The serene moonlight was devoured by the hellish glow of fire. The princes' sprint from the rooftop was a blur of adrenaline and dread.
"Where is the fire? Speak!" Aaditya's command was a whip-crack, his voice raw with a son's fear as he grabbed a fleeing guard.
"The eastern wing, Yuvaraj! The Queen's private chambers!" the man gasped, his face smudged with soot.
Aaditya's blood turned to ice. "Mata!"
They raced through the chaotic corridors, the air growing thick with the acrid taste of smoke. The scene at the eastern wing was one of controlled pandemonium. Servants formed a frantic bucket brigade, but their efforts seemed pitiful against the roaring inferno that had taken hold of the ornate wooden structure. Maharaja Viraj stood like a statue of anguish, his face ashen as he watched the flames consume his wife's sanctuary.
"The Queen... she is still inside! She was resting!" a maid wept, her voice shrill with terror. "The main beam collapsed, blocking the door!"
That was all Aaditya needed to hear. A primal, protective fury ignited within him, eclipsing all reason. "MATA!" he roared, and before any rational thought could stop him, he charged toward the blazing doorway.
"AADITYA, NO!" Devansh's hand shot out, grabbing his friend's arm with desperate strength. "It's a death trap! Let the guards—"
But Aaditya wrenched himself free, his fiery eyes reflecting the inferno. "That is my mother in there!" And with those words, he vanished into the wall of flame and smoke.
Devansh's heart plummeted. He watched, helpless, as a shower of burning embers and a portion of the carved lintel crashed down, sealing the entrance behind the Yuvaraj. A collective cry of horror went up from the crowd.
No. Not him. I won't lose him.
His mind, frozen with fear a moment before, snapped into a state of crystalline focus. His gaze swept the scene. Everyone was fixated on the fire—the Maharaja in his despair, the soldiers in their futile efforts, the servants in their panic. No one was watching him.
He melted into a deep, shadowed alcove off the main courtyard, his back to the chaos. His fingers, steady despite the tremor in his soul, found their home on the strings of Vani.
Tan...
The note was soft, almost lost in the cacophony, but it carried an undeniable weight. It was a call.
Ta... Na...
He closed his eyes, shutting out the world. In his mind, he was not in a burning palace; he was in the heart of a gathering storm. He wove the notes together, not into a raga of healing, but one of summoning—the Raga Megh Malhar, the ancient melody to call the clouds.
Tan-ta-na-ri-na...
The magic flowed from his soul, through his fingertips, and into the veena. The air around him began to hum, charged with a power that had nothing to do with heat. High above, unnoticed at first, dark clouds began to knit themselves together against the clear night sky, swirling as if drawn by an invisible vortex.
A low rumble of thunder echoed, a deep bass note to Devansh's soaring melody.
People began to look up, confusion cutting through their panic. "Thunder? But the sky was clear!"
Then it came. Not a gentle drizzle, but a torrential, monsoonal downpour, as if the heavens had torn open directly above the eastern wing. The rain fell in thick, drenching sheets, sizzling as it met the raging fire. Steam billowed in massive clouds, but the flames, so defiant moments before, began to hiss and sputter, their fury quenched by the divine deluge.
Inside the smoldering ruins, the sudden rain created a path. Aaditya, shielding his mother with his own body, seized the chance. He burst through the weakened embers and smoke, carrying the Queen to safety, both coughing but unharmed.
"Mata! Aaditya!" The Maharaja rushed forward, pulling them into a crushing embrace, his relief palpable.
A wave of joyous cries and exhausted cheers rose from the crowd. But Aaditya's eyes, after ensuring his mother was safe, scanned the courtyard. They found Devansh, who was just slipping Vani back into its case, his clothes damp, his expression carefully neutral.
"Devansh," Aaditya breathed, approaching him. "You are unhurt?"
Devansh offered a small, strained smile. "I am. You... you were incredibly brave."
"But this rain..." Aaditya's gaze was intense, searching. He looked up at the sky, where the clouds were already beginning to disperse as quickly as they had gathered, revealing the confused moon. "It was too sudden. Too... convenient. It was as if the gods themselves intervened."
Devansh simply bowed his head, offering no explanation, his silence more telling than any lie.
It was then that the Queen, still trembling but clear-eyed, pointed a slender finger toward the far end of the garden, her voice a whisper. "Look. There."
All eyes followed her gesture. For just a moment, silhouetted against the moon-washed palace wall, was a figure. A man, draped in a shawl of unnatural blackness that seemed to absorb the light, his face hidden behind a smooth, obsidian mask. He stood perfectly still, watching them.
"The shadow!" Aaditya yelled. "Seize him!"
Guards surged forward, but the figure didn't run. He simply took one step back into the deeper shadows of a banyan tree and melted away, vanishing as if he were made of the same darkness.
Maharaja Viraj's face hardened, his paternal relief transforming into a king's cold rage. "This was no accident. This was a deliberate, targeted attack on my family."
As the relieved crowd began to move inside, the Queen's gaze lingered on Devansh. Her eyes, wise and perceptive, dropped to the veena case he held so protectively. They held no accusation, only a deep, dawning understanding. Then, she turned and allowed herself to be led away.
Devansh felt a chill that had nothing to do with the rain. She knows.
Aaditya placed a hand on his shoulder. "Come, friend. Let us get you dry."
But as Devansh turned to follow, he glanced back one last time at the spot where the shadow had stood. And in the quiet of his soul, he felt it—a faint, resonant vibration from Vani, a silent echo of the dark power that had been watching, a confirmation that the battle was far from over.
---
Chapter End Note:
The fire is out, but the conspiracy burns brighter. Aaditya's bravery is unmatched, but Devansh's secret is slipping. The Queen may be an unexpected ally—or a witness who holds his fate in her hands. The masked man is no longer a phantom in the forest; he has invaded the heart of the palace, his audacity growing. How long can Devansh hide the divine magic that flows from his soul through Vani? And when Aaditya finally pieces it all together, what will it mean for their fledgling friendship? The shadows are closing in.