: Unknown Secrets and Shattered Hearts
The evening had set the sky ablaze with crimson, and now it was cooling into the ashen grey of twilight. Nirgh knocked softly on the door of Agni's hut.
"Uncle?"
Agni stood by the window, his back to the door. He turned, and Nirgh immediately felt the absence the usual light in his eyes was dim. That light which was always there in Neer's presence.
"Father... where is he?" Nirgh's voice trembled.
"He... has gone out for a few days." Agni tried to keep his voice steady, but it wavered like a guttering flame. "Don't worry. He will return. You go now, rest."
"Yes, Uncle." Nirgh bowed his head and turned to leave, but paused. He looked back. Agni had turned to the window again, his shoulders bowed under an invisible weight.
Nirgh left, but stopped just outside the door. He turned back and peered through a crack in the wood.
Inside, Agni slowly sank to the floor, as if his legs could no longer hold him. He buried his face in his hands.
"Neer... where are you?" his voice fell to the earth like a broken petal. "All these years... we did everything together. Why have you gone alone now? I am afraid... have you taken that path which—"
He stopped abruptly, as if the words had choked him.
Outside the door, Nirgh's breath hitched. 'That path'? Which path? What thing is Father going to use?
---
In the training ground, Anvay and Akshansh were creating an intricate dance of stones floating in the air. The stones were under Anvay's control, and Akshansh sent tiny threads of lightning skittering over their surfaces.
"Perfect!" Anvay smiled. "Your control is improving."
"But it's nothing compared to your ease," Akshansh laughed. He glanced around the field. "But where is Nirgh? I haven't even heard the crackle of his fire today."
"Perhaps in his chamber. He might need peace today."
"Maybe," Akshansh said in a teasing tone. "Otherwise, he would have been here by now, burning with jealousy that we are practicing without him!"
Anvay shook his head, serious. "Don't mock him, Akshansh. He is changing. Struggling. We should support him, not ridicule him."
"You are right," Akshansh conceded, though a playful glint remained in his eyes. "But you know... sometimes it feels like you were born just to protect him."
Anvay took Akshansh's hand, a firm, trustworthy grip. "You are my oldest friend. Promise me you won't tease him."
Akshansh took a deep breath. "Alright. For you."
They didn't know that behind a tree, Nirgh stood listening. He saw Anvay take Akshansh's hand—a touch that was simple and guileless. His own hand clenched into a fist. He turned and walked away silently, his steps heavy.
On his way, he met Vedika, who was carrying a basket of herbs.
"Anvay!" Vedika smiled on seeing him, but her gaze immediately fixed on Akshansh. "You... you both were practicing?"
"Yes," Anvay said. "Are you well?"
"Yes-yes, I was just... going to fetch some herbs."
Akshansh touched Anvay's shoulder lightly. "Come, we should go."
They left. Vedika watched them go, her eyes lingering on Akshansh, the basket feeling suddenly heavy in her hands.
---
At the other end of the field, the tension between Aksh and Kalpit was a bubble about to burst.
"You humiliated me completely in class today!" Aksh shouted, his face red with anger. "You placed that stone near my foot on purpose!"
Kalpit let out a high, sharp laugh. "Humiliated? Your entire existence is a humiliation! When I pushed you, you fell like a ripe papaya!"
"That push was unexpected!" Aksh clenched his fist. Tiny metallic particles in the air began to dance around his fingers.
"Unexpected? Your face was a sight to behold!" Kalpit said, mimicking him with exaggerated wide eyes. "'Oh! I'm falling! Save me!'"
That was it. Aksh raised his hand. The metal buttons, buckles, and even the tips of Kalpit's shoes suddenly grew heavy, as if invisible stones were loaded onto them. Kalpit staggered, waving his arms for balance.
"Hey! What is this trick?"
"Taste your own mockery!" Aksh growled.
Kalpit's eyes lit up. He rubbed his palms together, and in an instant, the world around Aksh changed. The ground turned jelly-like, the air thick as honey. When Aksh tried to step forward, his foot began to sink slowly.
"Hey! I'm drowning! Do something!"
Kalpit laughed loudly, his voice bubbling in the thickened air. "Drown where, you fool? The ground is right there!"
Aksh looked down. The ground was solid. The illusion broke. He stood stunned for a moment, then a smile spread across his lips. Kalpit was laughing too, their laughter merging into one.
"You're not so bad," Aksh said, the anger forgotten.
"You're always on my case anyway," Kalpit said, grinning.
They put their arms around each other's shoulders and walked off together, the recent fight completely forgotten.
---
At midnight, Nirgh slipped past the gurukul walls. He went to the spot where he had practiced on the first day—the same boulder he had turned to ash still lay there.
He touched the ash. It was cold and crumbly.
"All this... because of me," he whispered, his voice on the edge of crying. "Because of me, Father's power weakened. Because of me, he has gone away. What is Uncle afraid of? Father... what 'thing' is he going to use?"
