Morning in the Solar Kingdom arrived like a blessing.
Golden light poured over marble halls.
The banners danced gently in the wind.
Servants moved with quiet discipline.
Everything was… perfect.
Too perfect.
Aditya Varma stood by the palace balcony.
Silent.
Watching the sunrise.
The warmth touched his skin.
Soft.
Familiar.
Yet something within him refused to accept it.
His fingers tightened against the railing.
"…why does this feel false?"
The words came out unconsciously.
As if spoken by someone else.
Behind him, soft footsteps approached.
"Your Highness."
Aditya did not turn.
"Speak."
The voice belonged to his royal tutor—an old scholar who had served the kingdom for decades.
"You did not attend the morning assembly."
Aditya's gaze remained fixed on the horizon.
"I was watching the sun."
A pause.
"…and?"
Aditya's voice dropped slightly.
"It feels weaker than it should be."
Silence followed.
Not confusion.
Not dismissal.
But something deeper.
The old man studied him carefully.
"You speak as though you remember a stronger one."
Aditya finally turned.
Their eyes met.
And for a brief moment—
Something passed between them.
Recognition.
Not of identity.
But of abnormality.
"I don't remember," Aditya said slowly.
"…but I feel like I should."
Later that day, during training—
It happened again.
The royal training grounds echoed with the clash of steel.
Young nobles sparred under the watchful eyes of instructors.
Aditya stood among them.
Calm.
Uninterested.
A bow was placed in his hands.
"Show us your progress, Prince," the instructor said.
Aditya stared at the weapon.
A simple bow.
Nothing remarkable.
And yet—
The moment his fingers touched it—
The world shifted.
His grip adjusted.
Naturally.
Perfectly.
Too perfectly.
His breathing slowed.
His stance aligned.
Not learned.
Not practiced.
Remembered.
"…what is this?"
he whispered under his breath.
"Loose."
The command broke the silence.
Aditya released the string.
The arrow shot forward—
But not like an arrow.
It cut through the air like a thought given form.
Effortless.
Invisible.
Absolute.
The target shattered.
No—
It didn't shatter.
It disappeared.
As if erased from existence.
Silence fell over the training grounds.
No cheers.
No applause.
Only unease.
The instructor stepped back.
Slowly.
"…again," he said.
But his voice lacked authority now.
Aditya lowered the bow.
"…I didn't aim."
The Unease Grows
That night—
The dreams returned.
A battlefield.
Broken.
Endless.
A chariot wheel sinking into the earth.
A sky without warmth.
A voice—
"You should not have died that day."
Aditya turned in the dream.
Desperate.
"…who are you?"
But as always—
He woke before the answer came.
The Name He Should Not Know
Days passed.
Then weeks.
Then months.
The kingdom celebrated him.
Praised him.
Feared him.
But Aditya grew quieter.
More distant.
More aware of something he could not explain.
Until one evening—
Without thinking—
He spoke a name.
"…Radheya."
The word left his lips like a memory breaking free.
He froze.
"…what did I just say?"
The air grew heavy.
The wind stopped.
And for the briefest moment—
He felt it again.
That presence.
Watching.
Waiting.
Far beyond the understanding of kings and kingdoms…
The wound in time pulsed once more.
And the prince—
Was beginning to remember.