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Chapter 11 - Chapter 11 – The Curse of the Serpent

Chapter 11 – The Curse of the Serpent

The air above the Yamuna had grown still.

The night no longer sang with wind or crickets — only the echo of what had just happened.

Yash stood silently, his trident lowered, his mind clouded with questions that had no answers.

Aarav was gone again.

The black smoke had swallowed him whole, leaving behind only ripples in the water — and a faint hiss that lingered like a whisper.

Dr. Nandini's words echoed in his head:

"The serpent bloodline is not evil, Yash. It's misunderstood. Long ago, they were the guardians of Dharma — until they were cursed."

He clenched his fists.

"Cursed… by whom?"

A faint light shimmered from his Rudraksha.

And then — the voice returned.

Soft, ancient, but filled with grief.

"By those they once served."

Yash's breath quickened.

"Who are you?"

"I am Vasuki… King of the Serpents. The one your blood remembers."

The world blurred around him — and suddenly, Yash found himself standing not in the forest, but on the banks of another river… older, brighter, golden in light.

He looked down — his body was transparent, his soul pulled into memory.

Before him stood two armies — the Devas and the Nagas — locked in a war of betrayal.

The sky burned red.

The river boiled with divine fire.

At the center of it all stood a radiant man — glowing with blue skin, eyes filled with sorrow — Lord Shiva himself.

Vasuki, the mighty serpent king, bowed before him, coiling his enormous body.

"Mahadev, we have guarded the Amrit for ages. Why have your Devas betrayed us?"

Shiva's voice was calm but heavy with pain.

> "It was not my will, Vasuki. Pride and fear blinded them. The curse they cast cannot be undone easily."

"Then our children shall bear it forever?" Vasuki thundered.

"To be hated by those we protected?"

Shiva closed his eyes. "Until the balance returns… yes."

The serpent king hissed, tears of venom falling to the earth.

"Then may this curse also bind them — until a child of both light and shadow restores the truth."

The scene shattered like glass — and Yash fell to his knees back in the present.

His body shook as the truth burned within him.

"I carry the blood of the cursed…" he whispered.

The Rudraksha glowed fiercely, almost burning his skin.

Images flashed before his eyes —

Ancient temples, rituals, the sealing of the Raksha Mandala, and the faces of those who once sealed Vasuki's children underground.

He understood now.

This was not just his destiny.

It was his inheritance.

The seal of Dharma was not made to imprison evil — it was made to hide a truth too powerful for men.

Lightning tore across the sky.

The Yamuna churned again.

From beneath the water, serpents of light rose — their eyes glowing like stars.

And a voice echoed from deep below the riverbed:

"The time has come, child of Aarambh… the Mandala stirs again."

Yash looked toward the horizon, where Delhi's faint lights flickered like dying embers.

He knew what it meant — the Raksha Mandala was returning.

But this time, the battle would not be about right or wrong.

It would be about truth and deception.

About forgiveness and revenge.

And about a boy who carried the burden of both god and serpent within his soul.

Yash tightened his grip on the trident, and whispered to the wind —

"Then let the curse end with me."

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