The sun rose, tossing away its blue ocean sheets, blinding yesterday's moon as she sailed past the clouds and dissolved into the light.

"Good morning, Mily!" Seasells' voice echoed inside me, warm and familiar, but still strange.

"Seasells?" I muttered, trying to sit up. Everything ached. "We... merged yesterday? Where are we?" I sat up in the sand. I touched my forehead.My head throbbed as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. I was in a strange seashore and the wild was nowhere near my eye sight.

Seasells filled me in on everything up until the merging ceremony, but he didn't seem to remember anything after that. His voice sounded confused, even distant, like he was trying to piece together fragments of a broken dream.

"Altras had asked us to leave the wild, away from the Thalava's army," Seasells said slowly, his voice echoing in my mind. "Maybe you ran till you got tired and then fell asleep..."

I sighed heavily, rubbing my temples. "I can't believe Thalava declared me a Goverri and that Iniya stood as a witness against me. The superstitious clan of Dhadhoodi will hate me even more now. They'll think now that the prophecy is a solid proof that I am a curse. In fact, Altras might be the only one who would still accept me in the wild..." My voice trailed off.

The weight of it all was crushing. Goverri, a title of disgrace, an enemy to the wild. I glanced down at the burn marks scattered across my skin—physical reminders of last night's chaos. I couldn't remember fighting anyone after the merge, but these wounds... .

Had I fought the Dhadhoodi warriors?

I got up slowly, feeling the heaviness of my body, the ache in my limbs. The air was different here—more still, more quiet. The whisper of Pluntis was barely audible, no rustling of ancient magic.

I was finally in the human world. Raghav's world.

I stared out at the unfamiliar landscape. He was here somewhere. Somewhere on this side of existence, just beyond my reach.

I would find him. I will even if it was the last thing that I do alive.

***********************************************************************************************

Years had passed in the human world, and with each passing day, I learned more about them—these beings who lived without magic but thrived on something else entirely: science. 

The Dhadhoodis always believed humans were careless, destructive, but I found that wasn't the whole truth. Some humans were so connected to Mother Nature, taking care of Pluntis(the plants) and even showing deep affection for Dhadhu(the animals), despite their inability to communicate with them.

It amazed me how far humans had come, building their world without magic, relying only on their intellect and inventions. But—and there was always a "but"—there were those who infuriated me.

Humans who, in their pursuit of progress, disregarded nature, poisoning the earth with their waste and greed. Didn't they see they were carving their own deaths with every careless act, every tree felled, every river polluted?

But all these years, no trace of Raghav.

I searched tirelessly. Every year, on the 12th of July, my birthday, I returned to the cliff where he used to throw letters from , hoping... hoping he'd be there.

But it seemed he had stopped coming. Each visit left me more desolate, my heart heavier. From the cliff I would looked down at my past__ the wild.

I wandered the streets, approaching men who I thought might be him, staring deep into their eyes, waiting for a sign—anything. But my amulet never turned pink.No matter how much I searched, the universe remained silent.

Raghav was out there, somewhere. I just had to find him.

The humans were a curious kind. Some even claimed to practice witchcraft, though their understanding of it was vastly different from what we Dhadhoodis knew. They stored their knowledge in a place they called a library, a sanctuary filled with books about everything imaginable. I loved spending hours there, losing myself in their stories, their histories, and their ideas. It became my favorite spot—a place where I could forget my sorrows, even if just for a while. Some humans were kind enough to give me food and money in exchange for small tasks, and I quickly learned to navigate this new way of life.

Money.

Ah, the humans' "god." The Dhadhoodis had spoken of it in disdain, and now I understood why. They didn't worship Lord Suryat or any deity of nature; instead, they worshipped these pieces of paper, sought so desperately that they would cut down countless Pluntis to make them. It broke my heart, yet it also intrigued me. How could something so lifeless hold so much power over an entire world?

Still, I adapted quickly. In this world, I didn't need to hunt for food or forage in the wild. All I had to do was help others with their chores, and in return, I was fed. This system of barter, though different, was surprisingly efficient.

But what truly captured my soul was art.

Humans expressed themselves in ways I had never seen before—through paintings, sculptures, and music. It reminded me of the days in the wild when I would carve inscriptions and paint portraits of my clan on wooden tablets. Creating art was like stepping into another world, a realm where my hands moved instinctively, pouring life and emotion into every stroke, every detail.

I was utterly out of the world when making art. It was my escape, my solace, and for a few blissful moments, it made me forget the ache of losing everything. Art became my new magic.

