Aditya sat quietly on the balcony, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. It was the time of day when the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The evening breeze brushed against his face, carrying with it the faint scent of freshly cut grass. His thoughts were elsewhere, however, far from the beauty of the moment. He was still processing the conversation he'd had earlier with Fendrel.
The day had been long, and Aditya had been left to manage the evening on his own. But it wasn't just the tasks that kept him preoccupied. It was the conversation he'd had with Fendrel before he left the talisman shop, about a young man named Kiran, whom Fendrel had spoken highly of.
"You saw the fire in him, didn't you, Aditya?" Fendrel had said. "That boy, he is something special."
"Yes," Aditya had replied, his voice thoughtful. "I did see something in him. He's not like others. He served all the guests today, without complaint. No discomfort, no anger. Just pure dedication."
Fendrel had nodded knowingly. "People don't often mature that quickly. But there's something in him. His hard work, his dedication—it makes him stand out."
Aditya had considered the words for a moment, then responded. "I see it too. It's rare to find someone who isn't driven by ego or quick rewards. He has potential, but potential isn't always enough. It's the right guidance that shapes it."
"I have one thing I don't understand," Fendrel had said, his voice soft. "Why don't you take him under your wing, Aditya? You and Dhruv could teach him what he needs to know."
Aditya had laughed softly, the sound of it tinged with a trace of irony. "Dhruv will be traveling in three years, as he always plans to. And as for me, I'm just a limit-breaker—a realm guy who knows how to push boundaries, but I don't know if I can teach him everything he needs to succeed."
"But you see, Fendrel, until you're around, he'll learn from you. And there's another reason—he won't leave his mom. You can offer him what no one else can."
The words had hit Fendrel harder than he expected. He had always been someone who believed that a person's journey was theirs to make. But Aditya's suggestion made him pause. Perhaps the boy needed more than just mentorship in his work. Perhaps he needed something deeper—values to guide him, lessons in perseverance, and the moral compass that would help him distinguish between right and wrong.
"I know," Aditya had admitted. "Sometimes people don't judge others with common sense. He's the type of person who's hard to understand at first glance. But I believe the perseverance will take him far. Or, it could take him down a path that ends too soon."
Fendrel had looked at him with understanding, his voice soft. "You know, teaching him could be more than just about skills. It could be about teaching him how to live—how to find balance between hard work and happiness, between duty and self-fulfillment."
Aditya had said, "That's why I brought him to you. Teach him for as long as you can, and when the time comes, let him find his own path." He handed Fendrel 100 celestial gold coins. "This is for his apprenticeship."
Fendrel looked at him, a raised eyebrow betraying his curiosity. "You seem to be quite fond of this boy."
Aditya's gaze softened, but he only shrugged. "Maybe."
Then, Fendrel had asked a question that had caught him off guard.
"Forget about Kiran for a moment. What about you, Aditya? What is your path?"
Aditya had looked at him, his eyes distant. "I don't care about what people think of me. I've never had anyone to care about me, and I've come to terms with that. My journey is about traveling the world, finding happiness along the way. In the end, it's about the freedom to live as I choose."
Fendrel had nodded, perhaps understanding, perhaps not. But the conversation had left Aditya with more questions than answers. He had never given his own path much thought—at least not in the way Fendrel had asked. It had always been about the next step, the next journey, without considering where it might lead or what it might mean.
But there was something deeper Aditya hadn't shared—something that had been gnawing at him for some time. Why do I keep going, even though I've been stabbed in the heart, both literally and figuratively? Why had Dhruv saved him all those years ago? Why had he taken the time to teach him things, to show him the ways of the world? These were questions Aditya had never truly confronted.
Let's see how the journey will go, he thought to himself, the uncertainty of it all hanging in the air.
The questions lingered, unanswered for now, but they tugged at him in a way they hadn't before. The path ahead was still unclear, but perhaps that was the point. He would walk it, step by step, and maybe, just maybe, the answers would come along the way.