The air in the chamber was thick with shadows, the kind that seemed to press down on the skin and whisper in the mind. Candles flickered across jagged walls, casting shapes that danced like living creatures.
In the center, a large, carved cradle sat atop a pentagram etched with ancient runes.
Kiaan's cries tore through the room—sharp, high-pitched, almost unbearable—but raw and innocent. His tiny fists pumped the air, legs kicking wildly as the Tri-Kaalishini hovered over him.
Urvi's braid coiled around her like a serpent, her eyes burning with excitement. "Look at him," she hissed, voice smooth like silk and ice. "The mighty little celestial-warlock… reduced to a wailing baby. All his powers… gone."
Ratri's red eyes glimmered. "He doesn't even realize how powerless he is. Such a tiny thing, and yet… so much fear in his cries."
Nishigandha circled the cradle, runes on her skin glowing brighter as she chanted low, resonant syllables. "The child is pure… untouched by any ordinary magic. Perfect for what our Boss desires."
From the shadows of a black pool at the far end of the chamber, a figure emerged—or perhaps simply existed there, hovering in the liquid darkness. The Boss. Its face obscured, cloaked in a living shadow that seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of the room itself. Only a faint glint of golden eyes broke the void, watching every movement with precise, unblinking attention.
"Place him," the Boss's voice echoed, velvety yet sharp, carrying authority that made even the Tri-Kaalishini tremble. "We begin the ritual. Place him in the demonic formation. His essence will restore what I have lost. His blood, his energy… it is the key."
Urvi lifted Kiaan carefully, murmuring to him with false sweetness. "Shh, beta… time for a little nap. Mama's here… don't cry too much." Her voice cracked slightly under the strain of holding back impatience and desire for power.
Kiaan's wailing only grew louder, a tiny, defiant roar that seemed to shake the very candles. His fists punched the air, his legs kicking in all directions, yet there was something… fierce… about him. Something even the Tri-Kaalishini could feel—a spark that refused to be snuffed.
As Urvi placed him into the center of the pentagram, the runes reacted, glowing faintly under his golden aura.
Ratri leaned in, whispering with cruel satisfaction, "Now, the ritual begins. Let the child's blood and power be drawn… and let the Boss rise again."
Kiaan's eyes widened, golden flecks starting to flare faintly as he writhed. Even as a nine-month-old, the warlock-Jishwa hybrid's essence could not be contained.
Nishigandha began her incantation, her hands moving in complex, twisting patterns. Shadows stretched from her fingertips, creeping along the pentagram toward the child, who continued to scream—but in that scream, there was more than fear. There was resistance.
Urvi hissed, impatient and annoyed, her braid twitching like a live thing, "Control him! He cannot disrupt the ritual!"
And yet, the tiny golden aura around Kiaan began to pulse rhythmically, almost like a heartbeat against the darkness—a silent promise that no matter how much the Tri-Kaalishini tried, the child was not entirely theirs to command.
The Boss leaned forward slightly, golden eyes glinting with a mixture of hunger and anticipation. "Begin. I will have my power back… through him."
The chamber seemed to breathe as shadows twisted, candles flickered violently, and the wails of Kiaan filled the air—a lullaby of defiance and innocence against encroaching darkness.
🌑 The Forest Road
The fog clung to everything—trees, roots, the ground itself—like a living thing.
Kiara, Yuvaan, and the family moved cautiously, every step muffled by the damp leaves. The faint glow of the blood-bond fog ahead guided them, twisting and pulsating toward the heart of darkness.
Suddenly, the path ahead became a nightmare.
Massive figures emerged from the shadows—man-eaters. Their eyes glowed faintly in the fog, mouths opening to reveal jagged, unnatural teeth. Limbs twisted at impossible angles. They murmured softly, a horrifying chorus of hunger.
Vikram's gaze hardened. He stepped forward, placing a hand on Yuvaan's shoulder.
"These… aren't ordinary beasts," he said, voice low but commanding. "They were once guardians of this forest. Long ago, a darker force took control. They are puppets now, dancing to its tune. They obey only the darkness."
Kiara's grip tightened on her bow, arrow already nocked.
Vikram continued, turning to the rest of the family.
"We can stop them—but you two follow the fog. We'll hold them here."
A chorus of affirmations rose. Each member readied their weapons:
Vikram and Varun: Reeva bows at the ready
Bhoomi: Twin pistols glinting
Susheela: Dagger in hand
Angad, Aakash, Vinod: Shotguns poised
Riddhi and Moti Baa: Crossbows loaded, steady
Yuvaan placed a hand on Kiara's arm. "Stay close. Trust the fog."
Kiara nodded, bow in hand, eyes scanning the moving shadows.
The man-eaters lunged.
Without missing a beat, Yuvaan grabbed a low-hanging tree branch. Using it as a swing, he launched himself over the nearest man-eater, Reeva Talwar slicing the air in a brilliant silver streak.
Kiara followed, catching a branch herself, swinging gracefully over the snarling creatures, releasing arrows mid-air that struck with deadly precision.
The beasts tried to follow, snapping jaws and claws, but the family held them back. Vikram's Reeva ropes wrapped around a massive one, Varun's arrow pinning it in place. Bhoomi's pistols barked, Susheela's dagger sliced, Riddhi and Moti Baa's crossbows struck with perfect rhythm. Each creature was pushed back, restrained, or incapacitated.
Branches snapped under the weight of the attacking man-eaters, but Kiara and Yuvaan swung forward relentlessly, leaping over roots and leaping across the forest floor, the blood-bond fog pulsing ahead as a guide.
"Keep moving!" Vikram shouted behind them. "The fog is your guide—nothing can stop it!"
Finally, Kiara's arrow pinned the last man-eater to the ground, and Yuvaan landed beside her, both panting, eyes sharp, hands tight on their weapons.
"Are you okay?" Kiara asked, brushing damp hair from her face, a triumphant grin breaking through the tension.
Yuvaan smirked, wiping sweat from his forehead. "After facing that? Always. Let's follow the fog—Kiaan is waiting."
The family regrouped behind them, finishing binding the struggling man-eaters.
The fog pulsed brighter, almost impatient, as if urging Kiara and Yuvaan forward.
And then—silence.
The only sound: the distant rustle of the forest, the faint cries of Kiaan carried like a fragile thread through the darkness, guiding them ever closer to the source.