It was a bright, sunny afternoon, and Charlotte was sitting in the garden, chatting with Kira, Maria, and Bella. The children, including Kevin, were supposed to be playing in the open field nearby, but something felt off. Her heart had been restless all day. Something was missing—*someone* was missing.
"Kevin," Charlotte called out, glancing around the yard. "Where's Siddarth?"
Kevin, who had been running around aimlessly, came over with a confused look. "I don't know, Aunt Charlotte. Siddarth didn’t come today. I’ve been looking for him, too."
In that moment, Charlotte’s world seemed to crumble. Her heart stopped, and everything around her blurred into a haze. *Siddarth wasn’t with Kevin. Siddarth was gone.*
"Siddarth… where are you?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Sabastian, seeing the panic wash over his wife’s face, quickly knelt beside her and gripped her shoulders gently. "He’s fine, Charlotte," he assured her. "He’s around here somewhere. Let’s not panic. We’ll find him, I promise." But even as he said those words, he could feel the weight of Charlotte’s fear pulling at his own heart.
"No, Sabastian," Charlotte choked out, tears brimming in her eyes. "I can feel it. I feel like a part of me is missing... my baby... where is my baby?"
Without wasting another second, Charlotte bolted from her seat, running toward the field, calling out Siddarth’s name. Sabastian followed closely behind, his heart racing, trying to reassure her that everything would be alright. Kira, Maria, and Bella quickly joined them, fanning out in different directions, searching for the little boy.
The minutes dragged on, turning into what felt like hours. Each second without Siddarth felt like an eternity to Charlotte. She kept running, her voice hoarse from calling his name, her heart breaking with every unanswered shout. Tears streamed down her face as her mind raced through the worst possibilities.
Sabastian, sensing they were losing precious time, stopped in his tracks and reached for his wand. He closed his eyes and concentrated, sending out a magical pulse in search of their son. Moments later, he felt a faint magical trace—Siddarth’s trace.
"There!" Sabastian said, his voice firm and full of urgency. He grabbed Charlotte’s hand, and with a wave of his wand, they vanished from the field, appearing moments later at the magical training grounds.
And there he was—little Siddarth, crouched behind a large rock, his deep blue eyes wide with wonder as he watched older wizards practicing spells and honing their craft. He was sneaking around, clearly fascinated by the magic being performed around him.
Charlotte felt her knees buckle with relief. She ran to him, her heart soaring, and scooped him into her arms, tears of both anger and relief streaming down her face.
"Siddarth!" she cried, kissing his little face between sobs. "You scared me so much! Don’t ever disappear like that again!" She held him tight, rocking him gently, unable to let go.
Siddarth, looking at his mother with those bright, innocent eyes, pouted and wiped away her tears with his tiny hands. "I’m sorry, Mama," he said sweetly, his voice soft. "I just wanted to see the magic. I didn’t mean to make you sad."
Sabastian stood nearby, a wave of relief washing over him as he watched the tender moment between his wife and son. He placed a comforting hand on Charlotte’s shoulder, his eyes soft with love and pride. "He’s safe now, Charlotte. He’s here."
After a moment of quiet, Siddarth suddenly perked up. "Mama, Papa!" he said excitedly. "I learned something today. Watch this!"
Before they could stop him, Siddarth grabbed a bow from the training area, struggling to lift it with his small hands. The adults exchanged curious, slightly worried glances, but let him continue. His tiny frame struggled to pull the string, but with sheer determination, he aimed the magic arrow and released it.
In an instant, the arrow shot forward, glowing with an intense light. It sliced through the air with precision and power, cutting through *ten* trees in a straight line before they all collapsed at once, the sound of cracking wood echoing across the grounds.
Everyone stood in stunned silence.
The wizards around them stopped what they were doing, their mouths agape in disbelief. They had never seen a child perform such a powerful feat of magic, let alone with a bow that most adults could barely handle. Whispers filled the air as they tried to make sense of what they had just witnessed.
Sabastian had no words. His mouth hung open, his mind trying to process what he had just seen. He looked around, seeing the awe-struck faces of the others, and without a second thought, he grabbed Charlotte and Siddarth, casting a quick spell to transport them home, away from prying eyes.
Back at home, they sat in the living room, the silence heavy around them. Sabastian looked down at his son, who was sitting on his lap, still beaming with pride.
"How did you learn to do that, Siddarth?" Sabastian asked softly, still in disbelief.
Siddarth shrugged, his innocent eyes wide and sincere. "I don’t know, Papa," he said in his sweet, childlike voice. "Every time I see a bow, I feel like I’ve used it before. It feels like it belongs to me... like I’m supposed to use it."
Sabastian and Charlotte exchanged a glance, both knowing what this meant. They had always felt it, but now it was clear as day—Siddarth wasn’t just any child. He was their blessing, their divine gift. The bow, the power, it all pointed to one thing: their son was touched by Lord Shiva himself.
"He’s our son," Sabastian whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Our son... chosen by the gods."
Charlotte, tears in her eyes once again, scooped Siddarth up into her arms, holding him tightly against her chest. "You are our miracle, Siddarth," she whispered, her voice full of love. "You are everything to us."
Siddarth, not fully understanding the weight of their words, giggled and wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck, hugging her tightly. "I love you, Mama."
Sabastian, his chest swelling with pride, gently stroked his son’s hair. "I’m so proud of you, Siddarth," he whispered, his voice full of warmth.
In that moment, the world felt right. Their son was safe, and he was more special than they could have ever imagined. As Charlotte held him close, and Sabastian gazed at their beautiful boy, they both knew one thing: they would protect him with their lives, for he was their son, and he was destined for greatness.
