The morning sun shone over Shaktiveer Territory, casting a warm golden glow across its streets.
Vivaan wandered along the stone-paved road with his hands behind his head, occasionally kicking a tiny pebble as he admired everything around him.
He had left home with a simple plan: explore somewhere interesting.
And Shaktiveer Territory had no shortage of interesting places.
Vivaan stopped at a crossroads where the busy residential streets gave way to a broad avenue lined with trees.
Beyond the avenue stretched a landscape so vast that he could barely see where it ended.
Golden wheat swayed gently in the breeze, green crops covered enormous fields, and rows of fruit trees extended toward distant hills.
Narrow irrigation canals carried sparkling water between the farmlands, while farmers moved between the crops, tending to their work.
Vivaan’s Cosmic Galaxy Eyes brightened with curiosity.
“Wow.
This is amazing!”
He turned slowly, trying to take in everything at once.
He had seen gardens, markets, training grounds, and beautiful places around his home, but the Agriculture Division was something else entirely.
The fields seemed endless, and every section appeared to grow something different.
Vivaan crouched beside a canal, watching the water flow between two small plots.
He noticed how one channel divided into three narrower streams, each carrying water toward a separate field.
“Hmm.
They must have designed the channels so that the water reaches different sections without wasting too much of it,” he murmured, studying the arrangement.
After a moment, Vivaan stood and continued along the path.
He was so fascinated by the surrounding farmland that he almost missed the elderly man approaching from the opposite direction.
The man was struggling.
In one hand, he carried a small hammer with several long nails tucked securely beside its handle.
In the other, he held a bundle of wooden fence posts.
The bundle was awkwardly arranged, and the older man’s steps had slowed under its weight.
His long white beard fell across much of his face, concealing his features.
He wore simple white clothes that had clearly seen years of work, and his hands showed the signs of someone accustomed to spending his life outdoors.
Vivaan stopped walking.
He watched the elderly man for a few moments, wondering whether the man would ask someone nearby for help.
The old man did not.
Instead, he adjusted the wooden posts against his arm and continued forward, apparently determined to carry everything himself.
Vivaan tilted his head.
He could use a hand.
Why doesn’t he ask anyone?
He could have continued his walk.
After all, the old man had not asked him to do anything, and Vivaan had plenty of farmland left to explore.
Instead, he ran toward him.
The elderly man noticed the approaching footsteps and turned his head.
A few strands of his long beard shifted as he examined the boy standing in front of him.
“What are you doing here, kid?” the old man asked, his voice rough but not unfriendly.
“This isn’t exactly a place for someone as small as you to wander around alone.”
Vivaan laughed lightly, entirely unbothered by the remark.
“I’m exploring my territory!” he announced proudly.
The old man paused.
“Your territory?” he repeated, shifting the bundle of fence posts against his arm.
“And are you sure you haven’t forgotten the way back home?”
Vivaan placed his hands on his hips, looking thoroughly amused.
“I know how to find my way home.
But more importantly, do you need help?”
The elderly man glanced at the hammer and the wooden posts, then looked back at the boy.
“Help?
What kind of help could you possibly offer?”
Vivaan pointed toward the bundle.
“I can help you with those fences!
I’d like to help, and I think planting fences could be fun.”
For several seconds, the old man simply stared at him.
Then he burst into laughter.
“Fences are work for adults, little one, not children!” he exclaimed, shaking his head.
“Go back to your wandering and enjoy yourself.
There’s no need to trouble yourself with an old man’s work.”
Vivaan’s smile remained, but he did not move.
“I really want to help,” he insisted.
“Please let me.”
The elderly man laughed again, seemingly entertained by the boy’s determination.
“All right, all right.
Since you insist, hold this hammer and follow me.
But I’m not going to give you any heavy work, understand?
You can walk beside me, and I’ll handle the difficult parts.”
He carefully passed the hammer to Vivaan, making sure the boy had a secure grip.
Vivaan accepted it with both hands.
“Deal!”
The old man started toward one of the fields, and Vivaan followed him enthusiastically.
Along the way, the boy glanced between the hammer and the wooden posts, already imagining how the fence would look once they finished.
They eventually reached the boundary between the packed earth of the path and the soft soil of the cultivated field.
The elderly man stopped, placed the bundle of wooden posts on the ground, and removed his shoes.
Vivaan watched him step barefoot onto the soil.
The old man moved comfortably between the rows, clearly familiar with every part of the field.
He selected a spot near the boundary and began examining where the first post should go.
Vivaan looked down at his own shoes.
Then he looked at the field.
Then he looked back at the old man.
A thoughtful expression appeared on his face.
“If only I had learned a technique that let me walk on air,” Vivaan muttered.
“Or maybe I should have asked Mom for wings.”
The elderly man glanced over his shoulder.
“What was that, kid?”
Vivaan lifted the hammer slightly.
“Nothing has to do with this!”
The old man chuckled and extended his hand toward the tool.
“You’ve helped me enough by bringing that here.
Hand me the hammer, and I’ll finish the work quickly.
You can wait on the path.”
