The night after the rescue was quiet. The lodge was filled with sleepy voices and half-finished stories about the fall from the cliff. Everyone was tired, but the shock of what had happened still hung in the air.
Yeshwanth sat outside on the steps, looking at the stars. His hands were bandaged, and his body ached, but his mind was somewhere else.
He could still hear Nila's voice in the dark — her scared whisper, her trembling breath.
Inside, Nila sat by the window of her room. The soft yellow light touched her face. She was dressed in borrowed clothes from Keerthi. Her long hair fell to her shoulders as she stared at the hills outside.
She remembered the moment Yeshwanth had grabbed her hand, risking his life for hers.
Her chest felt heavy. She had met many brave souls in her world, but none like him — someone who didn't fight for power or pride, but out of kindness.
She closed her eyes and whispered, "Why does my heart ache like this?"
A Silent Arrival
Far above the mountains, a silver light flashed for a second and faded.
The God of Realms had arrived on Earth — not in his divine armor, but as an ordinary traveler. His white robes had turned into a simple shawl and long tunic. His glowing eyes dimmed to look human.
He walked slowly through the forest path, guided by the faint pull of his daughter's soul.
The night wind carried whispers from spirits that guarded the hills.
"She is safe," they murmured.
"Yes," he said softly, "but her heart is no longer the same."
The Morning After
The next morning, the forest rangers gave permission for the group to travel back to the town. Students packed their bags, still buzzing about the event.
Arjun teased, "Bro, you've become famous now. Everyone's calling you the cliff hero."
Yeshwanth shook his head. "Stop exaggerating."
Meera smiled faintly. "Well, you did something none of us could've done."
Nila, standing a few steps away, smiled too but didn't say anything. Every time her eyes met his, her heart raced. Something about him made her feel safe — and that scared her.
When they boarded the bus, a new passenger quietly joined at the last stop — an old man with kind eyes and a gentle smile. None of the students paid much attention to him, except Yeshwanth, who offered him his seat.
"You can sit here, sir," Yeshwanth said politely.
The man smiled. "Thank you, son. You have a kind heart."
Yeshwanth sat beside him, not realizing who he truly was.
The Test of Heart
As the bus moved through winding roads, the old man spoke again.
"You seem thoughtful, young one. Did something happen?"
Yeshwanth looked out of the window. "Not much, sir. Just… trying to understand life, I guess."
"Ah," the man chuckled softly. "Life is not meant to be understood. It is meant to be lived."
Yeshwanth smiled faintly. "Sometimes living feels harder than dying."
The old man's eyes softened. "And yet, you chose to live when you saved that girl."
Yeshwanth turned, surprised. "You know about that?"
"I heard people talking. You risked everything for her. Why?"
Yeshwanth took a long breath. "I didn't think. I just… couldn't watch someone fall when I could do something. Maybe I was too tired of doing nothing."
The man nodded slowly. "Even when your heart was heavy, you saved another. That is the mark of a pure soul."
There was a strange calm in his voice, almost divine.
Nila's Realization
Nila watched them from a few rows behind. She couldn't hear the full conversation, but seeing the way Yeshwanth spoke to the old man made her chest tighten again.
She thought, Why am I afraid to leave him?
Why does his pain feel like mine?
She pressed her hand to her heart, feeling the strange warmth that always came when he was near.
The old man turned slightly, meeting her gaze for a brief moment. In that second, she knew.
It was her father.
Her eyes widened, but he gave her a silent nod — a signal not to reveal anything.
A Stop by the River
The bus stopped near a riverbank for lunch. Everyone got down to stretch and eat. Yeshwanth walked a little away to wash his face in the cold water.
The old man followed him quietly.
"You remind me of someone I once knew," the man said.
Yeshwanth smiled faintly. "Someone good, I hope."
"Someone brave, yet broken inside," the man replied. "Tell me, boy, what do you wish from life?"
Yeshwanth hesitated. "Peace, maybe. To stop feeling like a burden. To be someone who matters."
The old man smiled gently. "You already are. You just haven't seen it yet."
He placed a hand on Yeshwanth's shoulder. In that moment, Yeshwanth felt a strange warmth spread through his body — like sunlight touching his soul.
He blinked, confused. "Sir… who are you?"
The man chuckled softly. "Just a traveler… passing through."
The Farewell
As the bus reached the town in the evening, Nila felt her time running out. The pull from her world grew stronger.
She knew she couldn't stay much longer.
When everyone got off, she turned to Yeshwanth.
"Thank you… for saving me," she said softly.
He smiled. "I didn't save you. We survived together."
She wanted to say more — that she wasn't from this world, that she didn't want to leave — but the words stuck in her throat.
The old man stepped forward, pretending to adjust his shawl.
"Nila," he said gently, "it's time to go home."
Her eyes filled with tears. "Father… not yet…"
Yeshwanth looked between them, confused. "Your father? I thought—"
The old man's eyes glowed faintly for a second, the divine light flickering through his disguise. Yeshwanth stepped back in shock.
"You—who are you?"
"I am just someone who protects what is precious," the man said calmly. "And she… is not meant to stay here."
Nila shook her head, crying softly. "I don't want to go… not yet. He doesn't even know who I am."
The God of Realms looked at Yeshwanth. "You will, in time. Destiny doesn't end here, my child. This is only the beginning."
Before Yeshwanth could speak, a soft light wrapped around Nila and her father. The glow rose like mist, fading into the evening air.
And then they were gone.
Emptiness
The bus stop fell silent again. Yeshwanth stood there alone, the wind brushing through his hair.
He felt as if something precious had been taken from him — something he didn't understand yet.
Arjun called from afar, "Yesh! You coming?"
Yeshwanth blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah… coming."
But inside, he felt a hollow ache.
That night, when he lay in bed, he dreamed of a girl with glowing eyes, standing under a moonlit sky.
She smiled sadly and whispered, "We'll meet again."
He woke up with tears he couldn't explain.
In the Realm
Far away in her divine palace, Nila stood by the silver balcony, staring down at Earth. Her father stood behind her silently.
"You disobeyed the laws of the realm," he said quietly.
"I know," she whispered. "But he saved me, Father. And he changed something in me."
The God of Realms sighed. "You're not meant to feel for a mortal."
She turned to him, eyes wet. "Maybe not. But hearts don't follow rules."
He said nothing — only looked toward the stars.
The Threads of Destiny
Back on Earth, Yeshwanth sat by the window of his hostel room, looking at the same stars. He didn't know her name, her truth, or her world — but he knew that his heart had begun to change.
Somewhere beyond the clouds, a small sparkle of light shone — the same glow that had surrounded Nila.
Two worlds.
Two hearts.
Bound by a moment, separated by fate.
And destiny… was only beginning to write their story.