"Should I do the same?" she wondered aloud.
"Yes, Master," the space responded, its voice as soothing as a flowing river. "By touching them and forming the thought in your mind, you can take them inside."
Curious, Bani placed her fingers over the pouch and focused. She imagined the seeds vanishing into the space's embrace. A faint warmth spread from her fingertips, and in an instant, the pouch disappeared—no weight, no trace.
She gasped. "It worked!"
Excitement coursed through her veins. The space truly belonged to her, responding to her will, bending to her intentions.
Without hesitation, she grabbed the other seed pouch and repeated the process. The warmth returned, and the second pouch disappeared just as easily.
This was real.
This was her power.
With newfound determination, she turned toward the vast, waiting fields.
"Now, let's see how they grow."
Bani stood in the middle of the field, hands on her hips, surveying the land.
She had spent days researching farming—soil preparation, irrigation, tools, techniques—but one question remained.
How was she supposed to plow this land?
She knew the traditional methods: plows, tractors, even animals. But this space wasn't normal. It shifted with her emotions, responded to her thoughts. Would conventional farming even work here?
As if reading her mind, the space answered.
A deep, resonant voice echoed around her—not loud, but steady, pressing gently against her thoughts.
"Master, to plant this land, it must be awakened."
Bani frowned. "Awakened?"
"Plowing is for land that resists. This space is alive. Speak your intention, and it will open itself to you."
She hesitated. "So… I just tell it what I want?"
"Master, feel the earth. Let it know your purpose. Do not command it—invite it. Guide it."
Taking a deep breath, Bani crouched down and pressed her palm against the cool soil. She closed her eyes, steadying her heartbeat.
"I want to grow here," she whispered. "I want this place to flourish."
A faint tremor ran beneath her fingers. The soil stirred—not violently, but gently, like a slow breath. Furrows stretched across the land, even and soft, ready for planting.
Bani exhaled, wonder flickering in her chest.
The space chuckled—light, amused.
"Master, the land does not need force. It needs understanding. Now, we should plant."
She opened the seed packets, each one a humble yet essential choice. Tomatoes. Carrots. Spinach. Cauliflower. Beans. Basmati rice. Dal.
She placed her hands on the ground and whispered, "Plant these seeds in different portions."
The air shimmered. The soil responded—not with force, but with grace. Soft furrows appeared, each seed settling into place as if tucked in by unseen hands.
"Will they grow?" she asked hesitantly.
"Yes, Master. But even magic cannot replace care and patience."
Bani smiled, brushing the soil from her palms.
She had spent so long feeling powerless, trapped in the chaos of her life. But here, in this strange and wondrous place, she was beginning to feel something else—something new.
Hope.
As the moonlight bathed the freshly planted field, she sat back, watching over her work.
Tomorrow, she would see just what this place could truly do.