Vivaan considered the suggestion.
For a moment, he seemed genuinely tempted to accept.
Then his eyes shifted toward the soft earth, and a small smile spread across his face.
He placed the hammer safely on the ground, removed his shoes, and set them neatly beside the path.
Before the old man could turn around, Vivaan stepped forward and jumped down into the field.
He landed on the soil with a soft thud.
Vivaan brushed a little dirt from his hands and grinned.
“See?
Problem solved!”
For a moment, the old man remained silent.
Then his weathered face broke into a broad smile.
“Well done, kid!
You’ve got spirit.
Keep that determination, and you’ll become a fine Shurveer one day.”
Vivaan blinked.
Then he straightened his back and pointed at himself.
“One day?
I’m already a Shurveer!”
The old man let out another hearty laugh.
“Already, are you?
That’s quite a claim for someone who looks as though he should still be playing with wooden toys.”
Vivaan was preparing a clever reply when the elderly man stepped closer to retrieve the hammer.
At that moment, the boy’s hair shifted in the breeze.
Several strands that had fallen across his face moved aside, revealing his eyes completely.
The old man’s laughter faded.
He had been standing too far away to see them clearly before.
Now, with Vivaan only a short distance away, he could finally look directly into the boy’s Cosmic Galaxy Eyes.
Deep azure blended into midnight blue within each iris.
Countless stars shimmered across the darkness, and tiny constellations seemed to move through a living night sky.
The eyes were beautiful, but beauty alone could not explain the strange impression they left upon him.
The old man stared for a moment longer than he intended.
“Who are you, child?” he asked quietly.
His gaze remained fixed on Vivaan’s eyes.
“And what exactly are those eyes?”
Vivaan’s confident expression changed to confusion.
He leaned his head slightly to one side, as though checking whether something was wrong with his face.
“What’s unusual about them?” he asked.
“They’re just my eyes.
I have Mom’s eyes.”
The elderly man’s fingers tightened slightly around the hammer.
“Your mom’s eyes?” he repeated.
Vivaan nodded.
“Yes.
Mom says we have the same eyes.”
The old man studied him again.
Then, as a possibility occurred to him, his expression shifted.
“Wait a moment.
Are you Her Majesty’s son?”
Vivaan looked even more confused.
“No,” he answered matter-of-factly.
“I’m my mom’s son.”
The old man went completely still.
For a brief moment, he seemed unsure whether he had heard the boy correctly.
Then he lowered his head, and a strange mixture of understanding and amusement crossed his face.
So Her Majesty hasn’t told her son that she rules this territory.
He had expected the child to know who his mother was.
Instead, Vivaan appeared genuinely puzzled by the question, as though being someone’s son were the most obvious explanation in the world.
The elderly man decided not to press the matter.
“Never mind, kid,” he said, clearing his throat.
“Let’s finish this fence before the sun climbs any higher.”
Vivaan glanced at the hammer in the old man’s hand.
“But what am I supposed to do?”
The elderly man looked at him, then at the row of empty spaces along the field’s boundary.
It was becoming increasingly clear that the boy would not leave simply because he had been told to go home.
“All right,” he conceded.
“You can help me place the posts.
I’ll show you where they belong, and you can hold them upright while I secure them.
Don’t swing the hammer unless I tell you to.”
Vivaan’s expression brightened immediately.
“Understood!”
The old man demonstrated how to position the first post at the boundary.
Vivaan watched carefully, noting the distance between it and the next marker.
After the elderly man indicated the second position, Vivaan moved to it and held the wooden post steady.
“Like this?” Vivaan asked, keeping both hands around the post.
The old man checked its alignment.
“Exactly like that.
Keep it straight while I secure it.”
Vivaan concentrated on the task.
Whenever the elderly man finished with one post, the boy carried another into position.
They worked their way along the field, checking the distance between the posts and making sure the fence followed the boundary properly.
The work was not especially complicated, but it demanded patience.
A post placed at the wrong angle could leave a gap in the fence, while uneven spacing would make the entire line look crooked.
Vivaan noticed the problem before the old man pointed it out.
“This one’s leaning a little,” he observed, stepping back to inspect the row.
The elderly man looked over.
“You’re right.
Move its base slightly to the left.”
Vivaan adjusted the post until it lined up with the others.
The old man examined the result and nodded with approval.
“Good eye, kid.”
Vivaan grinned.
“I pay attention.”
“That much is obvious,” the elderly man replied, amusement returning to his voice.
They continued working.
The sun rose higher, the breeze carried the scent of fresh earth, and the sounds of the Agriculture Division surrounded them: farmers calling to one another, water flowing through irrigation channels, and tools tapping against wooden posts.
Vivaan occasionally asked questions about the fields, the crops, and the fence.
The old man answered what he could while continuing his work, sometimes explaining why a particular boundary needed to be reinforced or why the posts had to be placed at regular intervals.
Vivaan listened closely.
He was not simply trying to finish the task.
He genuinely wanted to understand what they were doing.
Eventually, the final post was secured.
The elderly man stepped back, planted his hands on his hips, and examined the completed fence.
