The rains finally ended, but the world they left behind was forever changed.
For days, the survivors picked through the soaked plains, salvaging what little they could—broken pottery, a few bundles of grain, the tattered remains of sacred scrolls. But Aarav was not a man to mourn forever. His eyes were already set on the future.
---
One month later, under the bright blue sky of early spring, Aarav stood atop a rocky ridge, surveying the vast, fertile land that spread before him. In the distance, the mighty Yamuna river curved like a silver snake.
"This place," Aarav said, pointing to a natural plateau framed by forests and streams, "this shall be our home."
Beside him, Devika smiled, her hair braided with wildflowers. "What will we call it?"
He smiled, lifting his face to the sun.
> "Indraprastha—the seat of the gods."
---
The building of Indraprastha began at once.
First, simple mud-brick houses rose in neat circles, designed to withstand future floods. Second, granaries were dug into the earth, protected by stone walls and irrigation ditches. Third, a wide central square was cleared, where trade, festivals, and gatherings could thrive.
Every day, men and women worked together, singing old songs that echoed across the valley.
Conversations buzzed around Aarav constantly.
> "Aarav-ji, should we build the well here?"
"Aarav, how many guards will we need for the granaries?"
"Aarav-ji, Devika is asking if you'll come back soon. She's preparing a feast!"
He laughed often, sleeves rolled up, dirt streaked across his chest as he carried bricks side by side with his people.
At night, by firelight, the exhausted settlers ate roasted meat and fresh fruits, sharing dreams about the golden city they were raising with their own hands.
---
One evening, after a long day of hauling stone, Devika found Aarav sitting by the river, washing the grime from his body.
She approached silently, the moonlight catching her flowing dress.
> "My strong husband," she teased, crouching behind him and running her fingers through his wet hair. "You're building a city by day and stealing hearts by night."
Aarav chuckled, pulling her gently into his lap.
> "Only one heart matters to me," he whispered against her ear.
Devika blushed, but didn't pull away. Their kisses tasted of earth and rain and the stubborn hope that still clung to them both.
Under the stars, they made love quietly, hidden among the tall grass, as the river sang its endless song beside them.
---
Weeks became months.
The city of Indraprastha slowly took form: wide avenues laid with crushed stone, markets bustling with traders, schools where elders taught the children the wisdom of the old world.
Aarav built a small temple at the city's heart—not to a god, but to Hope itself.
And at its entrance, he carved an inscription in the ancient tongue:
> "From the waters we rose.
From the stones we built.
In the name of Life, we endure."
---
As the first year ended, Indraprastha was no longer just a dream. It was a living, breathing home. Aarav stood atop the city wall one evening, the setting sun bathing the valley in gold, Devika leaning against his shoulder.
> "See, my love?" he said, voice thick with emotion.
"We are not the broken remnants of the past.
We are the architects of the future."
Devika looked at him, her eyes shining.
> "And this is only the beginning."
---
End of Chapter 15