The Desperate Plan
The northern hunting lodge was not a prison, but it felt like one. A sturdy, timber-and-stone structure nestled in a secluded valley a half-day's ride from the palace, it was a place of retreat, of quiet contemplation. Now, it was a cage for a prince and his demon.
Inside the main hall, before a crackling fire that did nothing to dispel the chill in the air, the secret alliance gathered for what they knew was their final council. The stakes were no longer the recovery of a man, but the prevention of a catastrophe. The Maharaja's exile order, while born of heartbreak, had given them a clean, contained arena.
"We have one chance," Mrinal began, her voice low and steady, though her hands were clenched into fists on the wooden table. "The element of surprise is gone. It knows we're coming for it. We have to be faster, smarter, and utterly ruthless."
Alok unrolled a rough sketch of the lodge's layout. "He's taken the master's chamber on the upper floor. One window, one door. Vani is never more than an arm's length away, even when he sleeps." He placed his talisman-wrapped dagger on the map. "My role is containment. The texts say the Rakshas is vulnerable to pure energy. I will use this to create a barrier at the door and window once we're inside. It may not hold it for long, but it will slow it down, contain the backlash."
Virendra pointed to the sketch. "The moment you move, he will react with everything he has. My role is distraction and physical restraint. I will be the primary target. I will draw his aggression, give you the opening you need." He looked at Aaditya and Mrinal. "You'll have seconds. Maybe less."
Aaditya's gaze was fixed on the drawing of the bedchamber, his face pale but determined. "My role is the anchor. The emotional tether. While you're fighting the shadow, I'll be fighting for the man trapped inside it. I have to get through to him, keep him focused on me, on us, on anything other than Vani." He looked up, his crimson eyes burning. "The moment he's separated from it, the real battle begins. He'll be vulnerable, terrified, and the Rakshas will be desperate to re-establish the connection."
Mrinal nodded grimly. "And my role is the separation. The moment Virendra has his attention, and Alok has the room sealed, I take Vani." She met each of their eyes. "We've seen what it can do. It may not let go without a fight. It may... retaliate."
The unspoken risk hung in the air. This was not a simple grab. They were planning to perform spiritual surgery on a conscious, hostile entity. The potential for disaster was endless.
"What if it kills him?" Virendra asked the question they had all been avoiding, his voice gravelly. "If we sever the connection too violently... what if it takes his soul with it?"
"The text was clear," Alok said, his hand resting on the ancient book. "The Rakshas is a parasite. It feeds on the host. It doesn't want to kill him; it wants to consume him. Its primary goal will be to protect the anchor, not destroy the vessel. But..." he hesitated, "...in its desperation, it could cause irreparable damage. It could shatter his mind trying to keep its hold."
Aaditya pushed back from the table, walking to the fire. He stared into the flames, seeing another fire—the one in the Suryapuri gardens where Devansh had first played for him. "We have no choice," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "To do nothing is to let him be consumed. To watch him become the very thing he was born to fight. I would rather risk killing him trying to save him than live in a world where he is that... thing."
His words, stark and brutal, sealed their resolve. It was a soldier's calculus. A terrible choice between two awful outcomes.
"The plan is set then," Mrinal said, finality in her tone. "We move at first light. He is always most restless then, caught between sleep and waking. It's our best chance."
They spent the next hour going over every detail, every signal, every possible contingency. The creak of a floorboard, the position of the furniture, the exact phrasing Aaditya would use. It was a military operation, planned with the precision of a siege, but its target was the soul of their friend.
As they finished, a heavy silence fell over the group. This was it. The point of no return.
Virendra placed a hand on Aaditya's shoulder. "Get some rest, little brother. You'll need all your strength tomorrow."
Aaditya merely nodded, his eyes still lost in the flames.
Mrinal approached Alok. "Your talisman... it will hold?"
"It has to," Alok replied, his faith in the simple cord of sage and sandalwood now absolute. "It's the only thing that has ever made it flinch."
One by one, they retreated to their assigned rooms to wait out the long, fearful night. But sleep was a luxury none of them could afford. Each was alone with their thoughts, their fears, and the grim understanding of what the dawn would bring.
They were no longer a prince, a princess, a warrior, and a bodyguard. They were the four points of a spear, aimed at the heart of a darkness that wore their friend's face. And they all knew the same, terrifying truth:
Tomorrow, they would not be trying to save Devansh.
They would be going to war for him. And in a war, even with the best of intentions, there are always casualties.