Whispers Under the Moon and a Consuming Fire
The return to the palace was a somber affair. Gone was the boisterous energy of their departure, replaced by a heavy, shared silence. Even their steeds-the fire-spewing Agni and the luminous Shakti-seemed to have sensed their masters' turmoil, their happy whinnies upon reaching the familiar stables sounding almost discordant against the grim reality they carried.
A stablehand bowed deeply. "We will see to their care, Yuvaraj. They will be brushed, fed and rested."
A light touch of Devansh's hand upon the powerful neck of Shakti, and he could feel the rhythmic pulse of life beneath the silken white coat. "Thank you. Treat her with extra care; she was my shield today." The horse rubbed his shoulder softly in understanding.
Aaditya watched the interaction; his face grew contemplative. "You have a way with creatures. It is a gentle strength."
"All life resonates at a certain frequency, Aaditya," Devansh said, his blue eyes locking with the other prince's. "One just needs to learn to listen."
Servants proffered bowls of chilled sherbet and sweet, sliced mangoes in cool marble halls. The simple comforts felt alien after the raw, magical danger of the forest. The cool liquid in his glass did little to quench the heat of his unease as Aaditya drained it.
"We should rest," Aaditya said, his firm voice laced with fatigue. "The day's events have taken their toll."
Devansh nodded, the unsaid truth of the "hunt" weighing heavy on his mind. They parted ways at the corridor, one lingering glance speaking volumes more than words ever could.
---
The evening feast was a tableau of normalcy, a fragile-seeming lie. The grand dining hall glittered with lamplight; the air was thick with spiced curries and saffron rice.
Maharani Sheetal smiled warmly at her son and his guest. "So, my brave princes, how fared the hunt? I trust the forests of Suryapuri provided good sport?"
For an instant, Aaditya's eyes darted towards Devansh before he gave a smooth, practised smile. "It was a routine excursion, Mother. We tracked a few deer, but the forest was quiet today." He speared a piece of roasted vegetable deftly on his knife. "The fresh air was refreshing."
Devansh felt a surge of gratitude so potent it tightened his throat. The lie was a shield, protecting not just them, but the entire court from a terror they could not yet comprehend. He offered the Queen a small, reassuring smile of his own. "The beauty of your kingdom's wilderness is sport enough, Maharani."
-
Later, he sought refuge from the cloying atmosphere of concealed truths and found his way to the palace rooftop. The world was bathed in the ethereal silver of a full moon-a huge, shining pearl in the velvet sky, which shone bright enough to cast sharp shadows. He leaned against the cool stone parapet and let the silence wash over him. The light of the moon gave his blue eyes the appearance of deep, still lakes under a starry sky, but their surface was ruffled by ripples of unspoken fear and power.
"Finding peace in the embracing moon, Prince Devansh?
The familiar and warm voice came from behind him. Devansh turned to find Aaditya approaching him; his crimson eyes transformed in the moonlight, burning with a softer, mysterious fire.
"A moment of quiet," Devansh replied softly. Then he stopped, a genuine, surprised smile touching his lips. "You called me 'friend'."
Aaditya halted, a look of mild surprise crossing his features before he chuckled. "Did I? Well, after one saves your life from a magically-enhanced bull, formalities do begin to feel rather pointless, don't you think?" He moved to stand beside Devansh at the ledge. "Unless you object?"
"Object?" Devansh laughed; the sound was light, melodious, mingling with the night. "No, I think I like the sound of it better this way: friend.
The shared laughter that followed was a real thing, breaking down the last remaining bits of the royal reserve between them. The wall was gone, and in its place came an effortless camaraderie that felt as natural as breathing.
For a while, they stood in comfortable silence, observing the landscape bathed in moonlight.
"Your skill with the veena," Aaditya began, his voice quieter now. "You said it came naturally. But you must have had a teacher. We Kshatriyas are raised on the art of the sword and the strategy of the chariot. Music is often a distant melody. How did a prince of a warrior kingdom find his soul in a raga?"
Devansh's gaze went distant, the focus of his eyes receding down the years. "There was an old woman," he said, voice settling into a storyteller's cadence. "A ragacharya of immense grace who would come to my father's court. I would hide behind the pillars as a boy, just to listen to her play. It was not just music, Aaditya. It was. a language. A language that spoke of things I felt in my dreams but had no words for."
His eyes shone with the memory. "The first time I held a veena, it didn't feel like learning a new skill. It felt like remembering something my hands had always known how to do. My guru, she saw that. She said the music wasn't in the instrument; it was in me. The veena was merely the voice. Before she left, she gifted me this one." He nodded toward the instrument that was always at his back. "She told me its true name was 'Vani'."
"Vani," Aaditya repeated, the name rolling off his tongue with a sense of reverence. "The goddess of speech and melody. A fitting name for a vessel of such power." He looked at Devansh, his expression serious. "It's more than an instrument, isn't it? It's a part of you."
Before Devansh could answer, the serene night broke.
A scream tore through the palace below, sharp and terrified. Then another. And another.
"FIRE! FIRE IN THE ROYAL LIBRARY!" The cries of soldiers and servants became a panicked roar. Aaditya and Devansh spun around. From their vantage point, they could see a terrifying orange glow emanating from a wing of the palace, and thick black smoke beginning to billow into the clean night air. The shadow had not waited for the dawn. It had struck again.
Chapter End Note: A moonlight bond, a truth about the most sacred instrument, 'Vani'. in a trice, reduced to pieces. The enemy is not sleeping. This fire is no accident; it is a message, an escalation. The royal library-a repository of knowledge and perhaps ancient secrets-is under attack. So, the game has come from the dark forest right into the heart of the palace. The hunt is over, the chase has just begun.