Tez woke to the sound of flowing water.
For a few moments, he did not remember where he was.
He opened his eyes slowly.
Above him, tall sal trees stretched towards the morning sky. Their leaves moved gently in the cool breeze, allowing small beams of sunlight to reach the forest floor. Birds sang from the branches, and somewhere nearby, a stream flowed over smooth stones.
Everything was peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Then the memories returned.
The alarm horn.
The fire.
The screams.
His father.
His mother.
Mira.
Tez sat up so suddenly that pain shot through his body. His hands were covered with burns and scratches. His clothes were torn and stained with ash.
He looked around.
He was lying inside a small hut made of bamboo, mud, and dried grass. A clay lamp burned quietly in one corner. Bundles of herbs hung from the wooden roof, filling the room with a pleasant smell.
The leather pouch.
His eyes searched the room in panic.
An old man sat quietly near the doorway.
It was the wandering sage.
The same man Tez had met during the festival in Suryanagari.
Without looking up, the sage spoke.
"You are awake."
Tez quickly stood.
"My family!"
His voice shook.
"I have to go back."
He rushed towards the door.
The old man did not stop him.
"If your heart tells you to return," he said calmly, "then go."
Tez stepped outside.
The forest was quiet.
A narrow path led towards a hill.
Without another word, he began to run.
---
The journey back felt much longer than he remembered.
Every step filled him with hope.
Perhaps his father had survived.
Perhaps his mother had found shelter.
Perhaps Mira was waiting for him.
He repeated these thoughts again and again until they became prayers.
When he reached the top of the hill...
He stopped.
Below him lay Suryanagari.
Or what was left of it.
The smoke had faded.
The fire was gone.
Only black earth remained.
The homes where children had laughed were now broken walls.
The temple stood in ruins.
The great banyan tree had lost many of its branches.
The fields that had once shone with golden crops were covered with ash.
No voices.
No music.
No life.
Only silence.
Tez slowly walked into the village.
His feet knew every path.
His heart wished it did not.
---
Near the village well, he found an old wooden toy.
Mira's toy horse.
One of its wheels was missing.
She had cried for an entire day when it first broke.
Tez had promised to repair it after the harvest festival.
He picked it up carefully.
His hands began to shake.
"I forgot..."
he whispered.
"I told her I would fix it."
His knees gave way.
He sat on the ground holding the tiny toy close to his chest.
For the first time since waking...
He cried without holding back.
The empty village heard every tear.
---
Hours passed.
Tez walked through every part of Suryanagari.
He searched the remains of his home.
He searched near the temple.
He searched the fields where he had worked beside his father.
He called their names until his voice became weak.
No answer came.
Near the banyan tree, he found Acharya Somdev's broken walking staff.
He picked it up slowly.
His teacher had always said,
"A person is remembered not by how long he lives, but by the goodness he leaves behind."
Tez closed his eyes.
"So many good people..."
he whispered.
"Why did they have to die?"
The wind carried away his question.
The forest gave no reply.
---
As the sun moved across the sky, the sage quietly joined him.
He carried two clay cups filled with water.
He handed one to Tez.
The boy accepted it without speaking.
For a long time, neither of them said a word.
Finally, the sage broke the silence.
"Grief is like the river."
Tez looked at him.
"It never truly stops."
"It changes."
Tez lowered his eyes.
"I don't want it to change."
The sage nodded.
"I know."
"I want my family back."
"So would I."
Tez looked up in surprise.
"You knew them?"
"I knew enough."
The answer only created more questions.
---
They walked towards the old banyan tree.
The sage knelt and gently touched the blackened earth.
"This village was not attacked for its wealth."
"I heard the masked men."
Tez's voice became stronger.
"They were searching for something."
The sage looked at him carefully.
"What exactly did you hear?"
"They spoke about... a child."
"And?"
"They also spoke about... a symbol."
The old man's face became serious.
"And did your father give you anything before the attack?"
Tez nodded.
"A leather pouch."
"I remember."
The sage reached into his shoulder bag and carefully placed the pouch in Tez's hands.
"Your father trusted you."
"But why me?"
"Because one day..."
the sage said softly,
"...you will need to know the truth."
Tez looked at the pouch.
Every answer seemed to be hidden inside it.
Yet he remembered his father's final words.
Never open it unless the right person asks for it.
He held it tightly.
"I gave him my word."
A gentle smile appeared on the sage's face.
"And your father chose well."
Far away, a crow suddenly cried from the broken temple.
The sage slowly stood.
"We cannot stay here after sunset."
"Why?"
He looked towards the forest.
"Because those who burned Suryanagari may return to make sure nothing survived."
Tez turned and looked once more at the village that had been his whole world.
He had arrived hoping to find his family.
Instead...
He found only memories.
And a promise that had become the only thing left to protect.