Mohana's hands lifted, dark energy swirling like a vortex around her. She levitated Avinash effortlessly, the wind tearing at his clothes, his muscles straining as he dangled inches above the ground. Her red eyes bore into his very soul.
"Where. Is. She?" she demanded, each word a blade of darkness.
"I… will… not… tell you," he spat through gritted teeth, defiance in every word.
Her fury erupted. With a violent twist, Mohana's clawed hands ripped through his shoulder—bone cracking, blood spurting—and the world seemed to halt for a heartbeat. Avinash screamed, a sound filled with agony and determination, as the pain seared through him.
He stared into her eyes, hatred and resolve blazing equally. "I… will… protect… her," he gasped, even as he clutched at the bloody stump where his arm had been torn away.
Mohana's laughter echoed through the night, hollow and cruel. "Foolish mortal! No one defies me under the eclipse!"
Around them, the daayans surged forward, claws and fangs ready, shadows twisting and stretching unnaturally. The Reevavanshi fought valiantly, but the night belonged to darkness for these few, terrifying moments.
Avinash's gaze, bloodied and furious, never wavered from Mohana. Despite the pain, despite the loss, he knew he could not falter. The child—the Rivanshi—was still out there, still safe. And as long as she lived, there was hope.
Mohana hissed, her braid whipping again, and the night trembled with the promise of further destruction.
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.
Mohana's hands lifted, dark energy swirling like a vortex around her. She levitated Avinash effortlessly, the wind tearing at his clothes, his muscles straining as he dangled inches above the ground. Her red eyes bore into his very soul.
"Where. Is. She?" she demanded, each word a blade of darkness.
"I… will… not… tell you," he spat through gritted teeth, defiance in every word.
Her fury erupted. With a violent twist, Mohana's clawed hands ripped through his shoulder—bone cracking, blood spurting—and the world seemed to halt for a heartbeat. Avinash screamed, a sound filled with agony and determination, as the pain seared through him.
He stared into her eyes, hatred and resolve blazing equally. "I… will… protect… her," he gasped, even as he clutched at the bloody stump where his arm had been torn away.
Mohana's laughter echoed through the night, hollow and cruel. "Foolish mortal! No one defies me under the eclipse!"
Around them, the daayans surged forward, claws and fangs ready, shadows twisting and stretching unnaturally. The Reevavanshi fought valiantly, but the night belonged to darkness for these few, terrifying moments.
Avinash's gaze, bloodied and furious, never wavered from Mohana. Despite the pain, despite the loss, he knew he could not falter. The child—the Rivanshi—was still out there, still safe. And as long as she lived, there was hope.
Mohana hissed, her braid whipping again, and the night trembled with the promise of further destruction.
To be continued.....