They say fear is a stranger to the strong. But even he fears what he is — and she, aching in body and spirit, feels the weight of a choice she does not yet understand.
~~~~~
"I will be back in a minute," Kaankuwar murmurs to Shaamvi.
Before she can reply, he slips into the quiet stretch of her front yard, moving like a shadow. Hidden from sight, he leaps onto the roof with the silent ease of a predator.
The butterfly is nowhere.
Only the roof's cool tiles beneath his feet, the hush of sleeping leaves.
Then—he turns—There it is.
Floating before his face, wings as black as ink yet edged with a faint, shifting glimmer.
It hovers without a single beat of its wings, too steady for something alive, too present for something imagined.
Its gaze—if a creature so small could possess one—holds him as firmly as chains.
KaanKuwar's hand flashes out, faster than a mortal eye could follow—but the butterfly shivers, dissolving midair into a twisting shadow. The shadow lashes past him like a blade of cold wind.
He spins, and a glow flicker along the edges of his claws, heat curling in the air — but the shadow is already gone.
It vanished into the air as though it was never there.
Kaankuwar drops back to the yard and takes his place beside Shaamvi.
"Where were you?" She asks, her voice low and breaking.
"Nowhere," he says.
Stanzin kneels, still whispering his prayer.
"Lord Hari, please guide this fallen soul… O Lord Sun, fill her path with light so she may reach her destination."
At last, he rises. "It is done. Let us bury her."
"Can I… do the last rite for this owl?" Kaankuwar asks quietly.
He gathers the small body, wrapped in cloth, holding it with reverence. "Is there a field nearby with… good vibrational energy?"
"Yes," Shaamvi answers through the ache in her voice. "West of here—flowers grow there. But beware, the people nearby are ordinary."
"I'll be careful," he says.
"Take Stanzin with you," she suggests.
"No. You need someone here to watch over you. I won't be long."
He leaves the boundary of her home, runs until he finds a field with fragrant night blooming flowers . Beneath a flowering tree, he digs the earth with steady hands and lays the owl to rest.
When the soil settles, light blooms. A white, spectral owl rises from the ground, her feathers shimmering.
"Thank you", she says in her own tongue, before vanishing into the night like a star.
Back at the house, Shaamvi's body feels as if it's collapsing in on itself—bones aching deep, muscles trembling, and the metallic tang of blood at her teeths.
Stanzin lifts her and carries her to her bedroom. She sinks against the headboard, breath shallow.
"I will do…the ritual to lift your curse, don't worry" Stanzin says, handing her water.
Shaamvi nods.
Then his tone sharpens. "Who is he? The man with you… no, not a man. Not even human."
"He helped me when this spell attacked me," she answers.
"So you brought him here? Are you out of your mind?"
"He is not—" she begins, but Stanzin cuts across her.
"He is an unknown creature. Don't you understand the severity?"
Outside, Kaankuwar returns. The yard is empty, the front door open. He knocks once—no answer. He steps in, following the faint thread of voices.
"….An unknown creature." Stanzin is saying.
Kaankuwar pauses in the shadow of a half-closed door, leaning against the wall, listening.
"But… he is not a bad person," Shaamvi says.
"He is not a person," Stanzin replies coldly.
"Do you even know what he is?"
"No," she admits.
"Exactly. And you still trust him? He could be a monster. He could be dangerous."
Silence. Shaamvi stares at the floor, Stanzin's words sinking deep. Could he be dangerous? Am I misjudging him?
And outside the doorway, Kaankuwar's chest tightens. The thought coils in him too. Could I be a danger to her? He knows the truth: sometimes… even he fears what he is.
The same question rests between them, heavy and unspoken, binding their thoughts in the same shadow.