The road led them into a wide fertile basin where rivers braided across green fields and herds of cattle grazed under the open sky.
For the first time in many days, Ganesh and Aneet saw signs of true order — stone embankments, irrigation channels, and clusters of homes built with care rather than haste.
"People live well here," Aneet said quietly.
Ganesh nodded.
"Someone guides them," he replied. "Not by fear."
They approached a settlement at the basin's heart.
At its center stood a great hall of wood and stone, its pillars carved with symbols of the sun, the seasons, and flowing water.
Before it, a tall, broad-shouldered man stood addressing a gathered crowd.
His presence was calm but commanding, eyes clear, bearing the weight of countless choices.
Manu.
Ganesh felt it at once.
Not divine radiance.
Authority.
The kind that comes from being trusted.
Manu noticed them as they drew near.
He raised a hand, and the people fell silent.
"Travelers," Manu said, voice deep and steady. "You walk with the air of those who have seen more than roads. Come. Be welcome."
Ganesh and Aneet stepped forward.
Ganesh bowed.
"O Progenitor of mankind," he said. "Law-giver and guardian of order. I greet you."
Manu studied him carefully.
"So you know who stands before you," Manu said. "Then tell me, wanderer — who stands before me?"
Ganesh straightened.
"A man who walks," he said. "Nothing more."
Manu's lips curved faintly.
"Nothing less," he replied.
He gestured for them to sit near the edge of the gathering while the people slowly dispersed, leaving only a few elders behind.
Manu approached them.
"You come from roads where gods walk openly," he said. "What brings you into lands of farmers and herdsmen?"
Ganesh answered honestly.
"The road," he said. "It doesn't ask where we wish to go."
Manu nodded.
"That is true of all roads," he said. "Even the ones we build for others."
He motioned them to walk with him along the irrigation channels.
Aneet observed the fields.
"You've built something strong here," she said.
Manu nodded.
"Not strong," he corrected. "Stable. Strength breaks when tested. Stability bends."
Ganesh smiled faintly.
"Well said."
They walked in silence for a while.
Then Manu spoke again.
"I have heard whispers," he said. "Of a man who refuses thrones. Who stands between devas and asuras. Who walks without banner."
Ganesh said nothing.
Manu stopped and turned to him.
"Why do you refuse to be named?" Manu asked.
Ganesh met his gaze.
"Because names become walls," he said. "They keep people from seeing who stands before them."
Manu studied him.
"And yet," he said, "walls also protect."
Ganesh nodded.
"They do," he said. "But they also decide who stays inside and who is left out."
Manu considered this.
"You fear becoming a divider," he said.
Ganesh nodded.
"Yes."
Manu gestured toward the fields.
"Look at this land," he said. "It did not shape itself. I gave laws, boundaries, duties. People follow them, and so they eat."
He turned back to Ganesh.
"Tell me, wanderer: if you had my place, would you rule?"
Ganesh was silent.
Then he said, "No."
Manu's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Why?"
Ganesh replied, "Because once I ruled, I would have to choose whose voice matters more. And I don't trust myself with that power."
Manu studied him deeply.
"And yet you choose every time you step between two sides," he said. "How is that different?"
Ganesh thought.
Then he said, "When I choose in a moment, I carry the weight alone. When I rule, others carry my choices long after I've gone. That's a heavier burden than I should place on them."
Aneet nodded softly.
"That sounds right," she said.
Manu smiled faintly.
"You fear binding people to you," he said.
Ganesh nodded.
"Yes."
Manu gestured toward the people in the distance.
"These people are bound to me," he said. "By trust. By law. By hope."
He looked at Ganesh.
"Do you think I sought that?"
Ganesh hesitated.
"No," he said. "But you accepted it."
Manu nodded.
"I did," he said. "Because without someone to accept it, they would bind themselves to fear instead."
Ganesh lowered his gaze.
Manu placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You and I walk different roads," Manu said gently.
"You walk to keep yourself unshaped. I walk to shape a people."
"Both are dharma."
Ganesh looked up.
"I don't deny your path," he said. "I only know it isn't mine."
Manu smiled.
"Then answer me one more thing," he said. "When your road leads you to people who beg you to stay — to lead them — what will you do?"
Ganesh replied quietly, "I will teach them how to lead themselves. And then I will leave."
Manu's eyes shone.
"That," he said, "is harder than ruling."
He stepped back and gestured.
"Come," he said. "Let me show you what law looks like when it lives."
They walked through the settlement as Manu spoke with villagers, settling disputes, assigning work, listening to complaints.
He did not raise his voice.
He did not threaten.
Yet people obeyed.
Not because they feared him.
Because they trusted him.
Aneet whispered to Ganesh, "He carries weight like Varuna's chains."
Ganesh nodded.
"But he chose to wear them."
They returned to the hall as evening approached.
Manu stood before them once more.
"I wanted to see if you despised authority," he said. "You do not. You simply refuse to become it."
Ganesh bowed.
"Yes."
Manu nodded.
"Good," he said. "Because the world needs both — those who build pillars, and those who walk between them so they do not become walls."
He reached into his robe and drew out a simple wooden tablet etched with symbols.
"Take this," Manu said. "Not as law… but as memory."
Ganesh accepted it.
"What is written here?" he asked.
Manu replied, "The first laws I gave my people. They will change with time. But the spirit behind them should not."
Ganesh bowed deeply.
"I will carry it with respect," he said.
Manu turned to Aneet.
"And you, archer," he said,
"when his road tempts him to stand alone, remind him that even a wanderer needs a hearth to remember why he walks."
Aneet inclined her head.
"I will," she said.
Manu smiled.
"Then go," he said. "And walk your unwritten road."
They bowed and turned to leave.
As they walked away, Manu watched them go.
"Strange pair," he murmured.
"One refuses to be king… and yet may change more than any throne ever could."
Ganesh and Aneet walked back onto the open road as the sun dipped low.
Aneet broke the silence.
"He wanted you to stay," she said.
Ganesh nodded.
"Yes."
"And you didn't even hesitate," she added.
Ganesh smiled faintly.
"I hesitated inside," he said. "But I knew the answer before he asked."
She looked at him.
"You really won't ever rule, will you?"
Ganesh shook his head.
"No," he said. "But I will stand beside those who do."
Aneet smiled.
"Good," she said. "Someone has to remind them they're human."
They walked on.
Two flames.
Between law and freedom.