**Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, thus does not revolve around the real world. Any kind of words or incidents mentioned does not signify anything related to the real world. **
After the Ill-Fated Night
After that night of horror and heartbreak, Shivantika somehow managed to evade the searching soldiers. Her body was weak, her heart shattered, but her will to survive burned like a dim, flickering flame. She remembered her mother's final instructions and rushed through the corridors towards her mother's chamber, hoping the secret passage still remained untouched.
She stumbled over corpses and the crumbled ruins of what had once been her home. Her silk lehenga was soaked in blood and ash, her hands scraped from crawling in hidden corners. But she didn't stop—not until she reached the vase her mother had mentioned.
With trembling fingers, she rotated the golden vase. For a moment, nothing happened—and then, a soft click echoed, and a section of the wall slowly swung open, revealing a passage hidden so well it could easily be mistaken for part of the decor.
Just then, she heard muffled voices outside the chamber.
"Shh…! I hear voices from inside this room. Let's check this as well. We need to find that princess, or the master won't forgive us," whispered a soldier of Braheshwat. Though hushed, his voice was clear enough for Shivantika to hear.
Panicked, she slipped inside and shut the door behind her. Tears streamed down her cheeks—not just from fear, but the overwhelming grief of losing everything she had ever known. Once the door shut, the passage vanished into the wall like it had never existed.
Inside, it was pitch dark. The air was thick and stale, the silence absolute. She inched forward, hand trailing along the damp stone wall. Then—a faint glow appeared in the distance. A gate, partially open, with flickering light pouring from beyond.
She quickened her pace, drawn to it like a moth to flame, but in her weakened state, she tripped. Her body slammed against the stone floor. Before she could recover, something bit her ankle.
"A mosquito…?" she mumbled, trying to shake it off, but as she limped forward, her foot began to swell and discolor.
She reached the exit just as she heard more footsteps echoing behind her. Panic seized her. She tried to run, but her vision blurred. Her leg went numb. The last thing she saw before collapsing was a shadowy figure approaching—then everything went black.
***
A New Dawn
Shivantika slowly regained consciousness in a modest, wooden cottage. The scent of herbs hung in the air, and sunlight filtered through a single window. Though her mind was hazy, she could hear voices and feel a presence beside her.
When her eyes opened, she recognized the man sitting by her side. His face was aged, lined with time and sorrow, but gentle and familiar.
"Mama…?" she whispered hoarsely.
He turned to her with misty eyes and gently touched her forehead. "Don't speak too much, child. Your strength hasn't returned yet. But you're safe now."
He wasn't her blood uncle, but to her, he was family. He had been her mother's sworn brother, a childhood friend bound to her mother by loyalty deeper than blood.
"I thought you… you might be…" she tried to say.
"I know," he interrupted softly. "The Maharaja, the Maharani, your little brother… I know, my dear. They're gone. So is Ampranam. But I've kept my promise to your mother. You're alive. That's what matters."
She fought back tears. "How did you survive, Mama? Why hasn't Braheshwat touched this village?"
Her uncle gave her a small, sad smile. "Long ago, when the old king of Braheshwat fell gravely ill, none of their physicians could cure him. My father, then the chief healer of this village, treated and saved him. In gratitude, a treaty was made: this village of healers was never to be harmed—not by him or his descendants. That promise, at least, they've kept."
At that moment, the door flew open. A young woman rushed in—her hair disheveled, her face pale with fear.
"Father! She's been given the antidote to the snake venom," she said breathlessly, "but the soldiers… they're here. It's not safe anymore."
"Then you know what to do," her father said grimly. "Pack everything essential. Take her to her destination. I'll hold them off and follow as soon as I can."
That girl was Nayantara—his daughter, and Shivantika's childhood acquaintance. Nayantara nodded and immediately began gathering clothes, food, gold, and sacred medical texts.
Shivantika sat up, still weak. "Nayantara… what's happening? Are they coming for me?"
"I think so," she said softly. "We have to move."
Suddenly, the cottage shook with a loud bang. The front door burst open. They heard shouting—soldiers demanding answers—and her uncle arguing with them.
Then came a sound Shivantika would never forget. A muffled scream. A gurgle. Then… silence.
She covered her mouth to stop from crying out.
"We need to go," Nayantara whispered, gripping her hand. "Now."
They crept out through the back, slipping into the shadows of the nearby trees. From a safe distance, they turned back—and what they saw crushed them both.
The village was in flames. Smoke curled into the sky. People screamed. Blood flowed through the streets. Even the children were not spared.
Nayantara dropped to her knees, sobbing. "This was my home…"
Shivantika pulled her to her feet. "We can't stop now. We have to go."
As they fled, a man appeared from the edge of the trees.
"Nayan! You're alive!" he exclaimed.
Shivantika stepped back in alarm.
"It's okay," Nayantara assured her. "This is Rajveer, my neighbor. He's safe. Rajveer—this is my cousin, Shubhangi."
Shivantika blinked, confused. Shubhangi?
Nayantara leaned close and whispered, "We can't reveal your identity. Not yet."
Rajveer nodded. "It's good to see more survivors. But we need to keep moving."
"I know where we can go," Shivantika offered cautiously. "To the Shi State."
Rajveer hesitated. "That's a long journey. And dangerous. How do we even get there?"
"I know someone in Kayati who can help us," Nayantara said.
Rajveer's eyes widened. "Kayati? That's the capital of Braheshwat! It's suicide."
"I know what I'm doing," Nayantara replied firmly.
Just then, footsteps. Fast and heavy. A soldier in Braheshwat uniform charged at them with a drawn blade.
Rajveer didn't hesitate. He stepped in front of the girls, shifted his stance, and met the soldier head-on. After a flurry of blows, he used a pressure-point technique that made the soldier collapse.
They tied him up. When he came to, they questioned him. Who ordered the attack? Why the village? Who were they after?
But instead of speaking, the soldier bit down on something hidden beneath his sleeve. His body convulsed. Foam appeared at his mouth. In moments, he was dead.
"What was that?" Shivantika whispered. "Poison?"
Nayantara nodded grimly. "They're silencing their own men."
***
Disguises and Departures
"We need to leave. Now," Nayantara said. She pulled out three small vials. "These pills will help us. They'll slightly alter our appearance—make our skin paler, change our eyes a bit. We'll pass as travelers from Shi."
Rajveer raised an eyebrow. "Will that really work?"
Nayantara nodded. "Yes. There's an old treaty made generations ago between Shi, Ampranam, and Braheshwat. According to it, even in the worst of wars, no soldier from Braheshwat is allowed to harm travelers or emissaries from Shi. We use that to our advantage."
Shivantika hesitated, but took the pill. One by one, they consumed the bitter concoction.
Moments later, their appearances began to shift. Their skin tones lightened, their eyes appeared smaller, their faces less familiar.
"Also," Nayantara said, handing over some clothes, "wear these hanfu-style robes. If they believe we're from Shi, the old treaty will protect us. They won't dare strike us down."
Rajveer grinned. "Nayan, you really are clever."
Shivantika tied up her hair, adjusted her robes, and looked at her reflection in a pool of water. She hardly recognized herself.
With that, the trio gathered their things and began their perilous journey—first to Kayati, and then, hopefully, to the Shi State, where safety—and answers—awaited.