Ishan left with Bhanu, disappearing into the crowd that had gathered to witness the earlier confrontation. Only when the two of them were gone did the onlookers finally breathe again. They were shaken — not by the clash itself, but by what it revealed.
That young man… who was he, that even Bhanu Kunji — the head of one of Sherpur's most powerful families — bowed before him? Yet, what struck them even more was Ishan's calm. True strength, they realized, doesn't roar in arrogance like spoiled heirs do. It stands still — quiet, steady, and untouchable.
Soon the crowd dispersed, and Bhanu's servants dragged the punished boy away as ordered.
Ishan and Bhanu entered the marketplace district of Sherpur. There, two long streets stretched on either side of a wide, glimmering river. Several wooden bridges connected the streets like delicate threads woven into a masterpiece. The lanterns, the shimmering river, and the laughter echoing in the air turned the entire market into a living painting.
Bhanu explained, "Today is the Festival of Wishes, the most beloved celebration in Sherpur. Every child here knows its story — even if no one remembers when it first began."
Ishan observed the bustling streets. Nearly every shop was selling small pyramid-shaped lanterns called Shara. Some were simple, some decorated with ribbons and embroidery, and others were so grand they clearly belonged to nobles. The entire city seemed to breathe with color and life.
Though there was nothing "modern" about this world, the beauty here felt more complete.
As they walked through the glowing market, Ishan too bought one Shara. After all, he was leaving tonight — but before his departure, he wanted to experience this world's joy, even if just for a moment.
An hour passed in warmth and laughter before they returned to the Kunji residence, now fully decorated to welcome Ishan.
The Kunji Residence
Bhanu greeted him with both pride and humility. "Young Master, welcome to this humble servant's home. Thank you for granting me the honor to serve you once again."
Ishan smiled softly, saying nothing. Bhanu clapped his hands, and servants hurried off to prepare a royal feast. Soon, a long table filled with fragrant dishes awaited them.
The two spoke for nearly an hour — of the past, of Sherpur, of things unsaid. When Ishan finally rose to leave, Bhanu looked toward the night sky and whispered, "Master, your son truly carries your spirit. Please… return soon, with Madam."
Unaware of the weight behind those words, Ishan returned to his hotel. There, his caravan was already preparing for the night's departure. The sky had begun to glow orange — evening had fallen, and soon, the Festival of Wishes would begin.
Ishan walked to the old man everyone called Killer X, smiling slyly. "Old man, before we leave… why don't you light your Wish here too? Who knows — maybe your long-lost love will hear you."
Killer X smacked him lightly on the head. "Brat! Don't tease your elders. But fine — if you want to stay a little longer, we can."
Ishan squinted at him suspiciously, making the old man chuckle. "It's for you, kid — not me!"
"Sure, sure… for me, right?" Ishan grinned, ducking just in time as the old man's hand rose again. "Fine, fine! I'll go!"
Soon night arrived. The entire city gathered by the river, bridges, and banks glowing with thousands of floating flames. Every man, woman, and child held a Shara — a pyramid lantern crowned by a single, burning light. The scene was breathtaking — a moving sea of fire and hope reflected on the flowing river.
Ishan stood apart, a little away from the crowd. It had been two months since he arrived in this world — two months since his betrayal. There were moments he still remembered her — the one who had deceived him — but strangely, he felt no hatred now.
He whispered into the cool night, "Maybe it was my fault… for trusting the wrong person. Love doesn't ask for permission — it just happens."
He placed his Wish on the water, watching it drift away with the current. His final thought left with it:'You betrayed me, and yes… it hurt. But I hold no hatred for you. With this flame, I cut the last thread that tied us together.'
For the first time in a long while, he felt light.
Somewhere on Earth
At that very moment, on Earth, Rashika was attending a lavish party. Two months had passed since that fateful day — enough time for everyone to forget. Everyone but her.
Holding a glass of wine, she suddenly froze. A strange emptiness tugged at her heart — as if something precious, something truly hers, had been lost forever. Without reason, Ishan's face flashed in her mind, and her chest ached.
Meanwhile, as Ishan turned to leave, he noticed a familiar figure standing alone by the river. The old man — Killer X — holding a lantern of his own.
Curious, Ishan walked closer and overheard his soft, trembling voice."Rajani… I miss you dearly. I can't come to you yet, but one day soon, I will. And when that day comes, I'll spend the rest of my days with you and our little girl. That's my only wish."
Ishan's heart softened. For all his toughness, the old man carried pain deeper than most.
When Killer X turned and saw him listening, he froze — then blushed like a guilty child."What are you doing here, brat? If you're done, come on — we're late!"
Ishan smirked. "Oh, I'm done. But you, old man — I'm not sure what I just heard."
Before he could finish, Killer X grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away. Soon, they reached the waiting caravan. Rashika — now a member of their traveling group — called out, "Grandfather! Where were you? Hurry, or we'll be late!"
The old man simply nodded, taking the driver's seat as the caravan rolled forward under the moonlit sky.
Ishan, riding on horseback behind, looked back one last time. The city of Sherpur shimmered behind him — its bridges glowing, its river sparkling with countless drifting flames.
He whispered, "Goodbye… Sherpur. Goodbye, old life."
And thus began his journey — the path to reclaim strength, to uncover his lost family, and to rule once again.
For as his teacher once told him:"If you become strong enough, Ishan, you can even cut the threads of heaven itself and return to your own world."
He had a long road ahead — but his resolve was iron.
His goals were clear:To find his missing parents and grandfather.To build a family no one could ever harm again.And to rise high enough to hold the very heavens in his palm.
With that oath burning in his heart, They started their journey. after two days of travel Ishan turned his gaze forward as their caravan rolled under the grand stone arch.
Carved above it were three ancient words —"Lightning Dragon City."
The letters seemed to hum with power — a mystery he was yet too weak to understand.
As they halted before the guarded gates, the soldiers stepped forward to inspect them. But before the old man could even present his token, a loud voice called from within the city walls:
"Yo! Isn't that Miss Amrita's convoy? Finally here, huh? How was your journey, Miss Amrita?"
Another soldier barked, "Fools! How dare you delay Miss Amrita's group? Don't you know who they are?!"