Prologue
Life always comes full circle…
Long, long ago, before man learned to perfect the art of fire or understood the mysteries of the zero and the wonders of the circle, there were two immortal races of supernatural beings: the devas and the danavas. Who ruled a land bound by the Vindhyas to the north and the sea on its three sides. This land was called the Saptavarsha.
Part 1
STUPALA
Chapter 1: An Ancient Tale of Betrayal
Stupala, Forest Kingdom of Danavas
Ara faced her pursuers, her fists clenched so tight she lost feeling in her fingers. She had limped and dragged her sore body all the way to the raised step that ringed the circular hall. Her leg throbbed insistently from a knife wound. Blood painted her painful progress through the hall in crimson footprints, but muted its savage intensity into the deep red of her saree, hiding the extent of her injuries.
A small elite group of devas had cornered her in the hall, brandishing maces, swords, and javelins. The body of her guard lay dead a short distance away, crushed under a wall that had collapsed when the intruders forced their way in. A split-second decision that had saved her life but ended his, when he had pushed her out of harm’s way.
Her mind played their last interaction.
“Why do you call me queen? Where are my parents? My sisters? My brothers?”
Her guard had answered without bothering to turn toward her, his sword cutting a way through the dense battle happening inside their palace. “Open your eye, Princess.Acknowledge the truth. Everyone is dead, apart from your father. He has gone missing. There is no one left. You are to be the queen now. We must flee.” He took her hand once again as they ran toward the secret entryway.
That was before they realized the secret entrance was compromised too. A rogue group of devas had waylaid them, cutting off their escape.
Grief burned her throat and parched her eyes of tears. She cried in her heart for the dead guard. Like she had mourned the death of many others she had been witnessing since…was it just this morning? When the devas had laid a sudden siege to their forest kingdom. Family, friends, and acquaintances. They seemed to spare no one.
Through the partially demolished wall, screams and the sounds of battle floated in. She knew without looking most of them belonged to her people, the danavas.
Ara didn’t know how or why they were losing so badly, when they had weathered worse storms before. She held out hope, for as long as her father, the patriarch of their clan, was alive, their kingdom wouldn’t fall. He was the most powerful danava of this dimension and defeat had never touched him.
One among the group of devas stepped forward and removed his helmet, uncovering a face of exquisite beauty, with dark wavy hair and midnight eyes, a familiar face that had become as dear to her as her own.
“Dhanu?!” she gasped in shock, lifting trembling fingers to her mouth. It took her a moment to understand the significance of his presence here, now, wearing an armor emblazoned with the symbol of the sun. An armor exclusive to the devas and impossible to be worn by other races.
Why? Why did he have to be a deva?A sob built up in her chest only to be choked down. She had loved him with all her heart. The day her family approved of their union was one of thehappiest days in her life. Her betrayed gaze demanded answers, but he merely unsheathed his sword and moved forward, his impassive visage giving nothing away.
An arm barred Dhanu from walking toward her.
“Have you forgotten her powers?” another deva from the group said. “She is their princess. She’ll smite us all to death before we even take a step forward.”
“What makes you think I wouldn’t do it now?” she said, her mouth forming the words by reflex, but her mind still reeled with the recent revelations. She wondered how much more her battered heart could take before it gave up.
A prickling in her left eye made her look up, and she spotted an invisible ribbon of power floating toward her, sedate and undulating in the still air. Her heart thudded seeing it.
No!
She shrank from it, mouthing her denial as more tears squeezed out of her eyes—she seemed to have some left in her, after all. The bank of power came forward inexorably, her reluctance notwithstanding, and merged into her right eye, settling inside. No one could see what had just happened; although, she saw Dhanu’s eyes narrow.
Her knees threatened to buckle under a fresh onslaught of grief.
Her father was dead. This was his power that came to her, and was now coursing through her like lightning.
The danava royal family shared the burden of their unique magic, and with each death, it redistributed among the remaining members. She was the only one left, and the magical abilities of their entire immediate family now resided in her.
Their voices echoed inside her head. Memories of her siblings’ lives, grief amplified tenfold, happier moments that now struck a bittersweet tenor—a cacophony that made herwonder if she was going mad. Was she Ara still? Or a weird entity that carried the collective consciousness of her family?
Through it all, one thought rang clear and bright—she was responsible for the destruction all around. She was the one who had vouched for Dhanu, the traitor who turned out to be a deva in disguise.
