The forest was quiet, almost too quiet. Shadows stretched long across the ground as the three of them walked in uneasy silence.
Yuvaan stopped abruptly and leaned casually against a thick tree, closing his eyes. "Wait here," he said, voice light but edged with amusement. "I'm tired of walking."
Kiara and Angad exchanged a glance, stifling laughter.
"Did you just hear yourself?" Kiara said softly, shaking her head. "We're humans. We've walked farther than you, and we're fine. Mighty Warlock King, and you're tired already?"
Yuvaan cracked open one eye and smirked. "How can I not be tired? We've been walking in circles… all because of her."
"Her?" Angad asked, frowning.
Yuvaan's fingers tapped the tree bark lazily. The bark shimmered and shifted, as if alive. Slowly, a form slid from within, emerging from the trunk with quiet grace. She hovered on the branch, her eyes sharp, her presence commanding.
"The one who won't let us pass," Yuvaan said, his tone casual but dangerous. His hand shot out and grabbed her by the neck—but she was faster. With a flick of her wrist, she slipped from his grasp, landing lightly on the branch.
"I am no evil," she said, voice soft yet firm. "I guard the old paths. You, Yuvaan Pratap Singh, king of dark forces, are not welcome here."
Kiara stepped forward, hands open in humility. "We mean no defiance," she said carefully. "The great eclipse is almost upon us. If the stronghold rises, all will burn. We need Jishwa. Please… let us pass."
The Yakshini studied her, eyes narrowing. "I see the Reeva blood in you," she said. "You carry light in your veins, but this path… it will test you. Beyond me, there are forces I cannot control. Some are dark, some are relentless in their justice. They will not hesitate to strike any warlock—or any who walk beside him."
Yuvaan smirked, leaning closer to Kiara. "She thinks I get scared easily," he muttered. "Come on, wifey. Or shall I burn her up?"
Kiara shot him a sharp pinch. He chuckled but fell silent, letting her calm the tension.
The Yakshini's gaze returned to them, serious now. "Move forward," she said. "And step lightly. Every shadow here has eyes. Every breeze carries a warning. Proceed… but do not rush. The path itself will make you falter."
Kiara inhaled deeply, looking at Yuvaan and then Angad. She held her hand tight on the hilt of her courage. Yuvaan's smirk softened for a brief second as he glanced at her, his eyes unreadable.
Together, they stepped forward. Each footfall was deliberate, each breath measured. The forest seemed to lean closer, the silence stretching longer. Somewhere beyond the bend, danger awaited—but so did their purpose.
And for the first time in the journey, the weight of the slow, deliberate trek pressed on all of them, a reminder that even kings and warlocks must tread carefully in the face of what is truly powerful.
The forest canopy shivered above them, shafts of pale sunlight filtering through twisted branches. The trio moved carefully, every snap of a twig making their ears prick.
After a long, tense silence, Kiara glanced at Yuvaan. "How… how did you know the Yakshini would be there?" she asked, curiosity threading through her voice.
Yuvaan stretched his arms and smirked, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "Why wouldn't I know?" he said, voice smooth, full of confidence. "I always know."
Kiara's brow furrowed. "You're… unbelievable. I haven't met anyone so self-obsessed in my entire life."
He leaned a little closer, grinning. "That's because, wifey… I'm one in a million."
Angad, walking a step behind, laughed softly. "True. Not arguing with that."
Kiara rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips. Even in the shadowed, tense forest, his confidence had a way of standing out… like a spark in the dark.
Yuvaan chuckled and added lightly, "Besides, the forest itself tells me things—if you know how to listen. The Yakshini is just one of many whispers I hear."
Kiara glanced at him, half exasperated, half amused. "You make it sound so effortless… one in a million, huh?"
"I said it first," he replied smugly, and a soft warmth seemed to pass between them in the quiet of the forest.
Angad shook his head with a grin. "You two… let's just survive the forest first, okay?"
Kiara laughed softly, letting the tension ease slightly. "Agreed. But I swear, Yuvaan, your ego might be the real obstacle ahead."
Yuvaan winked at her, and they continued walking, their footsteps cautious, the forest silent but alive around them.
Varun and Mishka had climbed higher into the dense forest, the wind whispering through the pines as the shadows of the hill stretched long beneath them.
"Finally… the top," Varun panted, brushing sweat from his forehead.
Mishka scanned the area warily. "It looks too quiet. Too… perfect."
Before either could take another step, a sudden flash of golden light encircled them. With a sharp crack, the forest floor seemed to shift, and in an instant, they were trapped inside a translucent cage shimmering with gold threads.
"What—" Varun began, but Mishka's hand went up.
Golden warriors emerged, their armor gleaming as they held long, ceremonial spears. "Intruders! State your names and purpose!" a commanding voice rang out, echoing through the trees.
Varun raised his hands slightly, remaining calm despite the tension. "We are Reevavanshi," he said firmly. "And we mean no harm."
The warriors exchanged glances, then one stepped forward. "A Reevavanshi? You dare trespass into Swarnyuddha territory?"
Mishka's eyes narrowed. "We seek an audience with your queen. Swarnaprabha."
The warriors stiffened, but Varun continued, his tone unwavering. "We verify our identities. We are not here to fight your people—only to speak with your queen. Tell her we come on urgent business."
The golden light around the cage pulsed as if reacting to his words. One warrior's eyes softened slightly. "Wait here. Swarnaprabha will decide your fate."
Varun exhaled slowly, his grip tightening on his bow. "Let's hope she is wiser than her guards," he muttered, while Mishka's fingers brushed the edge of her amulet, sensing the latent magic in the forest.
The wind stirred, carrying with it the faint scent of incense and gold—a promise that their encounter with Swarnaprabha would not be simple, and that the real challenge had only just begun.