Four months had passed.
The village that once spat at strangers now sang at sunrise.
The broken shrine had been rebuilt with turmeric-painted stones.
The streets were swept daily.
The children played without fear.
And in the center of it all stood a small, crooked building with a mango-shaped emblem carved above the door.
The Goat School.
The School of Equals
Dhira had built it with his own hands—planks from broken carts, walls of woven reeds, a roof stitched with banana leaves.
Inside, there were no ranks.
No castes.
No titles.
Just mats, mangoes, and questions.
Dhira taught everything he knew—terrain reading, goat mimicry, mango physics, basic spear drills, and how to dodge a flying broom.
The elders taught him herbal lore, ancient riddles, and how to make rice last through drought.
The children taught him how to laugh louder.
The Goat School became a place where everyone was equal.
"Like goats," Dhira said. "No one asks a goat its lineage. They just follow the one who climbs best."
The Day of Departure
The morning of their departure was heavy with emotion.
The entire village gathered at the edge of the road.
There were garlands.
There were mangoes.
There were tears.
Dhira stood beside his five followers—now local legends, known for their chaotic heroism and mango-based defense tactics.
The children clung to their legs.
The elders bowed.
Even the goats bleated in farewell.
"You gave us more than help," said Keshav, the elder. "You gave us ourselves."
Dhira smiled.
"We just stirred the milk. You made the curd."
The villagers laughed.
And cried.
And waved.
And the storm walked on.
The Bear Incident
Two days into their journey, they reached a dense forest near the river Kaveri.
The trees were thick.
The air was damp.
And the growl came without warning.
A black bear, massive and furious, emerged from the underbrush.
Dhira stepped forward, calm.
But his followers blocked him.
"Boss," said the first, "let us defend you."
"We've trained."
"We've sparred."
"We've eaten mangoes."
"We're ready."
Dhira raised an eyebrow.
"You're sure?"
"Absolutely."
The first stepped forward.
The bear slapped him across the face with one paw.
He flew backward into a bush.
"I'm okay," he mumbled. "Just checking the leaves."
The second charged.
The bear bit his bum.
He screamed.
The others laughed.
"You okay?"
"I think I lost a mango."
The third tried a flying kick.
The bear ducked.
He landed in a puddle.
The fourth tried to distract it with goat sounds.
The bear ignored him.
The fifth tried to throw a mango.
It bounced off the bear's nose.
The bear roared.
All five retreated behind Dhira.
"Avenge us, Boss!" they shouted.
"The bear is wicked!"
"The bear is cursed!"
"The bear insulted our mangoes!"
The Strike
Dhira sighed.
He reached into his satchel.
And pulled out Adolita.
A staff carved from ancient wood, wrapped in goat leather, etched with symbols no one could read.
It shimmered faintly in the sunlight.
The five followers stared.
"What's that?"
"This," Dhira said, "is Adolita."
"Cool name."
"What does it mean?"
Dhira stepped forward.
The bear roared.
Dhira didn't.
He moved once.
A single strike.
Clean.
Precise.
The bear stumbled.
Then turned.
Then fled.
The Revelation
The five followers ran to Dhira.
They stared at the stick.
"Boss," said one, "what is this weapon?"
"It's your elder brother," Dhira replied. "Very strong. Very wise."
They gasped.
"Elder brother?"
"But we're strong too!"
"We've trained!"
"We've eaten mangoes!"
"We've fought bandits!"
"We've been bitten by bears!"
Dhira handed them Adolita.
"Then prove it."
They tried everything.
They swung it against rocks.
They tried to bend it.
They tried to snap it.
They tried to bury it and dig it up to see if it got tired.
Nothing worked.
Not a scratch.
Not a dent.
Not even a wobble.
They sat around it, defeated.
Hands on their heads.
Tears in their eyes.
"We respect you, Elder Brother Stick," said one.
"Please don't slap us like the bear did," said another.
"We will train harder," said the third.
"We will eat more mangoes," said the fourth.
"We will never challenge you again," said the fifth.
Dhira smiled.
And the journey continued.