"Some legacies are not inherited… they are earned through scars."
Night had just begun to fall over the Temple of Aakriti, where ancient prophecies were etched in obsidian and silver. But the air was restless, vibrating — as if the wind itself carried secrets from realms beyond.
Inside, the reunited trio — Avantika, Devsena, and Samaira — stood before a great stone mural. Behind them, Vrinda and Samridhi looked on with cautious hope.
But something still lingered.
Something… unfinished.
Samaira stepped forward, her fingers tracing the runes on the stone wall. With each glyph, a pulse of shadow flickered behind her eyes.
Devsena noticed.
"That's not just elemental energy, is it?"
Samaira replied slowly.
"No. It's deeper… ancestral. It's calling me."
Avantika felt it too — a tether between them that wasn't just sibling-like… it was cosmic.
Suddenly, the mural shimmered.
A concealed door opened, revealing a staircase spiraling downward — into the Underspire, the realm that held the truth of shadow magic and the guardians who once wielded it.
Rudraksh had tried to master it.
But one true heir had been born — and hidden.
Samaira.
As they descended, shadows crawled over the walls, whispering names of forgotten wielders. One word kept echoing louder than the rest:
"Anvaya."
— a title, not a name.
— it meant "The one who remembers all threads."
In the heart of the Underspire stood the Shrine of Varuna, god of cosmic balance.
There, a relic floated — a dagger carved from a dying star, dipped in Void, wrapped in Time. The Astravaal.
Samaira walked to it.
It pulsed in sync with her heartbeat.
Suddenly — darkness flared.
Not evil… but raw truth.
A vision unfolded — the real reason Vrinda's daughters were marked, why Samaira was created, and who stood behind all of it.
A cloaked figure appeared in the vision, whispering:
"Balance was never meant to be peaceful…
It requires conflict.
It demands sacrifice."
"And Samaira… you are the fulcrum."
The vision faded.
Avantika steadied herself.
"You're not just our sister. You're the key to ending all of this."
Samaira, holding the Astravaal, nodded.
"But keys can also lock away the wrong future."
And just as they began to ascend back up…
A new figure stood at the temple doors.
Clad in obsidian armor, his face hidden by a broken mask.
His voice, cold:
"Then it's time you meet the one who forged your prophecy… your real father."
The girls froze.
Vrinda gasped.
"No… it can't be…"