The line was straight, the spacing consistent, and the boundary clearly marked.
He nodded with satisfaction. Get faster updates on g.com.
“Excellent!
That’s a fine piece of work.”
Vivaan wiped his hands together, looking pleased.
“We did it!”
The old man turned toward him.
“We certainly did.
And you contributed more than I expected, little one.”
Vivaan beamed at the praise.
Together, they gathered the remaining tools and returned to the path.
The elderly man put on his shoes while Vivaan retrieved his own.
After brushing away the loose soil, the boy slipped them on and tied the laces.
The old man watched him finish, then reached into a small cloth pouch attached to his belt.
“Here,” he said, offering Vivaan a handful of sweets wrapped in a clean piece of paper.
“Take these.
You earned them.”
Vivaan accepted the sweets with both hands.
“Thank you!”
He unwrapped one and tasted it.
His eyes brightened slightly.
The elderly man folded his arms and waited for the verdict.
“Well?” he asked.
“How do you like it?”
Vivaan considered the flavor with the seriousness of a royal judge evaluating an important matter.
“It’s good,” he concluded.
“But it’s not as good as the sweets my Mom makes by hand.”
The elderly man stared at him.
Vivaan ate another bite, entirely unaware of the dilemma he had created.
The old man looked down at the remaining sweets in his pouch, then back at the boy.
He could not decide whether he should feel proud that the child liked them or offended that they had failed to defeat his mother’s cooking.
“Well, that’s a rather difficult review to compete with,” he muttered.
Vivaan laughed.
Before the old man could ask another question, a familiar voice called from farther along the path.
“Vivaan!”
The boy turned toward the voice.
Adhira Vardhanya was approaching from the avenue, her expression caught somewhere between relief and disbelief.
Her gaze moved from Vivaan’s dirt-streaked shoes to the elderly man, then to the newly completed fence behind them.
She stopped a few steps away and placed one hand on her hip.
“Vivaan,” Adhira repeated, raising an eyebrow, “would you care to explain why I find you helping an elderly farmer build a fence in the middle of the Agriculture Division?”
Vivaan looked at her, then glanced at the fence as though seeing it for the first time.
A cheerful smile spread across his face.
“I was exploring, and he needed help!”
Adhira pressed her lips together, trying not to smile.
“Of course you were.”
The elderly man turned toward Adhira.
Recognition dawned on his face, and he began to straighten his posture.
“Grand Elder Adhira—”
Adhira lifted one hand gently, stopping him before he could continue with a formal greeting.
Her attention remained on Vivaan, who was already examining the sweets in his hand and apparently considering whether he should offer her one.
The elderly man noticed that gesture.
Then he looked back at the boy standing beside him.
His expression grew thoughtful.
This child really has no idea how much attention he attracts.
Adhira stepped closer to Vivaan and glanced at the hammer resting beside the fence.
“Tell me something, little adventurer,” she said, lowering herself slightly to meet his gaze.
“Does your mom know where you are?”
Vivaan’s smile remained perfectly bright.
“She told me not to go too far.”
Adhira’s eyebrow rose another fraction.
“And you decided that helping with agricultural fencing was an excellent way to follow that instruction?”
Vivaan paused.
He looked toward the endless fields, then at the elderly man, and finally back at Adhira.
“Well,” he replied thoughtfully, “I didn’t go too far.
I just found something interesting.”
For a moment, Adhira had no answer.
Then she laughed, shaking her head.
“You’re definitely your mom’s son.”
The elderly man lowered his gaze, hiding a smile behind his long white beard.
Vivaan, however, had already noticed something else.
Adhira had not simply been passing through the Agriculture Division.
She had been looking for him.
And judging by the way her expression had changed when she found him, she had something more important to say.
Vivaan tilted his head, his Cosmic Galaxy Eyes following her closely.
“Grand Elder Adhira,” he asked, “did something happen?”
Adhira’s smile softened, but her eyes briefly shifted toward the road leading back to the central districts.
“Nothing you need to worry about right now,” she answered.
“I was just looking for you.”
Vivaan studied her expression for another moment.
He knew she was leaving something unsaid.
Before he could question her further, Adhira extended her hand toward him.
“Come on.
I’ll walk with you for a while.”
Vivaan glanced at the elderly man.
“Thank you for letting me help with the fence!”
The old man smiled warmly beneath his long white beard.
“You’re welcome, kid.
And remember—there’s always work for a willing pair of hands.”
Vivaan nodded, then turned back toward Adhira.
As they began walking along the sunlit road, the elderly man watched them disappear between the rows of trees.
His gaze lingered on the boy’s midnight-blue hair and the eyes that had briefly reminded him of a night sky alive with stars.
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
“Her Majesty’s son,” he murmured to himself.
“What an interesting child.”
Farther down the avenue, Vivaan continued walking beside Adhira, finishing his sweet while wondering why she had been searching for him.
And Adhira, despite her best efforts to appear casual, was beginning to suspect that finding Vanshika’s son wandering alone might turn out to be the least surprising part of her day.
To Be Continued…