The road felt quieter without Keral.
Not empty — just different.
Ganesh and Aneet walked side by side through the wide, reborn land, their footsteps soft against damp soil where grass had begun to grow again. The air was fresh, carrying the scent of wet earth and new life.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Then Aneet said, "He'll do well there."
Ganesh nodded. "Yes. He was always meant to stop walking before we did."
They continued in silence, the memory of their companion staying with them even as the distance grew.
By midday, the land rose gently into low hills. From the top of one, they saw a small settlement ahead — wooden shelters, smoke rising from simple fires, and people moving about with quiet purpose.
Ganesh stopped. "There are survivors here too."
Aneet shaded her eyes. "And not just a camp. They're building something that looks like it will last."
They walked closer.
At the edge of the settlement, guards with simple spears stepped forward, cautious but not aggressive.
"Who goes there?" one called.
"Travelers," Ganesh replied. "We came to see if help is needed."
The guards exchanged glances, then one said, "Our leader will decide. Come."
They were led into the center of the settlement, where a group of elders stood around a young man speaking to them.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, with calm eyes and simple clothes stained with mud and sweat. He did not look like a king.
He looked like someone carrying more responsibility than he had ever asked for.
The guards announced, "Strangers, asking to help."
The young man turned toward them.
"I am Ikshvaku," he said plainly. "If you come in peace, you are welcome. But understand — we have little to give."
Ganesh felt a quiet recognition stir within him.
The name carried weight.
Aneet noticed his reaction but said nothing.
Ganesh bowed slightly. "We come only to help where we can."
Ikshvaku studied them for a moment, then nodded. "Then stay. Any hands willing to work are worth more than gold right now."
They spent the afternoon working with the people.
Ganesh helped clear stones and fallen trees to make space for more shelters.
Aneet worked with the women, organizing food and water.
They listened to stories of survival — of clinging to trees, of losing loved ones, of walking for days through mud to find this higher ground.
Ikshvaku worked beside everyone, lifting wood, carrying water, never acting above any task.
At one point, Aneet watched him silently.
"He doesn't command much," she said to Ganesh. "He leads by doing."
Ganesh nodded. "That's why they follow him."
As the sun lowered, Ikshvaku gathered everyone.
"We will build here," he said clearly. "This land is high and strong. It kept us alive. We will make it our home."
People nodded, some with tired smiles, some with tears in their eyes.
Hope was taking root.
That evening, Ganesh and Aneet sat with Ikshvaku near a small fire.
He offered them simple food and thanked them for their help.
"You both walk like people who have seen much more than this," Ikshvaku said. "Where are you headed?"
Ganesh answered honestly. "Wherever people are trying to stand again."
Ikshvaku nodded. "Then you may not stay long."
Aneet smiled. "Probably not."
Ikshvaku looked into the fire.
"I never wanted to lead anyone," he admitted. "But when the flood took my father and many others, everyone looked at me. I couldn't turn away."
Ganesh said, "That's how most true leaders begin. Not by wanting power, but by accepting responsibility."
Ikshvaku studied him. "You speak as if you know this well."
Ganesh smiled faintly. "I've seen it in many forms."
Ikshvaku asked, "What should I do now? People expect answers, but I barely know how to rebuild my own home."
Aneet replied simply, "Start by making sure your people sleep without fear tonight. The rest can grow from that."
Ikshvaku nodded slowly, taking her words to heart.
Later that night, as the settlement grew quiet, Aneet asked Ganesh softly, "This Ikshvaku… he matters, doesn't he?"
Ganesh nodded. "Yes. His line will carry great dharma in the ages to come."
Aneet looked at the sleeping shelters.
"And he doesn't know it."
"No," Ganesh said. "And he shouldn't. It's enough that he chooses to walk rightly now."
They sat in silence, watching the fire burn low.
The next morning, Ganesh and Aneet prepared to leave.
Ikshvaku came to see them off.
"You've helped us more than you know," he said. "If our paths cross again, I hope it will be in better times."
Ganesh smiled. "They will. Even if we don't see it ourselves."
Ikshvaku bowed respectfully. "May your road be safe."
Aneet bowed in return. "And may your people grow strong."
They walked away as the settlement began another day of building.
They had not gone far when they noticed movement across the plain — a group of people herding cattle, moving slowly across the land.
Aneet pointed. "Another group of survivors."
Ganesh nodded. "Let's see if they need help too."
They approached carefully.
The group consisted of families, children, and elders, guiding thin but living cattle. Their leader was a young man with bright eyes and an easy smile, even in hardship.
He raised a hand. "Peace, travelers. We don't want trouble."
Ganesh replied, "Neither do we. We only want to help if we can."
The young man laughed lightly. "Then you're welcome. I am Pururavas."
Ganesh felt it again — that quiet recognition.
Another name heavy with future.
They walked with the group for a while, helping them guide the cattle through muddy ground.
Pururavas spoke freely. "We lost our village, but not our people. So we move. Where grass grows again, our cattle will follow, and so will we."
Aneet smiled. "You carry your home with you."
Pururavas nodded. "That's one way to survive."
By evening, they sat together near a stream.
Pururavas asked, "You two don't seem tied to any land. Why walk so much?"
Ganesh answered, "Because some roads are meant to be walked, not settled."
Pururavas laughed. "Then maybe our roads are not so different."
Aneet looked at him thoughtfully.
"Remember this," she said. "Your people will follow not just your strength, but your heart. Never forget them, even when power grows."
Pururavas grew serious. "I won't. I promise."
Ganesh added, "Care for those who depend on you, and your name will live longer than any home."
Pururavas nodded, not fully understanding, but feeling the weight of their words.
When night came, Ganesh and Aneet prepared to move on again.
Pururavas clasped Ganesh's arm. "Safe travels, friend. Maybe one day we'll meet again."
Ganesh smiled. "Perhaps. In another age."
They left the camp quietly, walking back into the open land.
As stars filled the sky, Aneet spoke.
"Two leaders in one day," she said. "Both just trying to rebuild."
Ganesh nodded. "And both will shape the world in ways they cannot imagine."
Aneet looked at him. "Do you ever wish you could tell them?"
Ganesh shook his head. "No. If they knew, they might walk for the future instead of for today. And today is what matters."
They continued walking, their figures small against the vast reborn world.
Behind them, two young leaders — one building a home, one guiding his people across the plains — carried forward the seeds of dynasties yet to come.
Ahead of them, the road stretched on.
Their journey through Satya Yuga was far from over.