Tara couldn't run.
Her feet refused to listen. Her breath stuck in her throat. The world—Mumbai, her street, her life—blurred until all she could see was the monster made of shadows crawling toward her.
Its fingers were too long. Its movements too jerky. Its face… nonexistent.
But it knew her.
"Taarini…" it hissed, voice like metal dragged across stone. "Your flame… is mine."
Tara's heart thudded wildly.
Aarav stepped in front of her, his arm stretched protectively across her body.
"Tara," he murmured, voice low and steady, "I need you to breathe."
"I—WHAT—NO—THAT—THING—IS—"
"It will not touch you."
Something in the way he said it—calm, absolute—made her chest tighten.
Like he wasn't promising.
He was swearing.
The creature lunged.
Aarav moved.
And Tara's world shattered into two versions of reality:
The one she knew. School. Friends. Homework. Bus stops.
And this one. A boy glowing with ancient symbols, fighting a creature made of nightmares.
Aarav slid his foot back, hand glowing again. Golden sigils swirled around his wrist, spiraling down his arm like molten constellations.
Then—
He struck.
WHOOOM—!
Light exploded outward.
The shadow shrieked, bursting into ash and smoke.
Tara collapsed to her knees, gasping.
Aarav turned instantly, kneeling beside her.
His eyes—dark brown with gold flecks she'd never noticed before—searched her face like he was memorizing every breath.
"Taarini, are you hurt?"
"My name," she rasped, "is Tara. Tara Mehta. I don't know who you think I am—what that THING was—why it wanted me—"
Her voice cracked. The panic finally crashed through her chest.
Aarav reached out—
Then stopped inches from her arm, as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch her.
"It wanted you because of what you carry," he said softly. "What has always been inside you."
Tara stared at him.
"What are you talking about? I'm just… me."
"No," Aarav whispered. "You are the Last Flame. The living remnant of a warrior who should have died before ever touching the earth."
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
"What flame? What warrior? Why are you even here?!"
Aarav glanced around, scanning the street.
Tara noticed it then— the way the air around him shimmered faintly, like heat rising from a bonfire.
He stood.
"Tara, it's not safe here. Shadows can come again. We must move."
"No. NO. Stop. You don't get to—just grab me and—fight demons and—call me ancient names—"
Her voice trembled.
Aarav's expression softened.
"I understand that you're afraid."
"You're very calm about all this!"
"I've had many years to prepare."
"YEARS?!" Tara sputtered.
Aarav paused.
"…that was not the reassuring part."
The Walk Home Aarav didn't touch her. He simply walked ahead, glancing back often as though expecting another attack.
Tara followed reluctantly—her legs shaking the whole way.
The air felt different.
Heavy. Charged. Watching.
Her house came into view—a simple two-floor home with potted plants and a chipped blue gate.
Everything looked normal.
But Tara wasn't.
A burning sensation coiled in her chest—warm, flickering, alive.
As if someone had lit a flame beneath her ribcage.
Aarav stopped at her doorway.
"Taarini—"
"Tara."
He exhaled through his nose.
"…Tara. I need you to listen carefully. Your powers have started to awaken, which means things far worse than shadows will come."
"You keep talking like I'm part of some prophecy—"
"You are."
"No, I refuse—"
"You can refuse after you're safe."
"SAFE?! From what?!"
Aarav hesitated.
Then he lifted his eyes to hers.
"There are beings in this world who have been searching for you since the day you were born."
Tara's stomach flipped.
"Why?"
"Because you are the only one who can stop what is coming."
"What's coming?"
Aarav opened his mouth—
But the porch light above Tara's door flickered.
Tara and Aarav froze.
The bulb blinked once—
twice—
then burst.
CRACK—!
Sparks rained down.
Aarav grabbed Tara's wrist and yanked her backward.
"Inside," he ordered. "Now."
Inside Tara's House The living room was warm, ordinary, safe.
Aarav seemed out of place—too ancient, too intense, too glowing-in-a-mythological-way.
"Sit," he instructed.
"No. Start explaining!" Tara shot back.
Aarav exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose like someone who'd spent lifetimes dealing with people not listening.
Finally, he spoke.
"Long ago, during the Kurukshetra war—"
"Oh God, this is a Mahabharata speech? Are you serious—?"
"—a warrior named Abhimanyu died before he could complete his destiny."
Tara blinked.
"Wait." "Wait wait wait."
Aarav's gaze locked onto hers.
"Yes."
"You're telling me I'm descended from—Abhimanyu? That Abhimanyu? The Chakravyuh guy?"
"Yes."
Tara choked on her own spit.
"That's—NO—okay—this is—INSANE—"
"Yet it is true."
"What next? You'll tell me I'm supposed to fight demons with a laser bow?"
Aarav didn't answer.
Which was worse than an answer.
Tara sank onto the couch, trembling.
Aarav sat across from her, posture straight, jaw tight.
"There is a flame inside you," he said quietly. "It awakens slowly. Painfully. Once it is fully lit… the world will change."
Tara stared at him with wide eyes.
"I don't want to change the world."
"That is not your choice."
"Well it SHOULD be!"
Aarav rubbed a hand across his jaw.
"Would you prefer to talk after the shadows come for you again?"
Tara froze.
Her throat tightened.
"…no."
"Good."
He leaned forward with a softness she didn't expect.
His voice lowered.
"Tara. I know this is overwhelming. I know none of this feels real. But I made a vow long ago—to protect you. I will not let anything happen to you."
Her breath hitched.
His sincerity felt…
Dangerous.
Warm. Solid. Like standing too close to a bonfire.
The air between them seemed to hum.
Tara tore her gaze away.
"I need… I need a moment."
Aarav nodded.
"You may take it. But do not misunderstand. Your awakening has begun. And once it starts…" His eyes darkened. "…there is no stopping it."
The burning in Tara's chest pulsed again.
Once. Twice. Harder.
She pressed her hand over her heart.
It felt like something inside her was trying to wake up.
Trying to be seen.
Aarav stood, sensing the shift.
"Taarini—Tara—"
The lights in her house flickered violently.
A cold wind swept through the room.
Tara looked up.
Her reflection in the mirror across the hall was glowing— a faint lotus shape burning in the center of her chest.
Her breath caught.
Aarav's voice was barely a whisper.
"It has begun."
The flame inside her flared—
And the mirror shattered.