noon, he reached the banks of a wide river. Its waters flowed swift and dark, carrying fallen leaves and broken branches. On the far side, dense forest rose like a wall.
Ganesh paused, scanning for a place to cross.
That was when he heard laughter.
Light. Musical.
And completely out of place in the humid stillness.
He turned.
A man sat atop a rock near the riverbank, veena resting across his lap, long hair tied loosely, eyes sparkling with mischief.
Narada.
Ganesh's heart skipped.
The celestial sage strummed a chord and grinned.
"So," Narada said, "this is the one who confuses devas, defies visions, and walks away from thrones before anyone can offer them properly."
Ganesh bowed deeply.
"Devarshi Narada," he said. "I did not expect to meet you on a lonely riverbank."
Narada laughed.
"No one ever does," he replied. "Yet here I always am."
He hopped down lightly and circled Ganesh, studying him with keen eyes.
"You don't shine like heroes usually do," Narada mused. "No divine glow. No banners. Just dust on your feet."
Ganesh smiled faintly.
"I find dust more honest than light," he said.
Narada chuckled.
"Well spoken. Mahadev trains you, doesn't he?"
Ganesh did not answer.
Narada only laughed again.
"Silence is also an answer," he said. "Don't worry, I won't ask you to confirm. It's more entertaining this way."
He gestured toward the river.
"You'll want to cross soon," he added. "Something beneath those waters is in a foul mood today."
Ganesh frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Narada pointed with his veena.
Before Ganesh could respond, the river erupted.
Water exploded upward as a massive Naga rose from beneath the surface. Scales of deep emerald shimmered in the sunlight, and his hood flared wide, marked with glowing sigils. His eyes burned with ancient fury.
The river churned violently around him.
"Who dares step upon my domain without leave?" the Naga thundered.
Ganesh stood firm, staff in hand.
"I am only a traveler," he said. "If this is your domain, I will seek another crossing."
Narada leaned against a rock, watching with interest.
The Naga's gaze fell upon Ganesh.
"You smell of fire," he hissed. "And of the mountain ascetic. Why should I let you pass?"
Ganesh met his eyes.
"I won't ask you to," he said. "I will wait, if that is what dharma demands."
The Naga blinked, surprised.
"You do not threaten?" he asked.
Ganesh shook his head.
"No," he replied. "I have no right to."
The Naga studied him for a long moment.
Then his gaze shifted.
Behind Ganesh, a figure had emerged from the forest path.
A young woman.
She wore simple traveler's clothes, dust-stained like Ganesh's, but carried herself with quiet strength. Her long hair was tied back, and a bow was slung across her back. Her eyes were sharp, alert.
Aneet.
She stopped when she saw the scene—Ganesh, Narada, and the towering Naga.
Her hand moved to her bow.
Ganesh turned slightly.
"Stay back," he said gently. "This isn't a fight."
Aneet studied him, then the Naga.
"And if it becomes one?" she asked.
Ganesh smiled faintly.
"Then I'll stand," he said. "You shouldn't have to."
Aneet raised an eyebrow.
"Strange thing to say to a stranger," she replied. "But… I'll watch first."
The Naga's eyes narrowed as he noticed her.
"And who is she?" he demanded.
Ganesh glanced back.
"I don't know her name," he said honestly. "But she has done nothing wrong."
Narada laughed softly.
"Oh, this is getting interesting."
The Naga's gaze sharpened.
"Two flames on my riverbank," he hissed. "One who does not bow… and one who does not fear."
Aneet stepped forward a little.
"I respect your river," she said clearly. "But you rose ready to crush. That tells me something is wrong."
The Naga snarled.
"My son was taken by river hunters," he said. "Men who trap our kind and sell our scales for charms. I will drown any who cross until he is returned."
Ganesh's chest tightened.
"When did this happen?" he asked.
"Last night," the Naga replied.
Ganesh looked at Aneet.
"Did you see anything on the road?" he asked.
She nodded slowly.
"Yes," she said. "A group of men hauling a heavy net. They turned toward the old stone ruins upstream."
Ganesh turned back to the Naga.
"We can help you find him," he said. "But if you drown travelers, you may kill those who had nothing to do with it."
The Naga hesitated.
"And why should I trust you?" he asked.
Ganesh replied calmly, "Because I am not asking you to stop for my sake. I am asking for the innocent who will suffer before your son is found."
The Naga's hood slowly lowered.
Narada clapped softly.
"Ah, dharma in motion," he said. "Much better than watching it from scriptures."
The Naga exhaled heavily.
"My name is Takshaka, prince of this river," he said. "If you deceive me, mountain flame, I will drag your bones to the depths."
Ganesh bowed slightly.
"If I do, I deserve it," he said.
Aneet stepped up beside him.
"Then let's not waste time," she said. "Show us the way."
Ganesh glanced at her.
She met his eyes, steady.
"I won't stand aside when someone's child is taken," she said simply.
Ganesh nodded.
"Then walk with me," he said.
Takshaka sank back into the river, gesturing with his tail toward a narrow upstream path.
Narada strummed his veena.
"Well," he said cheerfully, "I'll be watching. Stories like this travel faster when I carry them."
Ganesh shook his head with a faint smile.
"Of course you will, Devarshi."
Narada winked.
"Someone has to keep the cosmos entertained."
And with a flash of light, he vanished.
Ganesh and Aneet started along the river path together.
For a few steps, neither spoke.
Then Aneet said, "You don't walk like someone who wants followers."
Ganesh smiled faintly.
"And you don't walk like someone who waits for permission."
She glanced at him, a hint of a smile touching her lips.
"Maybe that's why we're both here," she said.
Ganesh nodded.
"Maybe," he replied.
They walked on, toward the ruins and whatever waited there.
Two flames.
Choosing the same road.
Not because fate demanded it.
But because they did.