The black shaows illusion
A profound, hollow silence descended upon the battlefield. The great cacophony of clashing elements, screams, and war cries had faded, leaving behind a ringing quiet, heavy as a shroud. The air, once thick with smoke, magic, and dust, began to clear, revealing a landscape of scars.
In the center of this devastation, the Dark Shade was dying. Its vast, smoke-like form, which had once blotted out the sky, was now collapsing in on itself. It wasn't a violent dissolution, but a slow, sickening unraveling. Tendrils of inky darkness withered and fell away like ash from a dying coal. Yet, in its final disintegration, there was a terrible, focused vitality—the last, desperate concentration of a primordial malice refusing to fade quietly.
Its body was no longer a shape, but a pulsating, oily black stain hovering just above the scorched earth. Within its depths, ephemeral, shrieking faces and grasping hands of shadow would bubble to the surface for a fleeting second before being sucked back into the collapsing void. From this diminishing core, its voice emerged—no longer a booming chorus, but a guttural, scraping whisper that seemed to originate in the minds of everyone present rather than the air.
"Agnivrat… you… were always the chosen one… the heir… to my illusion…"
As the last sibilant syllable hung in the air, the central stain of the Shade convulsed. From its heart, a thin, needle-like ray of absolute blackness lanced out. This was no physical attack. It carried no heat, no cold, no force. It was pure, distilled maya—a psychic venom, a seed of corrosive doubt.
The ray moved with impossible speed, bypassing all physical defenses, ignoring the lingering shields of fire and water. It struck Agnivrat directly in the center of his forehead.
The Corruption of Agnivrat:
Agnivrat's body did not stagger from impact;it simply stiffened. A faint, dark spark flickered where the ray hit, then vanished into his skin. His eyes, wide open, saw nothing of the battlefield before him. They glazed over, reflecting a sudden, internal nightmare.
He saw:
· Himself on the Sun-Throne of Pawangadh, but the hall was empty save for Neer, who was not standing as a friend, but kneeling in heavy, glistening chains of dark water, his head bowed in defeat.
· Dharaya pointing an accusatory finger, her earth-brown eyes hard with betrayal, whispering words he couldn't hear but whose meaning—traitor, usurper, destroyer—echoed in his bones.
· A panoramic view of all his friends—Vayansh, Akash, the others—walking away from him, their backs turned. Protruding from between each of their shoulder blades was not an enemy's spear, but the familiar, flaming arrow of his own agni-baan.
The visions lasted less than a heartbeat, a poison-tipped slideshow injected directly into his soul. They vanished as quickly as they came, leaving no evidence, no wound. Only a deep, icy fissure in his certainty, and a single, hissing question that coiled around his heart: "Could you? If you wanted to... wouldn't you?"
Agnivrat's eyes blinked, refocusing on the real world. The fierce, golden light that usually burned within them was dimmed, clouded by a strange, swirling haze—like smoke trapped behind glass. He didn't cry out. He brought a hand slowly to his temple, fingers pressing hard as if to contain a sudden, pressureless ache. A deep, shuddering breath escaped him, sounding more like confusion than pain.
The Reactions Around Him:
· Neer was at his side in an instant. He had seen the black ray strike. His hand clamped onto Agnivrat's shoulder, not in comfort, but in a firm, grounding grip. "Agni! Look at me! What did it do?" His voice was sharp, his water-blue eyes scanning his friend's face for a wound that wasn't there.
· Dharaya, still cradling Akash's head in her lap, tore her gaze from her fallen brother's face. Her own grief was momentarily eclipsed by a spike of alarm as she saw the lost, foggy look in Agnivrat's eyes.
· Vayansh, leaning heavily on his broken spear, limped toward them. His wind-torn cloak was stained with dark ichor, but his concern was for the living. "His spirit... the Shade struck at his spirit."
· Even Pranav, kneeling in a daze beside Akash's body, looked up. His tears had stopped, leaving tracks of clean skin through the grime on his face. Seeing the Prince of Flames—the unshakeable pillar—standing so visibly shaken, sent a new kind of chill through him.
Agnivrat waved a dismissive hand, the motion slightly unsteady. "It's... nothing. A moment... of dizziness." His voice, usually so firm, wavered at the edges, betraying the lie.
The Final Dissolution of the Dark Shade:
While their attention was diverted,the last vestige of the Dark Shade completed its unraveling. The pulsating black stain lost all cohesion. It dissipated into a cloud of fine, grey-black ash that hung in the air for a moment, a ghost of its former self, before settling silently onto the charred ground. The spot where it had made its last stand was now a perfect circle of earth that was not just burnt, but vitrified—a slick, glassy black pane where nothing would ever grow again. The last echo of its whisper was swallowed by the vast, mournful silence of the field.
The Scene of Akash's Sacrifice:
In Dharaya's arms,Akash's body was utterly still. The agonized tension had left his features, replaced by a serene, empty calm. The glorious golden armor he wore was marred by a single, grotesque flaw: where the Shade's black spear had pierced his chest, the metal was not just broken, but corroded. A spiderweb of dark, vein-like cracks radiated from the wound, slowly spreading, as if the darkness itself was still feasting on the divine energy within. His right hand, however, remained tightly clenched around the hilt of his sun-metal sword, his grip unyielding even in death.
Pranav finally moved. He didn't weep again. With a solemn, deliberate motion, he reached out and pried the sword from his friend's lifeless fingers. It was a difficult task; the death grip was strong. When the hilt finally came free, Pranav held it before him, the blade catching the eerie, red-tinged light. He didn't swear an oath aloud. The act itself was the vow—a silent promise to carry the light his friend had died protecting.
The Panorama of the Battlefield:
The silence was now complete,broken only by the moans of the wounded and the soft calls of soldiers searching for comrades. The field was a tableau of brutal victory. Shattered elemental constructs—earthen golems reduced to rubble, whirlwinds stilled into mere breezes, patches of ground glittering with frost or scorched to glass—littered the ground. The banners of both sides, the golden sun of Pawangadh and the abstract, hateful sigils of the Shade, lay trampled and torn in the mud. The air still carried the metallic tang of blood and the acrid smell of spent magic.
In the distance, the soldiers of Pawangadh were not celebrating. They moved slowly, numbly, through the carnage. They turned over bodies, staunched wounds, and carried the fallen to gathering points with tender, weary care. The sky above remained a oppressive tapestry of deep crimson and bruised purple, as if the heavens themselves were wounded and refusing to heal, forcing the world to gaze upon the cost of its survival.
Neer, supporting a visibly unsteady Agnivrat, looked from the glassy black scar on the earth to the tragic scene with Dharaya and Akash. Vayansh stood slightly behind them, his breath still coming in ragged pulls, his eyes reflecting the devastation. Pranav remained kneeling, the weight of the sun-sword in his hands a new and terrible burden.
This did not feel like victory. It felt like a void where victory should have been—a pyrrhic triumph whose bitter taste of ash and loss overshadowed any relief. The war-horns that now sounded from Pawangadh's walls did not blast notes of triumph, but long, low, mournful calls—a dirge for a fallen warrior, a lost friend, and perhaps, for a piece of their own innocence.
For in Agnivrat's clouded eyes, a poison seed now slept. The external war was over. But a new, more insidious struggle had just been planted, waiting for the shadows to grow long again.