The waterfall's roar masked the subtle rustle of leaves as Kapalika crouched on the jagged rocks, her braid whipping in the wind like a living thing. She bowed low, head nearly touching the ground, eyes closed, every inch of her posture trembling with urgency.
"Maha Daayan… my queen…" she whispered, her voice raw. "I have failed. I could not feed your son—the daavansh—with darkness. I… I am sorry."
The reflection in the waterfall rippled violently, Mohana's petrified face flickering in distorted glimpses. Her eyes blazed with fury even in stillness, lips curling into a disdainful sneer.
"Useless," Mohana's voice echoed, cold and merciless, as if cutting through stone itself. "Even now, you come groveling with excuses?"
Kapalika's hands clenched into fists, nails biting into her palms. "No, my queen! Please… give me another chance. I will not fail you again. I will find a way—any way—to bring darkness to him, to feed him the power that is his birthright!"
The reflection shimmered, as if Mohana's gaze pierced straight into her soul, judging, waiting, deciding. Kapalika's chest heaved with the force of her desperation, the roar of the waterfall merging with the storm inside her.
For a long, tense moment, silence held. Only the sound of cascading water filled the cavern.
"Very well," Mohana's voice finally hissed, low and dangerous. "One more chance… do not waste it, Kapalika. Or you will regret it."
Kapalika's body trembled with relief and determination. She bowed again, deeper this time, forehead pressed to the rock, feeling the cold sting of the stone against her skin. "I will not fail you again, my queen," she vowed, every word soaked in fear and loyalty.
The reflection settled once more into the still, cold visage of Mohana—silent, unyielding, eternal. Kapalika slowly rose, eyes blazing with renewed purpose, and disappeared into the shadows, already plotting her next move.
Meanwhile, at the Raizada Villa, the afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows, casting long golden streaks across the marble floors.
Vanraj stepped into the main hall, his eyes scanning every corner. "Vedshree… Suman… is everything ready for the test? Ruby and her family could arrive any moment," he asked, his voice calm but edged with anticipation.
Suman gestured toward the carefully arranged white flower buds lining the veranda and the corridors. "Look," she said softly, her fingers brushing one of the buds without touching it too roughly. "Tabeezi said that a true Rivanshi's presence can awaken these buds, make them bloom naturally. If Ruby is the Rivanshi, the flowers will open."
Vedshree, standing nearby, turned toward a long row of unlit diyas arranged meticulously on the steps and mantels. "And these," she added, her voice reverent, "Tabeezi also said that only the Rivanshi's presence can ignite these diyas on their own. No matchsticks, no lamps—just her presence. If Ruby truly carries the Rivanshi power, the diyas will glow."
The two women exchanged a tense glance, each silently willing fate to reveal itself. The air in the villa felt thick with anticipation, almost vibrating with the unseen energy of the pending test.
Vanraj let out a slow breath, trying to steady his nerves, but even he couldn't ignore the charged atmosphere. Every shadow seemed to shift slightly, as if the house itself were waiting, holding its breath.
Outside, the garden gate rattled—the sound of approaching wheels breaking the momentary silence.
"They're here," Suman whispered, her voice barely audible, but heavy with the weight of what was about to unfold.
Vedshree nodded, eyes fixed on the flowers and diyas. "May Lord Shiva guide this test… and may the truth reveal itself."
To be continued...