“Every time I fall asleep, I wake up feeling lost. On my thirteenth birthday, I fell into a slumber for two days from which I never truly woke up. I can never remember the dreams that I have so I spend my days chasing the piece of me that I leave behind in my dreams. On a Tuesday when I was fifteen, I heard whispers when I woke up. I could not figure out where the voices came from, so I buried the memory of it. Now that you have called out to me, I finally feel complete. Please take me with you.”

I woke up at a grassy riverside. I felt the moist earth in my fingertips as I helped myself up. The red dirt rolled off my blue jeans. My feet dug into the earth as I wrestled to understand the shape of the figure charging at me.

‘WAIT RIGHT THERE!’, a white horse screeched as it halted before me.

I stumbled backward as it stared me down, a coat which shined brilliantly to complement its cold brown eyes which stared down at me. It had been saddled with an earthy brown leather that had been worn out and beaten. The stallion scanned my body as if I was an illusion coming to life.

‘State your name.’

‘Brenable Paresh.’ I whispered out to the cries of songbirds and animals.

‘Welcome Brenable, to Prithvi. You have been granted life from Mana.’

‘Were you the one that was calling out to me?’

‘Life and fate and intertwined, our meeting has been graced by powers beyond conception. I must ask that you come with me as these plains are unforgiving, more so if you have just been reborn.’

The horse gently lowered itself as I seated myself upon it. Its breathing had been deep but unfaltering as it rose once again.

The horse paced itself slowly to let me adjust to it.

‘For a horse that can speak, your saddle doesn’t seem to be in its best shape.’

The stallion moved to cover up the beaten saddle.

‘I had been raised by an elderly couple on a ranch. When they passed, I had left to see the open world. They named me “Dil” after their son and gave me this saddle. Soon after, I heard the voice of the Mana guiding me to travel west and find a child born from Mana.’

‘I lived a life before I woke up here, there is no way that I was born from something in this world.’

A silence fell upon the conversation. The lull was interrupted by the rhythmic beating of Dil’s hooves. As I wondered about the meaning behind Mana and the voices Dil had heard, the world had been grasped by a stillness where neither the rustling of leaves nor the flapping of a butterfly’s wings could be heard. My mind went blank as the world itself halted around me, frozen in the silence. Voices crept up my mind.

‘Mana. The lifeblood of Prithvi. To use the lifeblood is akin to being loved by Prithvi. You are loved.’

The chant had been sung with a melody and peppy voice. A voice that seemed distant, dreamlike, and doctored. “Why me?” I thought to myself. It is strange that I, who is from Earth, would be loved by another world to the point of being brought to it. Why was it able to see me on Earth and why had it not loved others from Earth? Are people from Prithvi not loved? Is this “mana” m-; a calmness washed over me. I should be grateful that I am able to enjoy a carefree life here. My mind cleared as everything fell into place. The darkness washed away as Prithvi felt to be cloaked with a warm glow. My skin felt the warmth as though crossing the gentlest of rivers to the beating of Dil’s hooves which carried me through the Mana.

‘You are loved Brenable, the mana must course through your veins. Nature itself guides us to where you need to be.’ said Dil as he stopped his gallop over a hilltop.

Below the horizon, I saw a familiar view. The uniform rectangles of a budding townscape called to me. Dil looked back at me as I steeled myself. “I don’t feel lost, this is where I need to be, and this is where I will make my name.”

‘Dil, I am new around here so how about we stick together.’

‘Of course. I was born to serve someone great after all.’

Dil strode down the hill at a frightening speed. The beat of his gallop hastened as he said, “You better hold on tight.”

With the rumbling of thunder and the sudden appearance of thunderclouds, Dil’s mane spiked up with static. As he looked to the clouds, Dil bellowed, ‘Prakash ki gaati.’

In an instant, we stood in front of the town as the clouds parted.