"As the son of Maqbir, a retired shiqdar, I, Shailya, am honored to serve the Royal Malwai Army," Shailya announced, receiving his military certificate from Bakshi Shaturga.

Bakshi Shaturga stepped onto the stage and began speaking. "I, the Bakshi of the Royal Malwai Army, congratulate all the new military cadets of the Rajmahal Regiment. However, the drill is not over yet. All newly enrolled cadets must report to the Marinabad military base the day after tomorrow. You all need training, so I have scheduled a week of military training at Marinabad starting the day after tomorrow. Good luck."

"We are honored to have Bakshi Shaturga here, leading the young minds on a rightful path. You may return to your hometowns, but make sure to come back by the evening of the day after tomorrow. Event dismissed," announced Ganitvadev, the former military commander of the Sahanabad Regiment and the trainer in charge of the Royal Army's new cadet enrollment.

Everyone, exhausted yet excited, returned to their respective dorms to pack their luggage.

Shailya took his luggage and sat on a cart with another guy from the event, Sukheer. Shailya only had a few bucks, not enough for a cab ride, so he opted for a horse-drawn cart to the railway station.

"What is your name?" Sukheer spoke up first.

"Why do you want to know?" Shailya replied, showing no interest.

"Come on, I saw you at the event."

"Oh, I see," Shailya said, hiding his excitement that someone recognized him. "So who are you and what is your name?"

"I'm Shailya, son of Maqbir the shiqdar and grandson of Anbir, former commander of the Rajmahal Regiment," Shailya finally answered with a straight face.

"Oh, I see. Call me Sukheer. I'm not the son of a government official. My father is Edwin, an ordinary man."

"Edwin? Are you from abroad?" Shailya asked genuinely.

"Oh, no! I'm not a foreigner, but my grandfather was from Britain," Sukheer laughed.

"You have a different name from your dad. At first, you seemed to be of a different descent."

"Was I? Actually, my dad didn't want me to feel different from others, so he named me Sukheer, a common name at that time. But I am still a Christian."

"I see. I don't mind if you're Christian or Muslim."

"You're one of those secular beings, right?"

"You could say that."

"People who believe in secularism are rare these days. I hope that changes come in the future."

"It sure will. I promise you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I think we've reached the station."

"Yes, we have."

Both stepped down from the cart, paid the driver, and continued chatting as they entered the station.

"Where are you headed, Shailya?"

"Bikkan Station."

"You are from Bikkan? It's a big city."

"Indeed, but I'm not from Bikkan. I'm from Diwankula. There are no direct trains to Diwankula, so I need to stop at Bikkan and wait for the train to Diwankula."

"Diwankula! It's an amazing town. I've heard of it from my dad."

"Where are you going, Sukheer?"

"Veerni."

"That's the next stop from Bikkan."

"I know."

"Let's get our tickets."

"Sure."

Both went to the ticket counter and purchased two tickets—one for Veerni and the other for Bikkan.

"Passengers, the train from Saba to Indunagar, Train No. 765801, will arrive at platform no. 3 in 28 minutes," the lady announcer's voice echoed through the bustling station.

"Shailya, I think that was our train's announcement," Sukheer said, glancing at Shailya.

"Indeed, it was," Shailya confirmed with a nod.

"Let's wait at the platform."

"Sure."

They both made their way to the designated platform, finding a bench nearby where they sat, watching the seconds tick away on the station clock.

"I think we should meet at the training camp," Sukheer suggested, breaking the silence.

"Sure," Shailya agreed.

"But how can we contact each other?"

"We can write letters, but it's just a mere two days. Let's leave it to destiny."

"Destiny?"

"Yeah! If destiny wants us to meet, we will meet. If not, then some other day."

"Sure, as you say," Sukheer replied, a hint of embarrassment coloring his voice.

Three hours later, the train continued its journey through rolling fields and dense forests.

"I think the next stop is mine, Sukheer," Shailya said, preparing to disembark.

"Oh, is it? Then my stop is near too."

"Indeed."

The train slowed to a halt at Bikkan Station.

"Goodbye, Sukheer. It was great talking to you."

"Bye. I'm sure we will meet again."

Shailya stepped down from the train, the cool evening air brushing his face as he made his way to the local train bound for Dinki Station in the Diwankula District. Finally, he arrived in his hometown. The sight that greeted him warmed his heart—his father, mother, sister, and many familiar faces waiting at the station, smiles lighting up the night. It was a celebration in honor of the new cadet, Shailya.

"The celebration was good, wasn't it, brother?" Shailya's sister, Tanii, asked as they walked home together.

"It was, after a long time," Shailya replied, the joy evident in his voice.

"It has been months since our grandfather died in the war, and finally, all the townsfolk are able to celebrate something."

"Yeah! It has been a long time since all the townsfolk celebrated together."

"That makes you responsible for their happiness, brother."

"Uhm, true."

"Promise me you'll always keep us and yourself happy. You need to work hard, just like Sheena and her brother."

"I will, and I promise you."

"Thank you, brother, for everything."

"Oh, my little sister," Shailya said, smiling warmly as Tanii hugged him.

It was already midnight, and everyone went to bed, but Shailya remained awake, a restless energy keeping him from sleep.

"Why can't I sleep?" Shailya wondered aloud in his mind.

He put on his cloak and ventured outside, wandering through the quiet, dark streets of the town. He made his way to the Sacred Banyan Tree, a place he had loved since childhood. The tree stood tall and majestic, its long roots, huge trunk, and lush leaves casting a comforting shadow.

"Who is that guy at this time?" he wondered, spotting a middle-aged man in the distance.

The man wore a long black cloak, his mesmerizing eyes reflecting the moonlight. He wandered near the river, 400 meters east of the tree, seemingly lost in thought.

"Hey! Old man!" Shailya shouted, his voice piercing the stillness of the night.

The man ignored him, immersed in his own world. Determined, Shailya rushed towards him, determined to get his attention.

"Hey, old man, wait! I'm coming!" Shailya shouted again, running as fast as he could.

"Huff-Huff-Huff," Shailya panted as he reached the man. "Old man, why aren't you talking?"

"Just go away," the old man said, his voice tinged with frustration.

"I won't."

"How annoying can children be these days?"

"More than me, old man. By the way, who are you? I've never seen you in this town."

"Before that, tell me who you are."

"Me?" Shailya pointed at himself.

"Yes."

"Weren't you at the celebration last night?"

"Nope. What celebration?"

"The celebration that I returned home."

"What's so special about it? Everyone returns home after working."

"I got my military certificate, and now I'm Cadet Shailya of the Royal Malwai Army."

"I see. I'm Vahal. Call me Vahalla."

"Va-Vahalla?"

"Indeed."

"Isn't that name different from ours? Are you of Norse or any foreign European lineage?"

"No, son," he laughed for the first time during their conversation. "I'm from somewhere that not just you, but everyone on this planet is unaware of."

"So you're from some village, aren't you?"

"Nope. I'll tell you about myself when I feel it's the right time. How many days are you staying here?"

"Uhm... for two days."

"Fine, then we will meet tomorrow in the early morning."

"Say it today at dawn, old man."

Both of them parted ways and returned to their homes. Shailya finally went to bed and drifted off to sleep.

[To be continued in Chapter 2]