Rashi stood in the training chamber. Her body sore, her breath uneven from hours of ritual grounding. Gabriel had left her alone with one task—meditate, and resist all temptation.
But when she closed her eyes…
She was no longer in the church.
She was back home.
In her childhood room.
The smell of incense and sandalwood drifted in from the hallway. The soft humming of a lullaby…
“Tere bina lagta nahi hai jeeya…”
She turned.
And there stood her mother. Manpreet Arora. Draped in a soft peach saree, hair tied neatly, eyes moist with longing.
“Rashi,” she whispered. “Meri bachi…”
Rashi took a step back. “No. You’re not real.”
Her mother smiled sadly. “So much pain you carry… and you still think I’m the monster?”
“I saw what you did. What you made Meher do. What you wanted from me. That wasn’t love.”
“But you think this is love?” her mother stepped closer, hand over Rashi’s belly. “To carry a cursed child into war? To protect a life born from both light and shadow? You think he will survive either world?”
Rashi’s lips trembled.
“You’re afraid,” the vision whispered. “Not for him. For yourself. Because you know the only way to save him… is to give him up.”
“No!” Rashi screamed. “I won’t give him to your darkness. Or anyone’s!”
Suddenly, the room cracked like glass.
Walls shattered.
The floor splintered into screaming mouths.
The dream dissolved into chaos as the illusion shrieked, revealing its true form—a hollow-eyed puppet stitched with her mother’s voice.
But Rashi, glowing faintly now, raised both hands and shouted the sacred mantra Gabriel had taught her.
> “Ad majorem lucem—ego protegam!”
A blast of light surged through her, hurling the creature back into the void.
She fell to her knees, gasping—shaking—but unbroken.
---
Part II: Shadows at Home
Back in the Arora household, darkness fell heavy.
Jagjit Arora sat before a pentacle drawn in goat blood, surrounded by burning red candles. Manpreet stood behind him, chanting incantations from the Book of Echoed Ashes. Beside them, a bowl of blackened salt began to hiss.
Tonight, they were attempting to locate the child.
“Her aura is sealed,” Manpreet muttered. “She’s hiding him. We need a blood marker. Something closer.”
Jagjit sliced open his palm and let the blood drip into the bowl.
From the shadows, Rishi emerged, eyes burning with silent hatred for the child yet unborn.
“Do it,” he whispered. “Before she binds it forever.”
But…
Unseen behind the curtain, Meher watched.
Heart pounding.
Fists clenched.
She had memorized the counter-chants. Father Neil had once whispered them to her in a secret church visit long ago—before her family burned the place down.
As Jagjit raised his dagger to complete the ritual, Meher opened her silver locket, a tiny cross hidden inside.
She whispered a counter-prayer under her breath:
> “Solis lumen obfuscat umbras…”
The flame in the bowl sputtered.
The dagger trembled.
Jagjit frowned. “Why isn’t it showing anything? It’s—flickering.”
Manpreet growled, “It’s being tampered with!”
But Meher was already gone—slipping quietly down the stairs, her locket closed once more.
“I’ll buy you time, Rashi,” she whispered. “Just don’t stop fighting…”
---
Part III: The Lightkeeper’s Words
Back in the cathedral, Rashi awoke with a cry.
Gabriel was waiting.
“You faced her.”
Rashi nodded, tears falling.
“She tried to twist my love. Said I’d lose him if I fought for him.”
Gabriel looked at her belly—his eyes glowing gold.
“You didn’t just protect yourself,” he said. “You shielded a soul not yet born.”
Rashi blinked. “I don’t even know how long it’s been—”
Gabriel interrupted gently, “You’re almost two months in, Rashi.”
Her world spun.
“Two…?”
“You carry more than flesh. He is bonded to a line of power darker than most angels ever face. He will be hunted from the moment he opens his eyes.”
Her lips quivered. “Will he live?”
Gabriel placed two fingers on her wrist. “If you live.”
“And if I fall?”
He stared at her, voice like thunder in the silence:
Write a comment ...