Tears began to stream down his cheeks, hot and fast. He fell to his knees, his back shaking. He clenched his fists, and small flames erupted from them, reheating the ash.
At the same time, Agni sat in his hut. An old parchment lay open before him, depicting a damru—a damru with a deity's face on one side and a demon's on the other.
"Neer..." Agni touched the drawing, his finger trembling. "Are you searching for that Shadow Damru of the Yakshini? The one that lets you speak with the souls of the dead... but takes a piece of your soul in return. Have you fallen into the web of those dark powers? Where do I search for you... where?"
He rested his head on the table. A lamp's flame cast dancing shadows on his face—shadows that looked terrifying and sorrowful.
---
The next morning, there was a heavy silence in the pranayama class. All the disciples sat on their mats, eyes closed, focusing on their breath. But Nirgh's breathing was irregular—fast, then slow, then halting.
Anvay opened his eyes. He got up and went to sit beside Nirgh, without a word.
After a moment, he asked softly, "Is everything alright?"
"Yes," Nirgh said, but his voice was so faint it seemed to speak from the air itself. "Everything is fine."
Anvay placed his hand on Nirgh's shoulder. The touch was light, but it held a strength—the strength of the earth that bears all things. "Something is troubling you. I can see it. You can trust me."
Nirgh opened his eyes. They held a pain beyond words. "Anvay... do you ever feel that you... that you are a burden? That because of you, your own people are unhappy?"
Anvay's breath caught for a moment. "A burden? Nirgh, how could you be a burden? You... you are the light for all of us. How many times has your fire shown us the way?"
"But this same fire is burning my Father!" Nirgh's voice broke. Tears returned to his eyes. "Because of me, his power has weakened... and now he is missing... who knows where he is... in what condition..."
Anvay pulled him into an embrace. It was a gentle, firm hug. "Listen, Nirgh. Your Father gave you his power to save you. That was his love, not a sacrifice. And love... love never weakens. It strengthens. He will return. He has so much faith in you. You must have faith in him too."
From a distance, Akshansh and Vedika watched the scene. A gentle smile was on Akshansh's lips.
"It seems Anvay has finally broken through his wall," he said.
Vedika nodded, a special light in her eyes—the light she had when healing. "Everyone needs someone to lean on sometime, Prince. Nirgh just needed... someone to be there."
---
In Guru Vishrayan's hut, sunbeams danced with dust motes. Agni stood at the door, deep lines of fatigue and worry etched on his face.
"Gurudev," his voice was little more than a whisper. "I must go. I must find Neer."
The Guru opened his eyes. His eyes held a depth that contained memories of centuries. "Agni," he said, weighing each word. "Sometimes... those we love the most must go far from us. So they can save us from a darkness we ourselves cannot see."
Agni's eyes widened. "Save us? From what? The Shadow? But we defeated it!"
"We defeated its physical form," the Guru said slowly. "Not its shadow. Shadows... they never die. They just wait. For the right time. The right weakness. And love... love is the greatest weakness, Agni. And the greatest strength."
Agni gripped the doorframe, as if losing his balance. "So he... he knew? Neer knew it still exists?"
The Guru did not answer. He simply closed his eyes, returning to his meditation.
---
Night fell again. Nirgh lay on his bed in his chamber, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. The door opened softly.
"Did you know I would come?" Anvay asked, standing at the doorway.
"You always come," Nirgh said, a new softness in his voice. "When I am alone."
Anvay came in and sat on the edge of his bed. "I cannot leave you alone."
Nirgh reached out his hand. Anvay took it. Nirgh's hand was warm, Anvay's cool. Their touch created a balance.
"Will you always be with me?" Nirgh whispered.
"Always," Anvay said, and no more words were needed.
---
Far away, in the deep, secret cave of a mountain, Neer knelt. Before him was a stone altar, and on it lay an object—a damru, but this was no ordinary damru. It was carved from black stone, and the figures etched on it seemed to move. On one side was the face of a deva, serene and compassionate. On the other, the mouth of a rakshasa, open in a silent, eternal scream.
Neer's eyes were fixed on the damru. His face was weary, but his eyes held an unshakeable resolve—the resolve only a parent possesses.
He picked up the damru. It was unbearably cold, like a shard of ice.
"I will save you, Agni," he whispered, his voice echoing back from the cave walls. "And our son. Even if the price is my own soul."
He began to shake the damru. The first, slow shake. A sound resonated—a sound caught between music and a scream.
The second shake.
The air in the cave grew cold. The shadows lengthened.
The third shake.
And then, from the demonic side of the damru, a black mist began to seep out, slowly beginning to take shape. Neer closed his eyes, a prayer trapped on his lips.
Far away, in Tapobhumi, Agni sat up suddenly. A sharp pain pierced his heart, as if an ice stake had been driven into it.
He looked out the window—to the north—and he knew.
"Neer... no... you couldn't have..."
But his heart knew he had. And now, the chain of time was about to break.