The fifth orb didn't burn when it entered Yuvaan's throat.
It roared.
Magic hit him like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from his lungs and flooding every nerve until he could feel time itself bending around him. The forest blurred, then stretched, then snapped backward—
Leaves flew upward.
Wind reversed its direction.
Even sound pulled itself back into silence.
And then—
A gasp.
Cold night air.
The familiar torchlight.
Kiara.
Alive.
Standing at the mouth of the cave in her deep emerald evening gown, its silky fabric catching the moonlight. Her heels clicked softly against the broken stones, elegance in a place that had never known beauty.
Her wedding chain gleamed against her collarbone, and a faint streak of vermillion glowed through her hairline—stubbornly intact even after climbing through the woods.
Yuvaan's heart stuttered painfully.
He had just watched her die.
Now she inhaled the cool air in front of him, unaware of the death she had narrowly escaped.
Again.
Vikram lifted his lantern and gestured to them.
"This cave… it reveals truths only when it chooses. Stay alert."
Kiara crossed her arms, shivering lightly.
The night touched bare shoulders the gown didn't fully protect. The breeze teased the hem, making it flutter against her legs.
Yuvaan forced himself to breathe.
He had gone back in time—yes.
But death was still stretching its fingers toward her.
He had to stay ahead of it.
---
THE FIRST CRACK
They took one step toward the cave.
Kiara's heel clicked—
A delicate sound.
Then the ground whispered beneath it.
Yuvaan froze.
A tremor.
A breath.
A warning only he could feel.
"Wait," he said sharply.
Kiara turned, confusion wrinkling her brow.
"What happened?"
Her gown swayed as she shifted her weight, heels digging into the dirt. The lanternlight carved gold along her cheekbones.
Yuvaan didn't look at her—he was staring at the earth.
He could already hear what was about to happen.
He lifted his hand.
The ground split violently a heartbeat later—
CRRRRACK—
A jagged line tore across the earth exactly where Kiara had stood just moments ago.
Vikram stumbled back, stunned.
"How… how did you know?"
Yuvaan's voice stayed low.
"Instinct."
Kiara raised an eyebrow, brushing her hair back. The crystals on her gown caught the lantern's light like tiny stars.
"Oh? So now instincts tell the future?"
He gave her a sideways look.
"Very funny, Kiara."
But she wasn't fully teasing. She watched him too closely, too quietly—as if something in him had shifted and she sensed it.
Before the moment could stretch further, he lifted his palm.
Magic spiraled outward, swirling around the torn ground. Rocks lifted, dust rose, and the crack knitted itself closed until the earth looked untouched.
Kiara's breath hitched.
Her fingers slid unconsciously to her wedding chain.
Yuvaan caught the movement, and something warm twisted in his chest.
---
MOVING FORWARD
They walked toward the cave again, this time with caution. Kiara's heels tapped softly on the stone path, an elegant rhythm in a place built from mystery.
The glow from the lantern reflected off her gown's fabric with every step, casting shifting patterns on the cave walls as they neared the entrance.
Kiara moved closer to Yuvaan—
just a few inches.
Not touching.
Not speaking.
But close.
Like something inside her trusted him before she could even think.
Yuvaan noticed.
He always did.
---
PRATAP SINGH MANSION
Far from the cave's darkness, the mansion was thick with tension.
Bhoomi stood near the household temple, hands trembling as she lit a fresh diya.
"Something is wrong," she whispered. "My heart won't settle."
Chandrika rubbed her arms, eyes clouded with fear.
"If the curse is tightening… we don't know what they might be facing."
Vinod's shoulders sagged.
"We can't go after them. We don't belong in their world."
Susheela stepped forward, lighting more incense.
"Maybe we can't fight with magic," she said softly, "but prayers reach places nothing else can."
They gathered around the flame together, the soft chiming of bells filling the hall as whispered prayers rose like smoke—
toward the cave,
toward the darkness,
toward Kiara and Yuvaan.
Two souls destiny wanted to tear apart.
THE MYSTIC WATERFALL
The tunnel widened suddenly.
Cold mist rushed forward, brushing Kiara's cheeks and making her gown ripple softly around her legs. The cave's darkness ended in a vast chamber glowing with its own light—silver, alive, pulsing.
In the center thundered the Mystic Waterfall.
Not fed by any river.
Not born from rain.
It fell from thin air, shimmering like strands of liquid moonlight.
Every drop caught the light and changed colors—blue, violet, gold—never settling.
Kiara's heels clicked lightly as they stepped closer, the sound swallowed instantly by the rushing water. The cavern air vibrated, as if the waterfall itself was breathing.
Vikram stepped forward, bowing his head slightly.
"Guardian of truths," he called out, voice echoing across the chamber, "you hold the answers mortals cannot find. We have come seeking the way to break the Kala-Pishachi curse."
Silence.
Then the water shifted—
a ripple,
a sway,
a whisper forming inside the noise.
A voice rose from the fall.
Not male.
Not female.
Ancient.
A thousand tones woven into one.
"Sacrifice of love."
Kiara's breath caught in her throat.
Varun frowned. "What does that even mean?"
Vikram stiffened, eyes narrowing. "Whose love? Sacrificed how?"
The waterfall resumed its glow, voice threading through the chamber, slow and echoing:
"When time arrives,
Love will know
What must be done."
Yuvaan clenched his jaw so tightly the muscle ticked.
His fingers curled into fists.
"That's it?" he snapped. "We came all this way for another riddle? I have only two chances left and all you can do is—"
Kiara touched his arm instantly.
Her fingers were small, warm against his skin.
He stopped mid-sentence, breathing harshly.
"Yuvaan…" she whispered.
Her voice softened every edge inside him.
"Two chances?" she asked quietly. "What does that mean?"
His eyes darted away.
He couldn't tell her the truth—about the orbs, the rewinds, the times he had watched her die.
Not here.
Not when her gown still held traces of phantom dust from the grave she never saw.
"I meant…" he exhaled slowly, controlling the tremor in his chest, "We don't have many opportunities. The curse is tightening. We can't make mistakes anymore."
Kiara searched his face—too deeply.
Her gaze lingered on the tension in his jaw, the flicker of fear in his eyes, the way he kept positioning himself half-in-front of her as if expecting danger at every breath.
She knew something was off.
But she didn't push.
Instead, she stepped closer—her gown brushing against his leg, her vermillion glowing faintly in the silver light.
"We'll find a way," she murmured. "Together."
Varun shifted awkwardly, coughing into his fist.
Vikram pretended to re-examine his notes.
But Yuvaan…
He stared at her as though the entire universe had just whispered its final threat.
And still—still—
she had faith.
Sacrifice.
Love.
Two chances left.
He swallowed hard.
The water continued to shimmer, watching them.
Waiting.