Divya pressed herself against the damp stone walls of the secret passage, the child cradled tightly in her arms. Her breath came in shallow, quick gasps as she navigated the twists and turns, the sound of her footsteps muffled by the ancient roots curling around the walls. Outside, a darkness unlike any she had felt before descended upon Reevavansh.
The barrier—once an impenetrable wall of energy, the last defense of the Reevavanshi—shuddered violently. Cracks of glowing red spider-webbed across its surface as Mohana's laughter pierced the night.
"They're trying to hide from me," the centuries-old witch's voice echoed, carried by the wind, dripping with cruel amusement. "Foolish Reevavanshi. Do you truly think your walls can hold back the inevitable?"
Avinash stood at the heart of the clan grounds, bow in hand, crossbow slung over his shoulder. Around him, every Reevavanshi was armed, standing in tense formation, eyes darting toward the growing cracks in the barrier.
"Stay back, Mohana," Avinash's voice boomed, low and commanding. "You have no place here. This is sacred ground. Turn back, or you will face consequences you cannot survive."
Mohana emerged from the shadows, her long black braid whipping around her like a living weapon. Her eyes glowed red, pupils narrow, reflecting centuries of darkness and hate. The daayans behind her moved like a single, flowing shadow, their reversed feet and yellow eyes glinting in the dim light, nails long, twisting, claw-like.
She laughed, a sound that made the hair on every Reevavanshi's neck rise. "Consequences?" she said, her tone mocking. "Do you even know what day it is, Avinash? Today… today is a lunar eclipse. My powers are multiplied tenfold. Every spell, every strength, every dark corner of my soul… amplified."
She lifted her hand, letting a shard of dark energy streak across the ground. The barrier quivered violently, sparks hissing where her magic touched it. The ground beneath her daayans cracked, smoke curling from the fissures.
"You won't stand a chance," Mohana taunted further, her red eyes glinting. "Do not waste your strength, Avinash. Hand over the child. She is already mine by fate."
Avinash tightened his grip on his weapon, veins taut with anger and fear. "Never," he growled. "She is out of your reach, Mohana. You will never touch her. She is under my protection. The Rivanshi will not fall while I draw breath."
Mohana tilted her head, her smirk widening as the shadows of her horde slithered forward like a tide of darkness. "Bold words," she said softly, almost mockingly. "But do you not see, Avinash? No mortal strength, no Reevavanshi weapon, can withstand the eclipse. The light of that child—your precious Rivanshi—cannot shield her forever."
From the secret passage, Divya's hand clenched around the baby's shawl, her small fingers brushing the glowing OM mark. The mark shimmered faintly, as if sensing the impending confrontation, a tiny pulse of warmth against the chill that had seized her heart.
Avinash's voice rang out again, steady, commanding. "Then let your forces come. We will stand. We will fight. And Rivanshi will remain ours—safe, untouchable—no matter how many daayans you bring."
Mohana's laugh echoed across the clearing, mingling with the rising wind and distant thunder of the eclipse. "So be it," she hissed. "Tonight… the world will remember why the daayans reign in darkness."
The first daayans moved forward, their footsteps silent yet menacing, shadows stretching unnaturally across the ground. The battle lines were drawn. The air vibrated with tension, magic, and dread—the beginning of a confrontation that could decide the fate of light and darkness itself.
The night air trembled with the pulse of magic and fury. The lunar eclipse cast a crimson glow over the clearing, painting every tree, every stone, every Reevavanshi with a blood-red light.
War erupted.
Avinash's bow hummed as he fired arrow after arrow at Mohana. Each one streaked like a comet, shining briefly in the dim light—but as they neared her, the arrows dissolved into smoke, vanishing as if devoured by her aura. Her smirk widened, sharp and cruel.
"You waste your strength, Avinash," Mohana purred, her voice smooth as silk and jagged as broken glass. "Did you really think your mortal weapons could harm me under the eclipse?"
She stepped forward, her braid lashing through the air like a living whip. Avinash barely dodged; the wind of the strike knocked him off his feet. Dirt and leaves whipped around him as he rolled to the side, grimacing, only to rise again, bow in hand, determination burning in his eyes.
"Tell me where she is!" Mohana hissed, her voice a storm of centuries-old wrath as she floated above the ground, her red eyes blazing, aura pulsing. "Where is my son's rival? Where is the child?!"
Avinash's teeth clenched. He refused to bow to fear, refusing to reveal the secret. "You'll get nothing from me, Mohana. I will protect her with my life."
Her smirk turned into a cold, lethal grin. Her braid shot forward like a viper, whipping him across the chest. Pain exploded through him, sending him sprawling, yet he dragged himself up again, refusing to yield.