Back to the years, where the nature started evolving, love started to deepen; the divine itself handed over the rights of reward and punishment to a supreme power called, Niyatii or what in today's words... we say NIYATIII.
Everything that happens is the result of our own seeds that we plant in the soil named karma. However, an innocent can,t be punished for the bad deeds performed against him. But yes, this time, Aarav who is a soulkeeper gets the results of others as he just wants to unburdens the depth of sadness in soul of others.
Who is a Soulkeeper? - A celestial guardian of soulmarks — the silent witness to love, loss, and vows written in starlight.
Aarav is a celestial being; Aarav was not a god of war, nor a bringer of light.
He was something rarer — something lonelier.
A Soulkeeper.
The one who held memories the heavens chose to forget.
The guardian of soulmarks, watcher of lifetimes, the soft voice between life and rebirth.
He didn't speak much, but when he did — even fate listened.
His presence was silence, not because he had nothing to say,
but because he had felt too much to waste words.
He walked through celestial halls barefoot, tracing the marks of broken bonds and lost love —
a divine being cursed with memory... and forbidden from desire.
Yet even in a world of law and light,
his soul burned only for one name.
Aaranya
"Let's see who is now in the Soulforge" - Aarav enters the soulforge. The soulforge is a sacred chamber where Aarav analyzes the feelings and emotions of souls. It is where soulmarks are created, healed, rewritten or erased.
It exists outside of time, glowing with the echoes of past lives and unspoken vows.
Threads of destiny float in its stillness — some fragile, some burning, some nearly broken.
The Soulforge is where a Soulkeeper does their divine work:
Sealing eternal bonds
Healing shattered love
Judging soul-betrayals
Carrying memories the gods refused to touch
The forge is alive. It responds to emotion, not logic.
When grief enters, the flames grow cold.
When love enters, they sing in light.
When betrayal arrives... the forge trembles.
It's like, "The heavens forgave many things. But the Soulforge remembered all."
The Soulforge pulsed gently around him — vast and eternal —
its golden mist curling around ancient pillars and floating threads of destiny.
Above him hung a thousand soulmarks, flickering like dying stars.
Each one a life, a vow, a fragment of pain.
But one flame burned louder than the others.
Soul No. 7631-NR.
It wailed without sound.
It bled sorrow through its flame.
And it refused to rest.
Aarav stepped forward.
His hand rose, and with just a whisper of his essence, the thread unraveled.
And yes... There was a soul.....
The soul did not scream.
It had screamed for centuries. Now, it only wept.
Silently. Hopelessly. Like a candle left burning long after the room has gone cold.
She had waited for him.
Through war, through hunger, through lifetimes.
With trembling hands, she had stitched his name into every breath she took.
And still—
he forgot.
Now, her flame hovered in the Soulforge —
not angry, not vengeful,
just... broken.
It pulsed with unloved devotion,
a memory that refused to sleep.
The other soulmarks backed away,
as if even death found this love too heavy to hold.
And in the center of the sacred forge —
a place where the sky bled gold and silence echoed like prayers —
Aarav stood watching.
The forge wasn't glowing now. It was dim.
As if grieving with her.
The flames curled inward.
The air thickened with sorrow.
Even the divine glyphs along the walls began to flicker —
lines of sacred law trembling under the weight of her story.
And still, her soul burned.
Not in rage.
But in aching hope —
That someone, somewhere, would remember her pain and say:
"You did not deserve this."
Aarav didn't rush.
He had seen gods fall.
He had watched time twist.
But few things haunted him like the souls of those who loved quietly and died unheard.
He raised his hand.
The flame recoiled — not out of fear, but out of habit.
So many had come before,
and none had listened.
But Aarav... knelt.
And whispered:
"I hear you."
The forge warmed.
The flame pulsed.
And the soul began to open.
The soul pulsed beneath Aarav's hand —
flickering like a heartbeat that had once stopped mid-confession.
He closed his eyes.
And then—
The flame opened.
And here is her last memory -
It was raining.
Not the gentle kind.
But the kind that soaked through skin and time,
the kind that sounded like grief falling from the sky.
She stood beneath the withered tree where he had once kissed her fingertips.
"Wait for me," he had whispered, brushing a tear from her cheek.
"Even if this world forgets you, I won't."
And so... she waited.
Days bled into seasons.
Her hair turned silver at the temples.
The world changed. But her prayers did not.
Each morning she lit a diya.
Each night, she sat by the river and whispered his name into the current.
"Come home."
"Come back."
"Please remember."
And then—
He did.
But not the way she dreamed.
He arrived in royal silks, laughter in his voice and another woman on his arm.
She rushed forward, barefoot, trembling.
"It's me," she had said, her voice breaking. "I waited. I kept every promise. I—"
He had looked at her like she was a stranger.
"I'm sorry, my lady... do I know you?"
Her smile froze.
Her breath faltered.
"You promised," she whispered.
He laughed awkwardly. Bowed.
And walked past her.
And in that moment, her soul—
snapped.
She collapsed onto the temple steps, the same place where she had first fallen in love.
She died with his name on her lips —
but her name lost in his memory.
Aarav opened his eyes.
His throat burned.
This... this was not a soul that needed judgment.
