The air inside the guard's quarters had grown tense.
Anand sat on the wooden chair, trying his best to appear calm while being surrounded by armed guards who watched him like he was some kind of exotic creature—or worse, a hidden threat.
His belongings lay spread out on a low table.
His phone.
Torch.
Notebook.
Pens.
Thermos.
Each item had drawn curious, suspicious eyes.
And now—
Footsteps approached.
Measured.
Authoritative.
The guards straightened instantly.
"The Minister-in-Chief has arrived!"
The announcement snapped through the air.
A man entered.
Dignified.
Composed.
Carrying the quiet weight of authority.
This was Sumanth.
Every guard bowed deeply.
"Minister!"
Sumanth acknowledged them with a slight nod, his gaze already shifting toward Anand.
"So," he said calmly, "this is the traveler."
One of the guards stepped forward and quickly explained the situation—Anand's unusual attire, his strange belongings, and the uncertainty surrounding him.
Sumanth listened without interruption.
Then—
He stepped closer.
Stopping just a few feet from Anand.
His eyes were sharp.
Observant.
Taking in everything.
"Your name?" he asked.
Anand straightened slightly.
"Anand."
"And your purpose in Ayodhya?"
The question came smoothly, but Anand could feel the weight behind it.
He chose his words carefully.
"I came… to witness Ayodhya," he said. "Its glory. Its prosperity. I've heard it is a peaceful and just kingdom."
For a brief moment—
Something flickered in Sumanth's eyes.
Pride.
Subtle.
Controlled.
Gone just as quickly.
"Indeed," Sumanth said.
But Anand noticed.
Yep… hit the right note there.
Too bad I can't say I know your entire storyline and just want to meet Rama…
He kept his face neutral.
Sumanth continued.
"How long do you intend to stay?"
Anand froze.
"…Uh."
That—
He had not prepared for.
His mind scrambled.
How long?
I didn't even think that far…
"…I—"
Before he could finish—
Narada stepped forward.
Graceful.
Effortless.
"He travels as I do," said Narada. "We are wandering musicians. We intend to offer our art and, if fortune allows, present our music before the great King Dasharatha."
Anand blinked.
…Wait, what?
Sumanth turned toward Narada.
His gaze shifted.
Studied him.
The veena.
The posture.
The aura.
"…A musician," Sumanth said thoughtfully.
Then—
"Can you play?"
Narada smiled.
"With joy."
Sumanth gestured slightly.
"Then play. Let me judge whether His Majesty would find your art worthy."
Narada needed no further invitation.
He adjusted his veena.
Closed his eyes briefly.
And began.
The first note rang out—
Clear.
Pure.
Like a drop of water in a still lake.
Then another.
And another.
The melody grew.
Flowed.
Expanded.
Narada's fingers danced across the strings with effortless grace, each movement precise yet natural, as though the music itself guided him.
And then—
He sang.
His voice rose gently, weaving into the melody, carrying devotion within every syllable.
He sang of the unseen presence that lived in all things.
Of the creator who shaped existence.
Of love that bound the universe together.
Of devotion that transcended form.
He did not name Him.
He did not need to.
The feeling was enough.
The guards who had once stood rigid now found themselves still—not by duty, but by choice.
Even Sumanth's sharp gaze softened.
The tension in the room dissolved.
Replaced by calm.
By peace.
By something deeper.
Anand leaned back slightly.
"…Yeah," he whispered.
"This never gets old."
The music filled the space.
Time slowed.
Thoughts quieted.
And when the final note faded—
Silence followed.
Then—
Applause.
Not forced.
Not formal.
But genuine.
Sumanth nodded slowly.
"Remarkable," he said.
"You possess true talent."
Narada bowed his head slightly.
"I am honored."
Sumanth turned to the guards.
"This man shall be presented before the king," he declared. "I will personally introduce him."
Anand blinked again.
Well… that worked.
With his guard lowered slightly, Sumanth turned his attention back to Anand.
"These items," he said, gesturing to the table. "Explain them."
Anand nodded.
"They're not weapons," he said. "Just tools."
He picked up his phone.
"This is used… to play music."
Sumanth's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Music?"
"Yes."
"Demonstrate."
Anand shook his head.
"I cannot. Not now. It has limitations."
Sumanth frowned slightly.
"But… if I am given the opportunity," Anand continued quickly, "I can demonstrate it before the king."
That caught his interest.
"…Very well," Sumanth said. "I will consider it."
Then his attention shifted.
"To this."
He picked up the torch.
Anand smiled faintly.
"That produces light."
Sumanth raised an eyebrow.
"…This small object?"
"Watch."
Anand pressed the button.
A beam of bright light burst forth.
The guards stepped back instinctively.
Sumanth's eyes widened.
"…Impossible…"
The light cut through the dim room with startling clarity.
Anand switched it off.
"This light is limited," he explained. "Once it is gone, I cannot restore it."
Sumanth stared at the object.
"…Such a thing…"
His gaze sharpened.
"Where did you obtain it?"
Anand hesitated for only a fraction of a second.
"It was passed down in my family," he said.
Technically true.
Sumanth studied him.
Then nodded slowly.
"…A rare artifact."
He turned it over once more before placing it back.
"Bring this as well when you meet the king."
Anand forced a smile.
"Of course."
Sumanth then picked up the notebook.
He opened it.
And paused.
The paper.
Smooth.
Refined.
Unlike anything he had seen.
"…This craftsmanship…" he murmured.
He turned a page.
Then another.
His eyes narrowed.
Lines of writing.
Neat.
Precise.
But—
Unreadable.
"…What language is this?"
Anand tensed slightly.
"It's… my native script."
Sumanth continued flipping.
Then—
He stopped.
Blueprints.
Sketches.
Rough designs.
Instruments.
Mechanisms.
He leaned closer.
Understanding began to form.
"…These are designs," he said.
Anand's hand shot forward.
He grabbed the notebook.
"…That's private."
The room stilled.
For a moment—
Nothing moved.
Then Sumanth stepped back slightly.
Not offended.
Not angered.
But… thoughtful.
"I see," he said.
His eyes lingered on Anand.
"You are… more than you appear."
Anand said nothing.
Sumanth nodded.
"You will accompany me," he said. "Both of you."
He turned to a guard.
"Inform the court. I will present guests of interest to His Majesty."
The guard bowed and left immediately.
Anand began packing his belongings.
Carefully.
Methodically.
But inside—
His thoughts were racing.
I'm going to meet the king…
Dasharatha himself…
A slow grin formed.
This is big.
Really big.
As he slung the bag over his shoulder, a thought crept in.
If I can get close…
If I can earn favor…
Maybe…
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Maybe I can change things.
Fix things.
I know the story.
I can do something.
He looked ahead.
Toward the palace.
Toward destiny.
"…Yeah," he muttered.
"Let's see how this plays out."