As the first light of dawn broke through the horizon, painting the sky in soft hues of orange and pink, Ekantika stood near the towering statue, a sense of unease creeping up on her. The sculpture depicted a wise old sage, carved out of dark granite, with majestic hands outstretched toward the heavens, as if blessing the land below. Surrounding the statue, the five villages were slowly waking up, yet their distant chatter felt muffled by the early morning fog.

"Where is this, and why are we here?" Ekantika asked, her brows furrowed in confusion. They had been on the road all night, hurriedly transporting Adishesh's father.