The Next Morning
The golden sun filtered weakly through the carved windows of the Kothari mansion, touching the marble floors with hesitant warmth. The air, however, felt far from peaceful. The household stood gathered before the grand temple within the mansion—its lamps flickering restlessly, as if reflecting the unease of the hearts gathered there.
Veena knelt before the idol of Lord Shiva, her tears glistening as they fell upon the marble. Her trembling hands folded in prayer, her voice breaking through sobs.
"Why, Mahadev?" she whispered. "Why must a mother watch her son lose himself like this? First Kamini… now Mohini…"
Charvi placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, her own eyes red. "Dadi always said love can move mountains," she murmured. "Maybe… maybe it can move darkness too."
But Veena shook her head, hopeless. "You didn't see his eyes, Charvi. They were not Vihaan's. They were empty—like something else lives inside him now."
Urvashi crossed her arms, unable to hide her fear. "And what if Gauri's faith is misplaced? What if he really is gone? We could be risking all our lives holding on to a memory."
Gauri, standing silently at the front of the temple, turned slowly. The early light fell upon her face, painting her in gold. Her eyes, though rimmed with sleeplessness, carried a strange calm.
"I don't need proof to believe in him," she said quietly. "I can feel Vihaan in every breath of this house. Darkness can change a man's mind, but not his soul—and his soul is still mine."
The conviction in her voice silenced everyone for a moment. Even the flame of the diya steadied, as though listening.
Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor. Sharda entered, clutching a small, silver-capped bottle glowing faintly with blue light. Her expression was serious but hopeful.
"Perhaps," she said, stepping forward, "now we can prove what your heart already knows, Gauri."
Veena stood quickly, wiping her tears. "Sharda, what is that?"
Sharda held the bottle up carefully. The liquid inside shimmered like moonlight caught in motion. "The Pratham Vanshi gave this to me. It's called Satya Dravya—the Essence of Truth. It reveals the soul's reflection, not the body's. If Gauri uses this, she'll be able to see whether Vihaan's spirit still resides within Sarvansh."
Urvashi frowned, wary. "And if it doesn't?"
Sharda's gaze dropped. "Then we'll know that Sarvansh has completely consumed him."
For a long moment, silence filled the room. The only sound was the faint hum of the temple bells swaying in the breeze.
Then Gauri stepped forward, her chin lifted in resolve. "Then let the truth come," she said. "Because no matter what this bottle shows, I will not stop fighting for him."
Sharda nodded, placing the glowing vial in her hands. The glass was warm to the touch—almost alive.
"Use it wisely, child," she whispered. "The truth can heal… or it can break."
Gauri's eyes didn't waver. "If truth is the price of love, I'm ready to pay it."
The night had fallen silent, the mansion steeped in an unsettling calm. Every flickering lamp seemed to whisper secrets into the dark as Gauri moved quietly down the corridor, her bare feet soft against the marble. The small bottle of Satya Dravya glowed faintly in her trembling hands.
She paused before Sarvansh's room — once Vihaan's. Once filled with warmth and laughter, now thick with shadows that clung to the air like poison. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.
The room felt cold, almost lifeless. The portraits that once held Vihaan's smiling face seemed to fade beneath the dim light. Gauri carefully placed the bottle behind a decorative vase on the side table near the bed.
"Please," she whispered under her breath, "show me that my Vihaan is still in there."
But as she turned to leave, a chill ran through her.
The door slammed shut.
Sarvansh stood at the entrance — tall, imposing, his expression dark and unreadable. His eyes gleamed like molten gold as he spoke, his voice calm yet venomous.
"Looking for something, Gauri?"
Her breath caught. "I— I came to get Vihaan's photo frame. I… missed him."
Sarvansh stepped closer, every footfall deliberate. "You missed him?" he repeated with a smirk. "Or are you lying again?"
She forced herself to meet his gaze. "Believe what you want. You may have his face, but you'll never be him."
His smirk faded. "You speak too boldly for someone who forgets her place."
When he reached to grab her wrist, she caught his hand firmly, her eyes blazing with quiet defiance. "Don't forget, Sarvansh," she said, her voice low but steady, "if you are the lord of fire, I am the daughter of water — Jalpanchi. Your flames can't burn me without burning yourself."
For a second, something flickered in his eyes — Vihaan's hesitation, Vihaan's pain — but it vanished as quickly as it came. He released her hand, jaw tightening.
"Get out," he spat.
Gauri took a step back, her heart pounding. She turned and left, forcing herself not to look back.
But as the door shut behind her, Sarvansh's eyes fell upon the faint blue shimmer behind the vase. He reached for it slowly. The bottle pulsed in his hand, its glow reacting violently to his touch — as though it knew he wasn't pure.
A cruel smile curved his lips. "So, this is your test, Gauri?" he murmured. "Let's see how you handle failure."
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