After dinner, a gentle warmth lingered in the air as soft voices floated through the village. Families, including Raghavan's, stepped out of their huts, stretching their limbs and strolling short distances from their homes to greet neighbors and share lighthearted conversation.
It was a quiet, uncomplicated life. In the fading twilight, laughter mingled with the gentle crunch of feet on the dry earth.
Inside the hut, Meera carefully placed Kaira on her small bed, assuming the baby had already drifted into peaceful sleep. Unbeknownst to her, Kaira was wide awake, merely pretending to sleep while maintaining a mental link with her feathered companion, Pikku.
Far above, Pikku glided silently over the treetops, its night vision active. Through their shared connection, Kaira watched the world below. After a few steady loops, she spotted the same travelers she had seen earlier.
Their carriage remained in place beneath the forest canopy, still immobilized by the broken wheel.
A small fire burned nearby, where a mother and daughter sat huddled close, worry flickering in their eyes as they glanced toward the dark woods.
Kaira observed them in silence for a while longer. There was no sign of threat or deception. The group appeared exhausted but sincere—their movements careful, their words hushed. She gently leaned into her thoughts and came to a conclusion.
"They don't seem dangerous. They just need help."
Focusing through her link with Pikku, Kaira began crafting a solution. She mentally reconstructed the broken wheel, using the remaining intact wheels as reference.
Slowly, with careful concentration, she shaped a replacement wheel using her energy, channeling it through Pikku's form. It was a tedious process—creating remotely through her companion required more effort and control than usual. Midway through, the connection flickered.
"Hm... the link's unstable. I'll need to improve that in the next upgrade," she noted to herself.
Still, she pressed on. Once the wooden wheel was fully formed and matched the others perfectly, she guided Pikku downward. With silent wings, the bird descended and dropped the new wheel gently onto the roof of the carriage.
A soft thunk.
The travelers immediately sprang to alertness, hands reaching for whatever weapons they had.
But as they cautiously inspected the roof and discovered the wheel—an exact replica of the one they'd lost—they froze in disbelief.
An older man stepped forward, slowly lifting the wheel from the carriage roof. He examined its craftsmanship, his eyes widening with astonishment. "This... this is exactly what we needed."
Gasps of surprise and relief followed. The mother, clutching her daughter, looked up at the sky with misty eyes. "Thank you... whoever you are."
With fresh hope, they set to work, replacing the broken wheel as quiet gratitude hung in the air.
Meanwhile, Pikku circled once before gliding away, vanishing into the night sky under Kaira's silent command. Hidden safely in her bed, a small, contented smile touched her lips as her companion returned, invisible beneath the stars.
Next morning.
Inside the Raghavan household, Kaira lay quietly in her cot, half-covered by a thin cloth. Though her eyes remained closed in a perfect display of baby-level "sleep jutsu," her mind was anything but idle.
A soft breeze stirred a loose strand of her hair, while Pikku, perched patiently on the windowsill, remained in standby mode.
Just then, a polite knock echoed against the wooden doorframe.
"Is anyone home?" came the familiar voice of Teacher Samira.
"Oh, Teacher! Please come in," Meera said, quickly wiping her hands on the edge of her saree as she welcomed her guest.
Raghavan stepped in from the courtyard, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Teacher Samira, what brings you so early today?" he asked with a curious smile.
Teacher Samira's expression was calm but tinged with seriousness. "I've come with a warning for all the villagers. Please avoid entering the Jīvāvana Forest for the next few days. Something unusual is stirring—both spiritually and naturally."
Meera exchanged a worried glance with her husband. "Is it dangerous?"
Samira gave a small nod. "There have been reports of strange lights and subtle tremors near the central grove. Even the medicinal herbs are reacting—they've begun glowing after harvest, which is unheard of."
Raghavan listened intently before nodding in understanding. "Thank you for the warning, Teacher. Fortunately, I gathered more than enough herbs yesterday. We have no problem for at least a month."
Relief flooded Meera's face, and she pressed her palms together. "Thank the stars. At least we won't have to worry about money."
Teacher Samira gently rested a hand on Meera's shoulder. "Still, remain cautious. And please share this warning with neighbors and any travelers you come across. Jīvāvana is older than this village… and sometimes, it remembers things we've long forgotten."
With that cryptic note, she stepped outside to continue her rounds to the other households.
Back in her cot, Kaira cracked one eye open and sighed inwardly.
"So… the forest is acting up , huh?" she thought.
She rolled slightly and turned her attention to Pikku Mark-6, who remained motionless yet alert. Her latest upgrade had extended Pikku's operational range to 50 kilometers and boosted flight speed to 400 km/h.
But that wasn't all—the newest version included a 400-square-foot internal storage compartment and allowed for real-time auditory sharing.
"Time to stretch those new wings," Kaira thought, a mischievous glint in her mental voice.
With a subtle nudge of willpower, she activated the connection. A faint tingle spread across her temples as her vision shifted seamlessly into Pikku's perspective. Her physical body remained still in the cot, but her awareness soared into the skies.
Pikku streaked above Amritpura like a silent comet, blue and white wings cutting through the morning air. The village quickly shrank beneath her, giving way to the vast, mysterious sprawl of the Jīvāvana Forest. Despite Teacher Samira's warning, it looked as lively and enchanted as ever.
A soft glow pulsed from within the canopy. Mushrooms shimmered like lanterns kissed by dew, and ancient stones sparkled faintly under blankets of moss. The forest radiated both magic and mystery.
"Let's see what's really going on," Kaira whispered to herself.
She guided Pikku lower, into a familiar clearing she'd marked during previous flights. To the untrained eye, everything seemed peaceful—but Kaira spotted the difference immediately.
The tree roots had subtly shifted their pattern. More importantly, the forest's energy signature, faintly perceptible through her growing sensitivity to Sakti, now felt jittery and unstable.
Hovering silently, she scanned the area.
No monsters. No bandits. Just an unsettling stillness, as if the entire forest were holding its breath.
Several areas stood out—patches where glowing plants pulsed too brightly, almost unnaturally. It wasn't the usual rhythm of life. It was overcharged. Alive, but... strained.
Then, just for a second, her connection with Pikku flickered.
"That's new…" she murmured mentally.
Rebalancing the signal, she adjusted the frequency flow. Her tiny fingers twitched faintly in the real world, unnoticed beneath her cloth blanket.
Suddenly, movement. In the distance, Pikku spotted something.
A rabbit? No—two of them.
But these weren't ordinary animals. Their fur shimmered with a faint violet glow, and instead of hopping, they running gently above the ground. As they passed through a cluster of glowing flowers, their trail left behind a flickering haze.
"What are those?" Kaira squinted through Pikku's eyes.
The two rabbits moved in perfect unison, silent and surreal. They glided across the clearing, then vanished behind a large, bioluminescent boulder.
Kaira zoomed out for a broader view. More than half a dozen areas now pulsed with intense magical energy. Trees, fungi, even the air shimmered with a charged current.
"Teacher Samira was right. This isn't just weird animal behavior… the forest itself is reacting to something."
She could feel it—something was brewing. A subtle pressure curled around the edges of her awareness. Whatever was happening wasn't isolated; it was building, like the quiet hum before a storm.
Kaira's instincts prickled.
"This isn't ordinary forest magic. This feels like the beginning of something far more important."
She mentally tagged the glowing zones, storing both visual and energetic data in Pikku's memory core. Once done, she sent a soft recall command.
With a swift beat of its wings, Pikku turned and soared home, disappearing into the horizon as silently as it had come.