"They didn't know it yet, but this quiet night would be their last before everything changed."
Adhiratha sat quietly on the edge of the bed. The room was silent, but his mind wasn't.
His chest still felt heavy — that uneasiness just wouldn't leave. He kept staring at the floor, not even blinking. The same quiet warning kept circling his mind. He didn't understand it. Everything was fine. Radha was happy. The house was peaceful.
So why did it still feel like something bad was waiting?
Just then, a cold breeze came through the small wooden window. The lamps flickered for a moment and then went out. The room was dark now — but Adhiratha didn't notice. He was lost in his thoughts.
A few moments later, a soft sound floated in from the backyard.
He turned his head.
Radha was humming. She was sitting outside in the open courtyard, carefully sewing a yellow cloth. Her voice was calm and sweet. It was a small, happy sound — but it melted something inside him.
Adhiratha slowly breathed out. His chest no longer felt tight.
"I shouldn't keep thinking about what hasn't happened," he told himself. "Radha is smiling. That's what matters. If anything bad ever comes… we'll face it together."
A small smile returned to his lips.
He stood up from the bed and walked quietly toward the backyard.
When Adhiratha reached the backyard door, he stopped.
Radha was sitting on a mat, gently humming to herself. She was completely focused on the yellow dress she was making. A soft blue cloth wrapped around her, and the moonlight fell gently on her face. A light breeze moved the hair near her ear. She looked so peaceful — and somehow even more beautiful under the moonlight.
Adhiratha didn't call her name. He just stood at the door, watching her quietly.
"I'm really lucky," he thought. "I married the most beautiful woman in the world. I've never seen anyone like her."
A small smile formed on his face. His chest felt a little lighter now.
He stepped forward, slowly, and walked toward her — still smiling.
Adhiratha came closer and sat beside Radha.
"So," he said with a grin, "how should I help you make this dress? I promised you, didn't I?"
Radha didn't look up. Her fingers were busy, sewing with quiet concentration.
"You don't have to help," she said calmly. "You may be a great charioteer, but your sewing skills are terrible. Did you forget what you did last time, when you tried to surprise me with a dress?"
Adhiratha gave a dramatic, hurt expression.
"That was just my first try! I've learned a few tricks since then — I can help now!"
This time, Radha looked up sharply.
"Don't make that fake face. Sorry, but I can't take any risks with our son's dress. This is the best cloth we have. If it gets ruined, I won't have time to make another one."
Adhiratha's mouth fell open. He put a hand on his chest like he was truly wounded.
"What! Our son is already your first priority? And you've forgotten me? But you promised you'd never forget me!"
Radha heard him and looked up — only to burst into soft laughter.
Adhiratha was sitting with an exaggerated sad face, hand still over his chest like a betrayed lover from a village drama.
"You're too much," she said, shaking her head.
Then, smiling, she added, "But… you could still help me."
Adhiratha turned his head curiously.
"You can entertain me," she said, smirking. "How? That's up to you."
For a moment, Adhiratha looked confused. His eyebrows lifted. "Entertain?"
Then it clicked.
He looked at her and smiled.
"Radha, you could've just said it," he said softly. "So that's it. You want music tonight, huh?"
She didn't answer, but a smile appeared on her face. She didn't even look up — her fingers kept sewing, careful and steady.
But her silence gave the answer.
Adhiratha stood up, still smiling. "Wait here. I'll be right back."
Adhiratha quickly ran to the bedroom.
The room was dark, quiet — only a pale moonlight slipping through the window. He reached for the oil lamps and lit them one by one, bringing a soft glow into the space.
Then he bent down and pulled out a small trunk from under the bed. He opened it carefully and reached for a wooden box inside — smooth, old, carved with simple but beautiful patterns.
Inside it lay his flute.
He touched its body gently. This wasn't just any flute. It was the last gift from his mother — made by her own hands, before she passed. It had stayed with him ever since.
A smile came to his face.
He put the flute box in its place, closed the trunk, and pushed it back under the bed. Then, with the flute in hand, he stood up again.
His smile widened.
After all, someone very dear was waiting for him in the backyard. He walked out toward her.
Adhiratha walked into the backyard and sat down beside Radha on the mat.
Without saying a word, he lifted the flute to his lips and began to play. The soft notes floated through the air — slow, calm, and full of warmth.
Radha didn't look up at first. She was still focused on making the dress, her fingers moving steadily. But when the music reached her ears, a quiet smile appeared on her face.
She didn't say anything, just kept working — but her smile stayed.
The moonlight fell gently on them, casting a silver glow over the mat. A light breeze moved through the backyard, carrying the soft scent of tulsi, neem, and the other medicinal plants growing all around them.
The whole backyard felt quiet and peaceful, as if even the wind had slowed down to listen.
They didn't know how much time had passed — both lost in their own little world.
Suddenly, Radha shouted with excitement and looked at Adhiratha.
