10

Could It Be Her?

The air was charged with festivity as the grand Narsimbha Mahaotsav unfolded in the kingdom of Simhasan Dhara. The evening sky was painted in hues of gold and crimson, its reflection shimmering in the tranquil waters of the grand lake of the royal temple, located at the heart of the kingdom. Torches lined the cobblestone paths, their flames dancing with the rhythm of the breeze. Intricate carvings adorned the towering sandstone walls, while fragrant garlands of marigold and jasmine draped the entrances of the sprawling palace grounds.

A restless figure strode through the celebration, his sharp features clouded by frustration.

Veer Suryavanshi.

His purpose was singular—to find someone, though the identity of his target eluded him like a shadow in the night. And to add on to his frustration existed the king of Simhasan Dhara. He despised festivals the most, and that's what exactly Rajveer asked him to get involved in.

“Only for you, Rajveer.” he muttered under his breath, recalling his old friend's insistence. Of course if it hadn't been his insistence then he would have never joined this celebration.

As Veer walked through the pathways, his keen eyes scanned the surroundings. The absence of market stalls or garish decorations gave the festival an air of refined elegance. Instead, the focus was on artistry and devotion. The temple was adorned with intricately designed floral rangolis, and large lamps hung from ancient banyan trees, casting an ethereal glow. Musicians played lilting tunes on veenas and flutes, their notes mingling with the faint chants of priests offering prayers to Lord Narsimbha.

Veer's tension only grew as he got nearer, where the most devout offerings to the deity were made, his thoughts were interrupted. A melody reached his ears—a sound so pure, so ethereal, it was as though the heavens themselves had descended to bless this gathering.

His footsteps slowed. The melody pulled him, tugging at his very core, and without realizing, he turned toward its source. The main courtyard was a grand open-air arena, framed by intricately carved arches and a massive golden idol of Lord Narsimha, whose fierce yet protective gaze watched over the proceedings.

In the center of the courtyard, beneath the glow of a hundred golden lamps, a lone dancer moved with the grace of a swan. Her lithe form was adorned in the vibrant reds and golds of ancient India, her ankles jingling softly with every precise step. A dupatta veiled her face, adding an air of mystery to her presence. Her movements were fluid yet powerful, narrating the tale of Lord Narsimha's divine rage and compassion through Bharatanatyam.

Veer was transfixed. The fire within him that had simmered with frustration now froze, caught in awe of this woman’s artistry. Her hands wove mudras of devotion, her feet struck the floor in rhythmic reverence, and her form seemed to radiate divine energy.

Then, it happened. In the middle of a spin, her veil shifted, and her face turned toward him. Grey eyes, like twin storms, locked with his.

Veer's breath caught. Those eyes—so familiar, so achingly distant—struck him with the force of a memory he had been trying to forget. The melody faded into the background as a flash of images flooded his mind.

The forest, the attack, that lake, and most importantly those eterna grey orbs.

The melody of the festival still echoed in his ears, pulling him back from his thoughts, but all he could see were those grey eyes. The feminine figure, her movements graceful and otherworldly, turned once more, her veil shifting just enough for her gaze to meet his.

His heart pounded as a single thought consumed him:

'Could it be her?'

Before he could dwell further on the thought, a piercing cry reverberated through the festival grounds, an ominous sound that sent a shiver through the crowd. The dancers faltered, musicians stilled their hands, and the air, once filled with joyous celebration, grew heavy with dread.The piercing cry echoed like a war drum, silencing the music and freezing the gathering in a sudden wave of dread. The air, once thick with devotion and festivity, grew tense with the scent of danger. Veer’s eyes flicked to the source of the sound—a shadow darting through the sky, fast and predatory, the outline of vast wings cutting against the moonlight.

Another cry followed, this one closer, and then chaos erupted. The ground trembled, and an unnatural gust of wind swept through the courtyard, extinguishing the lamps and plunging the gathering into near darkness. The crowd scattered, screams rising like a tidal wave.

Veer didn’t flinch. His hand instinctively reached for the hilt of the blade strapped to his waist—a weapon not forged of ordinary steel, but one blessed by celestial flames, its edge burning with an otherworldly glow.

From the shadows of the temple arches, figures emerged—clad in obsidian armor that shimmered with a strange, iridescent light. Their eyes gleamed like molten gold, and with a synchronized motion, they raised their hands. Veer felt the sharp crackle of energy building in the air. Bolts of jagged, blue lightning shot forth, striking the marble tiles where the crowd had stood moments earlier.

The Eagle Clan.

Veer’s jaw tightened, his lips curling into a dangerous smirk. "So they dare." he muttered, stepping forward with a stride that radiated command.

A figure lunged toward him, moving unnaturally fast. Veer’s blade was a blur as he struck, slicing through the air. The flame-wreathed edge clashed against the intruder’s weapon—a curved dagger glowing with black energy. Sparks flew, illuminating Veer’s eyes, which now glowed faintly with an amber light, a mark of his bloodline’s celestial heritage.

"Stand down if you value your life." Veer growled, his voice sharp and unwavering.

The attacker snarled, swinging again, but Veer sidestepped with ease, twisting his blade and slashing through the shadowy armor. The figure dissolved into smoke, its essence hissing into the air.

Another bolt of energy streaked toward him from behind. Veer raised his free hand, and a barrier of golden light flared to life around him, absorbing the attack with a thunderous crack. He turned, eyes scanning for more threats, and froze for a moment when he saw her.

The woman with stormy grey eyes had not fled like the others. Instead, she stood in the center of the chaos, her movements calm yet deliberate. Veer watched as her hands formed shapes, pulling energy from the air itself. A moment later, a burst of pale, iridescent light shot from her palms, striking one of the Eagle Clan attackers. The impact sent the figure hurtling into a stone pillar, which cracked under the force.

Veer’s lips twitched, though his mind reeled. Who was she? And how did she possess such power?

Another attacker leapt toward her, claws crackling with dark energy, but before Veer could intervene, she spun gracefully, summoning a swirling shield of light. The claws met the barrier with a deafening shriek, and the attacker was thrown back, their armor scorched by her magic.

"You fight well." Veer said, his voice cutting through the noise as he stepped beside her.

Her eyes met his, sharp and unyielding, though she said nothing.

"Stay close." he added, before darting forward with the speed of a storm. His blade arced in a blazing streak, cleaving through another enemy.

The two fought as though caught in a deadly dance, their powers weaving together in perfect, unspoken harmony. Where Veer’s strikes burned with fiery intensity, hers shone with a cold, unrelenting brilliance. Their attackers fell one by one, dissolving into dark mist as the energy sustaining them faded.

Yet the fight was far from over. The sky above churned, and a new figure descended—a commander, his armor lined with jagged feathers that seemed alive, pulsating with black energy. His presence carried a weight that stilled the air, his golden eyes narrowing as they locked onto Veer.

"You should have stayed in your palace, Crown Prince." the commander said, his voice a deep, ominous rumble.

Veer didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his blade raised, and his aura flaring with the light of the heavens. "You’ve made a grave mistake coming here."

As the battle raged on, Veer’s thoughts lingered on the enigmatic woman fighting by his side. He didn’t know her name, her purpose, or why her power resonated so strongly with his own. But one thing was certain—this night would change everything.

◍⁠✧⁠*⁠。

Dear readers,

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter of Desolated Hearts. Please don't forget to like this chapter and follow my accounts on both Instagram and stck.me, as I will keep updating you with the story.

Write a comment ...

Sneh

Show your support

Please support my work.

Write a comment ...