The smoke they had seen the day before led them to a wide stretch of higher land where the floodwaters had barely reached.
Here, the ground was firmer. Grass had already begun to grow in patches, and a shallow river flowed calmly through the plain.
Dozens of people had gathered there.
Some were humans.
Some were asuras.
All were survivors.
They had built simple shelters from wood and cloth, and small fires burned at the center of the camp. The air was filled with tired voices, but also with the sound of work and cooperation.
Ganesh stopped when he saw them.
"This place is different," he said. "There's no fear here."
Aneet nodded. "They're rebuilding together."
Keral stared at the camp, his eyes narrowing as he recognized some of the dark-skinned figures moving among the people.
"Asuras," he said quietly. "And they're not hiding."
They walked closer.
At the edge of the camp, a tall asura woman stepped forward, her posture cautious but not hostile.
"Who are you?" she asked. "This land is open, but we protect our own."
Keral stepped ahead of Ganesh and Aneet.
"My name is Keral," he said. "I walk dharma. And I walk without a banner."
The woman studied him carefully.
Then her eyes widened slightly.
"You're the one they hunt," she said. "The one who refused both sides."
Keral nodded. "Yes."
She glanced behind her at the camp.
"Then you should come," she said. "We have many like you here. Those who are tired of war."
They were welcomed inside.
The camp was a mix of broken families, wandering asuras, and humans who had lost their homes. They shared food, guarded the perimeter together, and worked side by side to build shelters.
No one asked what race anyone belonged to.
They only asked, "Can you help?"
Keral walked among them, speaking quietly, listening.
Ganesh watched him closely.
For the first time since they had met him, Keral did not look like a wanderer.
He looked like someone who had found ground that could carry his weight.
That evening, as the sun dipped low, Keral sat with Ganesh and Aneet near the river.
"This place…" he said slowly, "it feels like the road brought me here on purpose."
Ganesh smiled faintly. "Most roads do."
Keral looked at the flowing water.
"I walked with you because I wanted to know if a path without banners truly existed," he said. "Now I see it does. But it doesn't need me to keep walking."
Aneet understood at once.
"You want to stay," she said.
Keral nodded.
"These people need someone who understands both sides," he said. "Someone who won't let fear turn into hatred again. I can do that."
Ganesh studied him.
"And your wandering?" he asked.
Keral smiled.
"I think my wandering was only meant to bring me here."
They spent the next day helping the camp.
Ganesh taught them how to reinforce shelters against rain and wind.
Aneet organized patrols and food sharing so no one was left out.
Keral worked with both humans and asuras, settling small arguments before they could grow.
People began to look to him naturally.
Not as a ruler.
But as someone steady.
By evening, the choice was clear.
Keral stood with Ganesh and Aneet near the edge of the camp.
"I won't walk with you anymore," he said. "Not because I don't want to. But because my road ends here."
Ganesh nodded slowly.
"You're choosing to stand," he said. "That takes more courage than walking."
Aneet stepped forward and placed her hand on Keral's arm.
"You won't be alone," she said. "But you will be tested every day."
Keral smiled. "Good. I've had enough of easy days."
He looked at Ganesh.
"You once told me strength isn't why we walk," he said. "It's because we refuse to stop. I think now… I refuse to stop running from responsibility."
Ganesh smiled. "Then you've learned what you came to learn."
They stood in silence for a moment.
Then Keral bowed his head deeply to both of them.
"I walked as an exile," he said. "I leave as someone who belongs somewhere. That is because of you."
Ganesh shook his head.
"No," he said. "That is because you chose it."
Aneet smiled. "Walk well, Keral. Even if you don't walk far."
Keral laughed softly. "And you two… don't let the road turn you into strangers."
"We won't," Ganesh said.
At dawn, Ganesh and Aneet prepared to leave.
The camp was already awake, people beginning their work again.
Keral stood at the edge and watched them shoulder their packs.
"This isn't goodbye," he said. "It's just where our roads stop crossing."
Ganesh nodded. "If this place ever needs us, walk toward the open road. We'll hear."
Keral smiled. "I know you will."
They clasped forearms once, firmly.
Then Ganesh and Aneet turned and began walking away.
Keral stood and watched until they became small shapes against the wide land.
Then he turned back to the camp.
To the people waiting.
To the road that no longer moved beneath his feet.
As they walked, Aneet broke the silence.
"He found what he was looking for."
Ganesh nodded. "Yes. A place where dharma isn't just chosen… it's lived every day."
They continued forward.
Two walkers again.
But carrying the memory of a companion who no longer needed to walk.