Kalapishachi's lips curled into a cruel smile as she hovered above the cursed ground. "You must feel proud, child," she hissed, eyes glinting with malice. "To stand before me, knowing you ended Queen Mother Kalashree… Jishwa. You've taken from me what I cherished, and now… I will relish the chance to return the favor."
Before Kiara or Vikram could react, a flock of dark, cursed crows erupted from the shadows, their eyes burning like molten coal. The air vibrated with their screeching cries, a thousand wings beating like a storm of death.
Kiara raised her hands to ward them off, but the sheer number of crows forced her back. Talons pierced her arm and shoulder, and a sharp pain tore through her. She dropped to her knees, the weight of the attack driving her down. Her gown clung to her, stained with scratches, and the golden glow of her trident birthmark flickered under the strain.
Vikram's eyes widened in alarm. "Kiara!" he shouted, rushing forward, but she gritted her teeth, forcing herself upright. Blood glistened on her skin, but her gaze burned with unyielding defiance.
Kalapishachi laughed, a sound like shattering glass. "Even at your weakest, Jishwa, you cannot escape the wrath of darkness. Kneel if you must… but your spirit will be mine to break."
Kiara's hands clenched into fists, the Rudramani dust swirling faintly around her as she fought to regain her stance. "I… will not kneel," she whispered, voice trembling with pain but stronger than steel. "Not today. Not ever."
At the Pratap Singh mansion, Mishka circled Aranya cautiously, her braid tightly coiled around her wrist like a whip ready to strike. The air was heavy with magic, the faint hum of Yuvaan's shield lingering around the house.
Aranya lowered her stance, feigning weakness. "Is that all you've got, little Reeva Daayan?" she taunted with a smirk, her voice almost sweet, but the glint in her eyes betrayed her centuries of cunning.
Mishka relaxed slightly, advancing forward. "I won't let you harm this family—or Yuvaan," she said, voice firm but with a hint of youthful uncertainty.
In the blink of an eye, Aranya struck. Her spider-like limbs shot forward, wrapping around Mishka with lightning speed. Mishka's eyes widened in shock as a hidden blade of silken shadow sliced across her side, leaving a sting of burning pain. She staggered back, clutching her wound.
Aranya's laugh was cold and venomous. "You trusted your instincts too soon, little one. The spider weaves patience before it strikes. Remember that."
Mishka gritted her teeth, her stance hardening despite the pain. "I may be young, but I can stall you. And my cousin will finish what you can't survive."
Aranya's eyes glimmered with cruel amusement. "Then let's see if you can keep up, junior witch."
The mansion trembled slightly as the two circled, the tension between them electric, every second a test of reflexes, courage, and strategy.
At the cursed island, the air crackled with dark energy. Kalapishachi's eyes gleamed with centuries of malevolence as she lifted her hand, summoning a murder of cursed crows. Their black wings sliced through the air like knives, each crow radiating a sinister aura.
Kiara stumbled from the initial assault, blood trickling from shallow wounds, but she forced herself onto one knee. Kalapishachi's voice cut like ice:
"Get up, child of light… or kneel. Feel the despair that comes with defiance."
The crows lunged at Kiara, aiming for her knees, trying to force her to the ground. Dust, feathers, and dark energy swirled around her, a whirlwind of shadow and malice.
But Kiara's eyes blazed with determination. She shook her head, her voice unwavering despite the pain:
"I will not kneel. Not to you. Not to anyone. My husband's life, our love… I will protect it with every breath I have!"
The Trident mark on her back flared gold, pulses of energy radiating outward. The crows screeched in frustration as their attack faltered, unable to break her resolve.
Vikram's eyes were fixed on Kiara, taut with worry and fear. He remained silent, steady, his presence a pillar of support, his jaw clenched as he silently measured every threat, ready to intervene if necessary.
Kiara steadied herself, rising slowly, defiance etched into every line of her stance. The golden glow around her intensified, illuminating the dark, desolate landscape of the cursed island.
Kalapishachi's lips curled into a cold, merciless smile. "Interesting… the Jishwa refuses to bend. Let's see how long that lasts."