A Brother's Return and the Shadow of a Prophecy
Time seemed to crystallize. The serpent, a living dart of shadow and venom, uncoiled with blinding speed. Aaditya's world narrowed to the glint of its fangs, the malevolent red of its eyes. He was a warrior, but against this arcane evil, his strength felt mortal, fragile.
Twang!
The sound was sharp, clean, and utterly final. An arrow, fletched with grey hawk feathers, sliced through the air to pin the serpent's head to the windowsill with unerring accuracy. It writhed for a single silent moment before dissolving into a wisp of the same foul black smoke that had poured from the bull.
Aaditya spun around, his heart pounding against his ribs.
Standing in the doorway, bow still elegantly poised, was a young man with a familiar roguish smile. His eyes, a warmer shade of gold than Aaditya's fiery crimson, crinkled at the corners.
"Little brother," Virendra said, his voice a welcome, teasing melody after the dissonant horror. "You've grown tall enough to look a man in the eye, yet it seems you still need your big brother to save you from the garden pests?"
"Bhaiya!" The word was a choked gasp of relief. Aaditya crossed the room in two strides, and the brothers clung fiercely to each other. The solid, real presence of Virendra was an anchor in the surreal storm Aaditya had been trapped in. "You took your time! How are Dada-Dadi? Is everyone well in the northern provinces?"
Virendra clapped him on the back. "Everyone's in the best of health, and they send their love. I would have been here sooner, but the mountains have a way of making you forget the rush of palace life." His gaze, however, was sharp as he looked at the dissipating smoke on the windowsill. "Though it would appear the rush here is of a .different nature."
The moment was broken by the arrival of the Maharaja and Maharani, their faces pale with a fear that had not yet subsided.
"My sons," the Queen's voice was a little shaky. "The food grows cold. Let us go to the dining hall. You can catch up there."
"But Mother—" Aaditya began, his mind reeling with the need to explain the magical attack.
The Maharaja laid a firm hand on his shoulder, his eyes bespeaking a silent command. Not here. Not now. "Your mother is right, Aaditya. Some discussions are best held on a full stomach. Come."
Virendra slung an arm over Aaditya's shoulder, his easy smile back in place, though his eyes remained watchful. "Lead the way, Pitashri. I have missed the spice of Suryapuri kitchens."
---
State _chandrapuri
King Rohit
Queen_ revti
Prince_ devansh
The journey back to Chandrapuri had been a haze of dusty roads and a heavy heart for Devansh. The familiar, serene white spires of his home brought little comfort. The air here was cooler, scented with night-blooming flowers and the calm of the moon, yet it felt empty, devoid of that vibrant, sun-warmed energy that had so enchanted him.
He received a very warm welcome. King Rohit and Queen Revati stood at the gates of the palace, the love between them palpable.
"Pitashri, Matashree," Devansh murmured, bending to touch their feet in a traditional greeting. He felt the weight of their blessings, the pang of guilt for secrets now carried.
Queen Revati cupped his face, searching his eyes. "You look tired, beta. And. different."
Devansh turned to a trusted guard before entering the palace, his hand on the neck of Shakti. "See that she is given the finest stall, brushed until her coat shines like the moon, and fed the sweetest apples. She is not just a horse; she is an honored guest."
The guard bowed deeply. "It will be done, Yuvaraj."
After the obligatory rest in his chambers, a servant arrived with a message. "The Queen awaits you in her solar, My Prince. She has missed you dearly."
Devansh found his mother sitting amidst her tapestries. It was a scene of domestic peace, far removed from the danger he had just barely escaped.
"You were in our thoughts every moment, son," the Queen said, her smile not quite reaching the worry in her eyes.
"The feeling was mutual, Mother," Devansh replied, forcing a lightness he did not feel.
The dinner that evening was a quiet affair. King Rohit listened intently as Devansh spoke of Suryapuri's grandeur, its mighty king, its gracious queen, and its brave yuvaraj. He spoke of the Sangeet Sammelan, carefully omitting the magical flames and the self-playing veena.
"And your performance, beta?" the King asked, his eyes knowing. "The veena. it served you well?"
"It did, Father," Devansh said, his fingers unconsciously tracing the rim of his plate. "It revealed. many things."
As the servants removed the last plates, the King's demeanor changed. The loving father gave way to the stern ruler. He leaned forward and, in a voice now low and grave, which would not be interrupted, spoke:
"Son, the time for quiet preparation is at an end. The courtesies have been observed, the alliances tested." He paused, and the air in the room grew thick, charged with an ancient dread. "Now, you must be ready. Truly ready. For the one foretold is coming. She approaches."
The way he said the word-"She"-was not with warmth, but with the grim finality of a judge passing sentence. This was not the announcement of a beloved sister's return but the sounding of a drum, a herald of a storm brewing for lifetimes.
Chapter End Note: A brother's return brings a moment of safety, but the shadow of the masked man looms larger than ever. In Chandrapuri, a King's ominous prophecy hangs in the air, a stark warning that shatters any hope of peace. "She" is coming. But is she a savior, or a destroyer? A long-lost sister or a key to a forgotten curse? The game has changed. The pieces are moving on a board that spans kingdoms, and the next move could shatter the world. The mystery deepens, and the greatest danger may not be from the shadows behind them. but from the one walking openly towards them.