The courtyard hung in a tense, trembling silence. Mohana's eyes burned with fury, trying to grasp the impossible sight before her.
"How…" her voice hissed, sharp and trembling with disbelief, "how are his powers back? I saw his hair… shaved… he should have been powerless…"
Kiaan's golden eyes twinkled mischievously. Slowly, almost magically, tiny tufts of hair began sprouting on his head, soft and dark, glowing faintly as if touched by divine light.
Kiara let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, fingers trembling as she clutched Kiaan to her chest. Yuvaan's jaw relaxed slightly, a mixture of relief and wonder in his eyes.
Mohana's smirk faltered into a snarl. She slammed her palm to the ground, and her long, black braid uncoiled like a living shadow, slithering through the air toward the child.
Kiaan's tiny lips curved into a delighted grin. He opened his mouth… and with an innocent little puff, a whirlwind erupted, swirling with golden sparks. The force spun Mohana violently, twisting her in midair like a ragdoll. She crashed to the ground, fury radiating off her in waves of black magic.
When Mohana staggered to regain her balance, gasping and clawing at the air, Kiaan had disappeared.
He was invisible.
He crawled, giggling, around her, tiny hands and feet making no sound, his golden eyes flickering in the faint light, unseen. Mohana swung, hissed, tried to lunge—but there was nothing there to hit.
A high-pitched sonic scream erupted from Mohana, filled with rage, power, and frustration. It tore through the courtyard like a blade of sound.
Kiaan's lips twitched. With a tiny, playful coo, the scream curved back toward her as if the air itself obeyed him. Mohana's eyes widened in disbelief as her own scream struck her like a physical blow. She staggered backward, tripping, falling hard onto the ground.
The courtyard echoed with her pain and shock. The golden glow around Kiaan pulsed gently as he giggled again, tiny hands reaching out playfully, yet radiating a power that no dark magic could touch.
Kiara's heart swelled with awe and relief. Yuvaan's eyes narrowed, a storm building behind them, both recognizing that their child was not just alive—he was awake, aware, and more formidable than anyone could have imagined.
The courtyard was tense, every heartbeat echoing against the stone walls. Mohana rose slowly, her black robes billowing, her eyes burning with ruthless determination. Her hands moved with precision, and from the shadows of her palm, a tiny toy car floated in the air.
"No matter how clever a child is," she hissed, her voice slicing through the air, "he is still a child. Children are always drawn to toys. Always distracted. Always… vulnerable."
Kiaan's golden eyes glimmered. Slowly, almost teasingly, he became visible, crawling toward the hall. Each movement deliberate, each tiny handprint leaving faint sparks of light in its wake. The family froze, fear striking them as he moved further from their arms.
Mohana lunged, her hands reaching for him, intent on reclaiming what she believed she could control.
But Kiaan… he vanished into the ground.
Mohana's eyes widened, panic flickering for the first time. Her hands shot into the floor, searching, clawing, but there was nothing. Then, with a tiny, victorious giggle, Kiaan emerged behind her.
He had grown. His tiny form stretched, expanding, towering over Mohana with an aura of golden light. The ground trembled with each movement.
Mohana staggered backward, clutching at the air, utterly shocked. Kiaan's little hands, now immense, reached for her. The toy she had conjured floated harmlessly, forgotten.
With precise, playful motions, he drew a glowing circle in the air with one hand while clutching Mohana in the other. The circle shimmered, radiating divine-warlock energy. He rolled her across the ground effortlessly, like a toy caught in the hands of an amused child.
The courtyard quaked with each movement. Mohana shrieked, her dark magic struggling against the unstoppable force of Kiaan's play, but she could not break free.
Finally, with a gentle but firm push, Kiaan placed her in the glowing circle. A pulse of light shot outward, and Mohana's form sank into the ground, trapped beneath the earth, immobilized, powerless for the first time in centuries.
The glow faded. Silence fell, broken only by the soft, triumphant giggle of Kiaan.
The family rushed forward, fear melting into joy. Kiara scooped him up immediately, holding him to her chest, tears spilling down her face.
Yuvaan's arms wrapped around them both, his own relief mingling with laughter as he stroked Kiaan's hair, now glowing faintly golden.
Vikram, Varun, Bhoomi, Chandrika, and the rest of the family closed around them in a circle, each hand reaching for the tiny miracle. They held him together, a wave of love and protection washing over the courtyard.
For the first time in hours, for the first time in days, the world felt right again. Mohana was trapped. Kiaan was safe. And their family—stronger than ever—was whole once more.
The air still shimmered faintly with residual magic, reminding them all that danger could return—but for now, the warmth of reunion, laughter, and relief filled the fortress.
Kiaan wriggled in Kiara's arms, giggling, reaching out with tiny hands to pat Yuvaan's cheek, utterly innocent yet undeniably powerful.
The family laughed with him, the sound echoing through the courtyard like sunlight after a storm.
And in that moment, nothing else mattered.
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