Swetha sat in the back of the van, her hands tied, her face covered. The rough cloth against her skin carried the stench of sweat and gasoline, making it harder to breathe. The van’s tires hit an uneven patch of road, shaking her body as she tried to steady her thoughts.

She wasn’t afraid.

Her only thought was Arya.

He would save those girls. He had to.

Her mind wandered, questioning the mystery that was Arya. Why does he do this? Why does he take such risks for wandering souls?

She exhaled slowly, whispering into the silence, "Arya… I’m coming to you, with hope."

A sharp intake of breath came from the woman sitting beside her.

"Arya?" The woman’s voice was hesitant. "What did you just say?"

Swetha turned her head slightly. Until now, she hadn't even realized someone else was there.

"You know him?" Swetha asked cautiously.

The woman was silent for a moment before replying, "I knew an Arya… he was a family friend."

Swetha’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be the same Arya? Or is it someone else?

Trying to confirm, she asked, "What did he do?"

The woman’s voice softened, as though speaking about something distant yet deeply painful. "He helped wandering souls fulfill their last wishes."

Swetha’s breath caught in her throat. It is him.

"Really?" she whispered. "I was searching for him… I thought only the dead could find him, but he’s alive?"

A painful pause. Then the woman replied, her voice breaking, "No… you can’t see him."

Swetha felt something shift in the air. "Why…? Why do you say that?"... "Why are you here?"

"I tried to kill Rajavarthan yesterday, but his goons caught me. Now, they’re taking me to him," the woman replied.

"Why were you trying to kill him?" Swetha asked.

The woman clenched her fists. "Because he killed my father… and Arya."

Swetha’s eyes widened in shock. "What? He killed Arya?"

The woman nodded. "Yes. He killed Arya when Arya tried to kill Rajavarthan to fulfill my father's last wish."

Swetha asked, "Can you explain briefly who he is and how it happened?"

The woman took a deep breath, her voice heavy with memories.

"I am Nandhini."

She paused for a moment, as if gathering the strength to speak.

"Arya and I grew up together. We were neighbors, best friends… more like family. Both of us had lost our mothers when we were young, and our fathers were always away at work. That left just the two of us—spending our days playing, watching cartoons, and finding comfort in each other’s company."

Her voice wavered as she continued.

"Then… everything changed when Arya was in 10th standard."

A deep sorrow clouded her eyes.

"His father was diagnosed with cancer. The man fought bravely, but as the days passed, he grew weaker. On his deathbed, he looked at Arya with regret in his eyes."

His frail voice trembled.

'I always wanted to attend our temple festival… the one that happens once every ten years. It’s in just ten days… but I won’t make it.'

Tears welled in Arya’s eyes as he held his father’s hand.

But before he could say anything—his father took his last breath.

And just like that… he was gone.

Ten Days Later…

The town was alive with the sounds of temple bells and festival celebrations. But Arya wasn’t there to witness any of it. He was working at a small tea shop, barely making enough to survive.

That’s when I ran toward him, breathless.

"Arya…!"

He barely looked up, exhausted from the day’s work.

"What is it, Nandhini? I have a lot to do."

But I grabbed his wrist, my voice urgent.

"Your father’s soul… it’s here."

His hands froze mid-motion.

I swallowed hard before continuing. "A beggar came to the temple… but he wasn’t just any beggar. Your father’s spirit entered his body and tried to attend the festival. But a sage caught him and is trying to cast him out!"

Arya’s blood ran cold.

He didn’t wait to hear another word. In the next second, he was already running toward the temple.

At the Temple…

The temple courtyard was in chaos. People stood in a circle, murmuring in shock. At the center, the beggar knelt on the ground, his body trembling as the sage towered over him, his staff raised high.

"Leave this body at once!" the sage commanded, his voice echoing through the air.

The beggar—possessed by Arya’s father—folded his hands in desperation.

"Please… this is my last wish. I died without fulfilling it. Once the festival is over, I will leave on my own… just let me step inside the temple!"

But the sage’s eyes remained cold.

"This world does not belong to wandering souls. You cannot stay here."

And with that, he struck the beggar’s chest, chanting powerful mantras.

A blood-curdling scream filled the air as the soul was forcefully expelled.

The crowd gasped. Someone asked, "What happened to the spirit?"

The sage’s voice was calm, yet firm. "I sent it where it belongs."

Arya stood frozen.

His father was gone.

Forever.

He clenched his fists as tears spilled down his cheeks. Nandhini placed a hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t move.

After a long silence, he turned to her and whispered, "I’ll be back soon."

Without another word, he walked toward the sage.

A Decision That Changed Everything…

Standing before the sage, Arya spoke, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.

"Teach me how to see spirits… how to speak to them."

The sage studied him carefully. "That is not an easy path. It requires years of practice. You will have to leave everything behind—your home, your life—and stay with me. Will your family allow that?"

Arya’s lips pressed into a firm line. "I have no one left."

The sage’s expression didn’t change, but there was something in his eyes… something that said he understood Arya’s pain.

After a moment, he asked, "Why do you want to learn this?"

Arya looked him straight in the eyes.

"I need to send souls where they belong."

The sage gave a slow nod.

"Then, come with me."