This was a soul that needed to be seen.
"You poor, faithful thing," he murmured.
"He forgot you... but I won't."
He didn't rise.
He stayed kneeling, because pain like hers did not deserve to be towered over.
"You waited with love," he whispered.
"Let me let you go... with peace."
He raised both hands, and the forge responded —
flames softening, threads glowing gently.
He didn't erase the memory.
He rearranged it.
Not to lie — but to heal.
Now, she waited by the river...
And he came.
Not with another.
But with flowers in his hands and tears in his eyes.
He knelt before her — and remembered.
Every promise. Every whisper. Every shared lifetime.
"I kept my word," he said.
"Even through lifetimes... I found my way back."
And this time —
She smiled and reached for him.
And this time —
he stayed.
Behind the pillar, Aaranya's hand shook.
Tears burned in her eyes, and she didn't know why.
She couldn't have known this woman.
She couldn't have known this man.
But the ache in her chest felt personal.
"This kind of grief doesn't belong to strangers," she thought.
"Why does it feel like a piece of me cracked open too?"
He stood slowly, the soul now at rest — glowing softly like a diya finally blown out after the prayer ended.
And then—
the forge stilled.
The flames curled.
The glyphs on the walls shimmered gold.
Someone was watching.
He turned.
Their eyes met.
And time, which had obeyed him for centuries, hesitated.
"You watched," he said, not unkindly.
"I... I didn't mean to. The flame... let me in," she stammered.
She says with a laugh, " ab itni sundr kahani chl rahi hogi vo bhi pyaar ki to mai kaise na aati? hnmm? Nhi, ap ek baat btaiye.. itne sahi tareeke se aapne is bechari ko uske premi se milwa diya... waah!"
She looks at Aarav - Aarav's gaze lingered on her, calm yet piercing —
like he was reading not just her face, but her entire soul.
Aaranya's breath hitched.
She looked at him — properly, now — as if the forge had cleared a veil from her vision.
And what she saw...
stopped her heart.
He wasn't just beautiful.
He was ancient.
Skin kissed by golden light, yet pale like moonstone.
A jaw clenched in restraint.
Eyes — not brown, not gold — but the color of dying fire,
burning low... yet never extinguished.
There was sorrow in those eyes.
But also storms.
Like he had once burned the heavens just to protect something he loved.
His hair fell loosely to his shoulders, black as void.
But not wild. Controlled.
Like everything about him had been chosen — not for vanity, but for purpose.
His presence wasn't loud.
It was the kind that made the world go quiet around it.
Like a prayer.
Or a forgotten name returning in a dream.
And for a moment — just one fragile moment —
she felt a pull in her chest.
A whisper in her blood.
"You've seen him before."
He simply watched her — quiet, composed, ancient.
That only made it worse.
Aaranya cleared her throat and laughed nervously, trying to break the weight in the air.
"Waise, yeh koi normal welcome toh nahi tha... pehli baar kisi se milke lag raha hai ki maine janam janam ka gunaah kar diya ho ab koi aise kisi ko ghoorta hai kya?,"
she mumbled, half to herself, half hoping he'd laugh too.
"This place doesn't open to wanderers," he said.
"It only opens to those who've been called."
"Then maybe the call was wrong," she said, laughing nervously.
"Mujhse galti se divine portal khul gaya hoga... happens, right?"
Aarav didn't smile — not fully.
But the corner of his lips curved just enough.
"You've always had the talent of making sacred places feel human,"
he said softly.
"Main—main toh bas... yeh sab thoda zyada ho gaya," she added quickly.
"Itna intensity toh sirf TV serials mein hoti hai..."
Her hands fidgeted, unsure where to place themselves.
And he... just kept watching.
"You talk like someone who's used to running," Aarav said, voice quiet.
"And I don't think you know what you're running from yet."
She froze again.
And this time—she didn't have a laugh to offer back.
Something about him made her breath falter.
She turned away quickly, pretending to fix her dupatta.
"Okay toh... main chalti hoon," she muttered.
"Yeh sab thoda zyada hi intense tha. Like divine therapy session level..."
"Wait."
She turned halfway, surprised.
"You didn't tell me your name," he said.
"Aaranya," she replied.
"Aaranya..."
He repeated it softly. Almost reverently.
Like it was a name he had once lost... and now found again.
She frowned.
"Why did you say it like that?"
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then shook his head, gently.
"No reason."
She felt it again. That pull.
Like gravity had shifted toward him.
She crossed her arms, half-defensive.
"Look, I don't know what this place is... ya aap kaun ho...
but standing here makes me feel like I've just walked into someone else's memory."
"You have," he said quietly.
"But not someone else's."
Before she could respond, a bell-like chime echoed faintly in the forge —
a sound she hadn't heard earlier.
The portal behind her glowed softly. Her time here was ending.
"You should go," he said, stepping back into the mist.
"This place doesn't like too many answers at once."
"Are you going to disappear if I blink?"
That earned a tiny smirk from him.
"Maybe."
She stepped through the light, glancing back only once.
He was still watching her.
Like he was memorizing the shape of her shadow.
Like he had done it before.
And for a reason she couldn't explain,
she walked faster —
not to escape him...
but to escape the ache.