"I finally made it! See how this yellow dress looks?"
Adhiratha stopped playing the flute and smiled at the dress.
"It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen. I've seen many fine ones worn in the king's court — but nothing like this."
When Radha heard what Adhiratha said, she suddenly hugged him, her eyes lighting up with joy.
"I can't wait anymore," she said excitedly. "When will this night end? When will the sunrise come? With the sunrise… finally, our son will come!"
Adhiratha was gently running his fingers through her hair, smiling at her happiness — but then paused, puzzled.
He looked at her and asked, "What do you mean — our son will come with the sunrise?"
Radha blinked and made a sheepish face. "Oh! I forgot to tell you something." She laughed softly. "I got so excited, I skipped the important part."
She leaned back a little, her voice turning softer. "Remember I told you that in my dream, something was blocking me from reaching our son? It wasn't just that… I also heard a voice. It wasn't coming from a person. It felt like… like it was coming from the air, the trees, from everywhere around me."
She paused, then tried to recall the exact words.
"He comes with the sunrise. Go to the riverbank. But remember one thing… the gate ahead opens only to empty hands. What you hold must be let go."
She looked at Adhiratha with wide, shining eyes.
"I don't understand the rest... but I just felt it. He's coming tomorrow. I know it."
Her voice dropped, thoughtful. "Do you think something bad might happen?"
But without waiting for his reply, she hugged him tightly again, resting her head against his chest.
"I don't care. I'm not afraid. I have you. You'll be with me, no matter what I have to face."
When Adhiratha heard it, that strange ache in his heart returned. His instincts screamed that something was about to go wrong — something big. A fear crept in quietly, whispering that he might lose something precious. He didn't let it show — he couldn't scare Radha. Instead, he hugged her tightly and gently rested his hand on her head. With a soft laugh, he said, "Don't worry. Whatever comes, I'll be with you. We'll face it together. Whatever it is — we'll handle it."
Then, trying to shift her mind away from worry, he added with a smile,
"Now come on, let's get some sleep. If you're right, and our son is really coming at sunrise, you'll need to rest. It's already very late. If you don't sleep now, how will you have the energy to play with him tomorrow? You need to stay healthy — for him."
Radha smiled and shook her head gently.
"Then let's sleep here — in the backyard, under the moonlight. Just like the old days."
Adhiratha smiled and nodded. "Alright then," he said softly.
They lay down together on the mat. The soft moonlight fell gently over them, and a cool breeze moved through the nearby rows of medicinal plants. Radha rested her head on Adhiratha's chest — her second-safest place in the world, the first being her father's arms in childhood. She closed her eyes, listening to the calm rhythm of his heartbeat. Adhiratha wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair slowly, helping her drift into sleep. A quiet smile stayed on both their faces as they slipped into slumber.
But that smile on Adhiratha's face didn't last long.
His sleep twisted into a nightmare.
In the dream, he woke up suddenly — still lying in the backyard, but Radha was gone. He sat up, confused.
"Maybe she went inside?" he thought.
The night air felt strange. Cold. The moonlight had vanished behind thick, dark red clouds churning across the sky. The wind had turned sharp, harsh, rising like a storm from nowhere.
He stood up and hurried inside.
"Radha?" he called out.
No answer.
The house was drowned in darkness. He lit a lamp, but as soon as he stepped forward, a sudden gust of wind blew through the hallway, snuffing it out.
"Radha?" he called louder, his voice now edged with fear.
He checked every room.
Nothing. She was nowhere.
He rushed back into the backyard, shouting her name over and over.
"Radha! Radha!"
There was no reply.
Only silence.
Author's Note:
Hello everyone… I'm really sorry for the delay.
I had promised to upload Chapter 5 on 2nd August, but today is already 4th. I posted Chapter 4 on 31st July and planned everything — but, like always, whenever I try to focus on something new, life finds a way to interrupt. This time, it's family issues… and well, I'm sure my Indian readers will understand how relatives can be. Sometimes, it feels like they don't have their own lives and just want to interfere in ours.
To be honest, I lost motivation for a while. But when I opened Webnovel and saw two more people had added my book to their library — that gave me hope again. It reminded me that maybe my story can work here. Maybe I'm not just wasting time.
About this chapter — I know it has some mistakes, and maybe the quality isn't as good as the earlier ones. But I've kept it that way on purpose. I want to leave it in its raw form and invite you, my readers, to spot any lines or moments that felt off — and suggest better alternatives. If I use your suggestion, I'll mention your name in the next Author's Note as a thank-you for being a serious and supportive reader.
And now… after reading this chapter, I think you've already sensed it — a storm is coming in Radha and Adhiratha's life. But just how big will it be?
If you're curious, leave a comment below and don't forget to add this book to your library (if you haven't already) and vote with a power stone to keep me going. Your support really, really matters.
Thank you so much for reading.
— TheYugantaraQuill