I sat in my favorite corner of the library, surrounded by the comforting silence of ancient tomes, with a book titled The Return of the Nagas spread open before me. Can you believe it? Humans had written about the Nagas, those majestic beings, without even knowing the depths of their truth. Intrigued, I delved into its pages.

The book was enchanting. For the first time in years, I felt a connection to the wild. Its descriptions of the Nagas were astonishingly accurate, as though the author had seen the Nagas with their own eyes. The characters were vivid, the stories rich, and the narrative flowed like the streams that once cradled my childhood. Each page felt alive, drawing me back into the embrace of the wild with every chapter.

But then, something caught my eye—a line break. At first, it seemed like an intricate pattern. But as I traced the symbols with trembling fingers, my heart thundered in my chest. Tadhooti  characters.

The language of the Dhadhoodi.

I stared in disbelief, the world around me dissolving into a haze. Flipping back through the pages, I saw it again and again. Every single line break bore the script of my people, hidden in plain sight. The realization struck me like a bolt of lightning: this wasn’t just a book—it was a secret message.

A message meant for someone like me.

With a surge of adrenaline, I pulled out a notebook and began to transcribe the symbols, desperate to uncover their meaning. As the words revealed themselves, their archaic beauty left me breathless.

" Long, long ago, there were those among the Nagas who wearied of their lives in the wild. Discontent with solitude and duty, they sought refuge amongst humankind, concealing their true forms beneath mortal guises. Yet, their departure was not without sacrifice, for they pledged a solemn vow: from every pair of twins born to their line, one would return to the wild, while the other would remain in the human realm—a guardian, a watcher of the Pluntis amidst humanity’s reckless dance with destruction."

"Thus were born the Urban Nagas—beings of limited power but infinite resolve, protectors of the wild even from afar. But as years turned to centuries, and centuries to millennia, the Naga lineage among humankind grew thin, diluted by the tides of time. Their sacred vow faded from memory, a shadow lost in the brilliant chaos of mortal life."

"Not all who carry their blood awaken to their heritage, for only a chosen few rise as Nagas, bound to the ancient covenant. They are whispers in the wind, protectors in the shadows, a legacy both forgotten and eternal."

My hands shook as I set down my pen, reading over the transcribed text again and again, each word hammering at the walls of my disbelief.

“Seashells, did you hear that?” My voice was a mixture of awe and terror.

“Of course, Mily. That means—”

I cut him off, the realization tumbling from my lips like a storm. “Altras is not the last Naga. And the prophecy—it isn’t him I’m destined to kill!”

The air around me seemed to crackle with an energy I hadn’t felt in years. My mind raced, trying to piece together the implications. If Altras wasn’t the last Naga, who was? And why had this message been hidden here, in the human world, waiting for someone like me to uncover it?

This wasn’t just a book. This was a key—a key to a truth that could unravel everything I thought I knew.

For the first time in years, I felt the thrill of purpose, a spark of hope. Somewhere, out there, was a piece of the puzzle I’d been missing. And I would find it.

No matter what it took I am gonna find these Nagas ... The wild will not die with Altras. I finally felt like my life had a purpose again.

But where would I find these Nagas? If they themselves have no idea how do I remind them that they are Nagas? Would they give consent to coming to the wild if  I told them that the wild would collapse without a Naga?

As the questions swirled in my mind, my desk vibrated. Through the window, I saw it: a call from the wild.

A small vortex spun on the ground, a handful of leaves dancing in the air with flecks of sand. Humans wouldn’t even glance at it, dismissing it as some quirky breeze. But I knew better.

It wasn’t the first time the wild had called me like this. But every other time, the vortex had dissipated before I could reach it. Not today.

Driven by a newfound energy, I threw the window open and leapt out, racing toward the swirling leaves.

If there are others, the wild must want me to find them, I thought, my heart beat rising .

This time, I made it. I reached the vortex just as it began to shrink. Without hesitation, I plunged my hand in—and the world dissolved around me.

“Mily, won’t you ever let me sleep inside of you peacefully?” Seashells muttered somewhere, annoyed.

Before I could respond, a gust of force rushed through me, and I was pulled forward.

When the whirlwind stilled, I found myself in the middle of a lake. My first surprise? I was wearing a lifeguard's uniform.

My second surprise? A crocodile stared at me, its sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight.

The third surprise? A young, terrified man flailing in the water,  a girl a few metres away who seemed to have turned into a statue wearing a life jacket.

