Moonlight poured through the tall windows of the Raizada mansion, casting long silver streaks across the polished floors. Vedshree's hand trembled slightly as she held the small packet of Saarpmani dust, its faint shimmer catching the light. She turned to Suman, who walked quietly beside her, eyes flicking nervously to the shadows.
"Are you sure this will work?" Suman whispered, her voice low, almost afraid to break the night's silence.
Vedshree inhaled deeply, steadying herself. "It has to. Divya said tonight, with the full moon… it will force her truth out. Every corner… every threshold."
Suman nodded, the weight of the moment settling heavily on her shoulders. "Just… be careful. If she notices us—"
"Shh," Vedshree cut her off, pressing a finger to her lips. They moved silently through the hallways, sprinkling the dust into every shadowed corner, under the rugs, along the doorways, even in the nursery. Each movement was deliberate, every grain of dust a weapon against the centuries of darkness hidden in Mohana.
---
In the nursery, Mohana stood, holding Arnav close. Her human disguise was perfect, her smile warm, her voice soft as silk. "Sleep well, my little one," she cooed, rocking the child gently. "Tonight… you'll begin your journey. My journey… with you, my son, I will become Ekaayan Daayan."
Her braid swayed behind her, brushing softly against the floor. Carefully, she stepped out of the room, cradling Arnav, making her way down the corridor toward the hall.
But as her foot touched the floor, a faint, insistent heat began crawling along her skin. A burning sensation, subtle at first, but growing sharper. Mohana paused, frowning.
"What…?" she muttered, a note of unease creeping into her voice. "Why is… this…?"
The house felt alive around her. Shadows seemed to twist and ripple at her presence. Somewhere deep in the corners, the Saarpmani dust shimmered under the full moon, and a faint, almost imperceptible hum rose in the background—an eerie vibration of sound like a distant whispering. The family would not hear it, but it filled the air with dread.
Mohana's smile wavered. Her braid twitched subtly, black nails glinting unnaturally, her fingers tightening around the baby. For a moment, her red eyes flickered beneath her human guise.
Vedshree, standing in the hall with Suman, saw it. A sudden, subtle shift in the light, the air around Mohana feeling charged and heavy.
"Where are you taking him?" Vedshree's voice was firm, calm, but cutting through the silence like a blade.
Mohana stopped mid-step, a faint hiss escaping her lips. "I… I'm just… putting him to bed…" Her voice wavered. She tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. The burning sensation surged, forcing her daayan traits to rise: her braid twitched almost violently, small cracks of dark energy flickered along her nails, her feet twisted unnaturally.
Vedshree stepped forward, slowly, deliberately, her eyes fixed on the child in Mohana's arms. "Not tonight," she said quietly, reaching out.
Mohana stiffened, instinctively pulling Arnav closer, but her strength wavered. The dust, amplified by the full moon, worked against her, forcing the truth from her disguise. Her braid swayed like a living shadow, and her red eyes flared more clearly. Tiny burn marks began appearing along her skin, visible even in the soft moonlight.
Suman's hand flew to her mouth. "Vedshree… look at her!"
Mohana hissed, her voice splitting unnaturally between human sweetness and something older, darker. "No… this cannot… I… I am…"
Vedshree did not flinch. With careful hands, she lifted Arnav from Mohana's grasp, holding him protectively. "We see you now," she said firmly. "Your mask is gone. The child is safe."
Mohana staggered, trying to hide her shifting form, her braid lashing behind her, red eyes flashing, black nails glinting. The heat from the dust burned her, forcing her daayan form further to the surface, her disguise unraveling in patches.
Sanjeev, standing nearby, stepped forward, alarmed. "What… what's happening to her? Why… why are those burn marks appearing?"
Mohana's lips moved, but no sound came. Her disguise was cracking, and for the first time, centuries of carefully cultivated control wavered.
Vedshree pressed Arnav closer to her chest, her eyes unwavering, her voice quiet but powerful: "Tonight, you cannot touch him."
The hall was silent except for the faint rustle of Mohana's braid and the soft, almost imperceptible hum of background music—the chant of the daayan, felt by the readers, shaping the air with dread:
🎵Daakini… Pishachini… Sarvashini… Bhoot pret Kalashini… Nazar ki daayan ki… Sarvashini Barbaadini… Daayan ki Sarvashini… Daakini… Hai Daakini…🎵
Mohana's hands shook, her body tense as she struggled to conceal the emerging daayan traits, but Vedshree had already claimed the child. The room seemed suspended in time, silver moonlight illuminating the first cracks in centuries of darkness.
To be continued…