Prologue
Crouched low on the ground, my eyes remained fixed on the stag. The deer fed on the grass, its ears flicking—alert, yet unaware of the predator lurking beyond the tree line. I stilled, becoming one with the forest. My hands drew the bowstring back in slow motion, muscles coiling with quiet strength.
The stag lifted its head, sensing something—but it was too late. The bowstring hummed as I released it, the arrow slicing through the air in a deadly arc. It struck true, sinking deep into the stag’s flank. The animal startled, its legs kicking up moss as it bolted, but the wound was fatal. It stumbled, its strength draining with each stride, until finally, it collapsed onto the soft earth.
“महाराज की जय हो! अद्भुत निशाना है आपका!” the commander exclaimed in joy.
(“Long live the king! A fine shot, Your Majesty!“)
I knelt before the lifeless creature, placing a hand on its still-warm body. “एक निर्दोष की हत्या में कोई आनंद नहीं है—केवल कृतज्ञता और सम्मान। भगवान इसकी आत्मा को शांति प्रदान करें।”
(“There is no joy in killing the innocent—only gratitude and respect. May God guide its spirit to peace.“)
Virath nodded in agreement. “क्या मैं इसे ले जाने की तैयारी करूँ?”
(“Shall I prepare it for transport?“)
I nodded when a droplet of water fell on my forehead, disrupting my focus. I looked up at the vast sky beyond the treetops—earlier clear and vivid, now covered with dull black clouds, signaling the coming rain.
Then came another drop, and another, until the heavens cracked open, pouring a relentless curtain of rain upon the forest. The scent of damp earth and sandalwood filled the air, and mist began to rise from the ground.
Virath climbed onto his horse. “महाराज, हमें तूफ़ान तेज़ होने से पहले शरण लेनी चाहिए।”
(“Your Majesty, we must find shelter before the storm worsens.“)
I wiped my brow, my gaze flickering toward the dense trees ahead.
“तुम आगे जाओ, विरथ। हमें पहले अपनी प्यास बुझानी है।”
(“You go ahead, Virath. I need to quench my thirst first.“)
The commander hesitated. “परंतु, महाराज, मैं आपको अकेला कैसे छोड़कर जा सकता हूँ?”
(“But, Your Majesty, how can I leave you alone?“)
I smirked. “राजा न वर्षा से भयभीत होता है, न ही जंगल से।”
(“A king does not fear the rain, nor the forest.“)
The commander bowed slightly. “जो आज्ञा, महाराज। मैं आश्रय खोजकर लौटूंगा।”
(“Very well, Your Majesty. I shall return once I find shelter.“)
With that, he turned his horse and disappeared into the trees.
Once Virath left, I mounted my stallion, urging it forward as I searched for a source of water. After roaming for a while, I heard the distant murmur of rushing water. I advanced through the rain-drenched foliage, following the sound until I witnessed a breathtaking sight.
A waterfall cascaded down a rocky cliff, its waters glistening silver under the stormy sky. Mist curled around the base, drifting like a veil over the lake.
I dismounted, stepping forward, mesmerized by nature’s raw beauty. Bending down, I scooped water into my hands, bringing it to my lips—
Then I sawher.
A woman, standing at the water’s edge.
She was half-hidden by the mist, her figure blurred, almost ethereal. Long, dark hair clung to her damp skin, the ends curling. Strands stuck to her cheek, framing her delicate face. Her honey-toned skin glistened with droplets of rain. A simple, faded blue sari hugged her form, revealing more than it concealed, its hem darkened by the wet earth. She moved quickly, efficiently, filling a clay vessel with water.
My pulse thundered. My heart pounded fiercely, each beat louder than before, echoing in my chest. The rain lashed against my skin, cold and relentless—yet I felt nothing but heat. An unbearable, suffocating heat that coiled through my veins like wildfire.
I couldn’t move.
It felt as though I had been cast under a spell.
Her spell.
My eyes refused to look away, afraid that if I blinked, she would vanish like a wisp of mist. And yet, as she stood there, lifting the clay vessel with effortless grace, she felt more like a secret the world had never meant for me to see.
Perhaps it was the way she stood, unaware of my gaze. Or the quiet elegance with which she lifted the heavy pot to her hip, adjusting its weight as though she had done it a thousand times.
A sudden clap of thunder roared overhead. The mist thickened, swirling around her like a jealous guardian.
Then she turned.
For a fleeting moment, our eyes met.
My breath caught in my throat.
Dark—deep like the monsoon sky, endless like the abyss—they seemed to see past the rain, past the mist—past me.
Who was she?
But just as quickly as the moment came, it slipped away.
The spell broke.
She looked away without hesitation, without a second glance, as if I were nothing but dust in the wind. The mist shifted around her, swallowing her silhouette as she disappeared into the forest, leaving behind only ripples in the water and the lingering echo of her anklets.
I didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe.
Afraid that if I did, she would dissolve like a dream.
My body screamed to move, to follow, to call out—but I stood frozen, helpless.
For the first time in my life, I felt powerless.
The waterfall thundered, the rain fell harder, but I heard none of it.
I felt only the lingering pull of her presence, the ghost of her gaze imprinted on my soul, and the unbearable weight of a question that would never leave me.
Who was she?
And why did it feel as if I had lost something I had never even held?
Had I imagined her?
Or had I just glimpsed something not meant for mortal eyes?
The rain continued to fall, but I no longer felt it.
My sanity had been stolen by a woman who vanished with the mist—leaving only questions, desire, and the whisper of something beyond my grasp.
And my thirst was forgotten long gone.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
Coming soon🪶