I blinked, trying to process it all.

“Right. So... this is happening,” I mumbled, eyeing the crocodile.

The pieces began to fall into place. The girl must have fallen, and the man had jumped in after her. A rescuer. Hmmm one of the rare kind humans .

I shot him a quick, reassuring smile before turning back to face the crocodile.

I bent forward to make sure the humans didn't hear me talk and asked softly, “Hey there, tough guy! What’s with the murdery vibes? I’m Mily, and you are?”

The crocodile bared his teeth in a wicked grin. “Tiago. Tiago the Thunder. And you must be a Dhadhoodi. What brings you here, tree-hugger? Fell off a tree and landed in the wrong side of the world?”

Mily smirked. “Funny. So, Tiago, is it really necessary to eat that guy over there?”

Tiago huffed, his tail sending ripples across the water. “Is it necessary? IS IT NECESSARY?! This human trespassed into my territory. This is a matter of pride, Mily! Pride and tradition! Humans enter, humans exit—preferably in pieces.”

Mily rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Tiago. You’re telling me a big, strong crocodile like you is worried about tradition? What are you, a 300-pound river grandma?”

Tiago bristled. “I’ll have you know I am feared! I am respected! If I let this guy go, the Dhadhu (animals) will mock me. ‘Oh, look at Tiago,’ they’ll say. ‘Couldn’t even handle one measly human.’ My reputation will be ruined!”

Mily swam closer, grinning. “Tiago, Tiago, Tiago... are you seriously trying to impress a bunch of river rats and frogs? Let’s be real—they’re not even your target audience.”

Tiago paused, blinking. “Well... no. But it’s the principle, Mily! Humans are the worst. They cut down Pluntis, pollute our rivers, and build their stupid ‘resorts.’ I mean, look at this guy! What if he’s scouting for a water park?”

Mily glanced at the man, who was clinging to a log and hyperventilating. “Tiago, does he look like a water park tycoon? He’s probably just trying to impress that girl over there.”

Tiago squinted at the zipline above them, then snorted. “Pfft. Pathetic. Humans are always doing dumb things for love. No sense at all.”

Mily smirked. “Exactly! So why waste your energy on him? You’ve got plenty of fish, don’t you?”

Tiago puffed up his chest. “I do have plenty of fish. The dam’s full of them. And they don’t trespass.”

“See? You don’t need to eat him,” I tried my best to sound persuasive.

Tiago narrowed his eyes. “Need? Mily, this isn’t about hunger. It’s about making a statement. If I spare him, I’ll look soft!”

Mily patted his snout. “Oh, Tiago, you’re already soft. On the inside. Like a gooey marshmallow.”

“Marshmallow?! I am Tiago the Thunder! The terror of the waters!”

She grinned. “Alright, ‘Terror of the Waters,’ how about a compromise? Let him go, and I’ll tell Sher the King how scary and merciless you were. And the dhadhu in the wild will create a ballad about how strong Tiago the thunder is!.”

Tiago mulled it over, then sighed. “Fine. But I’m cursing him. That’s non-negotiable.”

Mily blinked. “Cursing him? Really? What kind of curse are we talking about here?”

“From this day forth,” Tiago declared, his voice dripping with drama, “he shall never enter water again. No swimming, not even wading. I, Tiago the Thunder, have placed the curse of the reptiles on that man!”

Mily snorted. “Wow. That’s... oddly specific. Let’s hope he’s not an Olympic swimmer.”

Tiago grinned smugly. “I’m a crocodile of focus and precision, Mily. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just bite off a limb for good measure.”

“WHAT?!” Mily shrieked. “No, Tiago! No limb-biting!”

“Just one! He won’t even miss it!” Tiago argued, inching closer to Raghav.

“No biting, no nibbling, no grazing!” Mily planted her hands on her hips. “Be a good boy, Tiago. No teeth!”

Tiago groaned, sinking lower into the water. “Fine. But only because you asked, Mily. You owe me.”

Mily smiled and patted his snout. “I’ll write you a glowing review. Five stars for Tiago the Terrifying Thunder.”

Tiago grumbled something about being “too kind for his own good” before disappearing beneath the surface, leaving only a trail of bubbles.

I waded towards the girl and pulled her towards the shore.

The man stood staring like he had seen a ghost.

"How long are you planning to stay inside the water and stare at me? Till the crocodile comes back?" , I asked him.

My quick question made him turn red.

Hmm.. Weird guy......