The moon bathed Mathura in silvery light, casting gentle shadows that danced across the cobblestone streets. The air was thick with the sweet scent of jasmine, its fragrance wafting softly through the open windows of the homes that lined the quiet lanes.

In the palace, young prince Satyashree lay nestled in his bed, a vision of innocence at just six years old. His dark curls framed a cherubic face, and his small chest rose and fell rhythmically with each breath. On his either side, his parents, Satyak and Satyapriya, slumbered peacefully.

Above them, hidden in the shadows of the ceiling, Chhayavritti lurked. His figure, cloaked in inky shadows, blended seamlessly with the night, allowing him to observe undetected. With piercing eyes glimmering like twin stars, he studied the prince, who emitted an aura of divinity, blissfully unaware of the malign intentions that loomed in the darkness.

The flickering candlelight cast elongated shadows, dancing across the walls as if warning Satyashree of the lurking danger. Yet, the child remained undisturbed, his cherubic face illuminated by the moon, embodying purity and tranquility.

Suddenly, without warning, Satyashree’s eyes snapped open, illuminating the room with an otherworldly glow. The fierce intensity of his gaze sent a jolt through Chhayavritti, causing his breath to get caught in his throat. The asura flinched, instinctively retreating further into the shadows, but he remained silent.

Satyashree sat upright, his tiny frame casting a long silhouette against the moonlit wall. Without a word, he pushed himself to the edge of the bed and slipped quietly onto the cool floor, leaving the sanctuary of his parents. Chhayavritti furrowed his brow, curiosity mingling with unease, as he watched the prince walking out of the room.

Could he be seeking Krishneshwari ? Chhayavritti slid silently out of the chamber, his shadowy form blending into the dim corridor. The heavy silence enveloped him, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric as he searched for any sign of Satyashree. The corridor stretched before him, empty and still, the faint light from distant oil lamps casting flickering shadows.

He frowned, frustration mounting. Where could the little prince have gone? Just as doubt began to creep into his mind, a sudden tug at his hair yanked him backward. Panic surged through him; he twisted around, eyes wide, yet the corridor remained eerily empty. No footsteps, no whispers—only silence.

Before he could react, he was flung to the floor, the cold stone biting into his skin. He scrambled to look up, heart racing, but found himself utterly alone. Fear clawed at his insides as an unseen force began to drag him along the corridor. As he fought against the unseen grip, shadows elongated and twisted, mocking his plight. Each desperate pull sent him deeper into the unknown, the weight of his own insignificance pressing upon him.

The cool tiles met his cheek, and he gasped in confusion as an unseen force dragged him along the ground, the air heavy with fear. He struggled, but his limbs felt heavy, as if bound by an invisible weight. The garden loomed ahead, illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon. Abruptly, the pull ceased, his hair released.

The sound of a tongue clicking drew his attention. There, leaning casually against a tree, was Satyashree. The prince's orange irises gleamed with an unsettling light, and his small hand radiated the same glow that had ensnared Chhayavritti moments before.

"Yug badal gaye, kintu tum Asur waise ke waise hi ho." Satyashree said, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Wahi ahankar, wahi murkhta, wahi bhram."

Chhayavritti’s heart raced, an instinctive dread flooding his senses. With a slow, deliberate stride, Satyashree approached Chhayavritti, who trembled in fear, rooted to the spot. The asur’s heart raced as he instinctively tried to retreat, his instincts screaming to flee from the predatory gaze of the prince. But Satyashree was quicker, a flash of divine energy coursing through him as he reached out, gripping Chhayavritti’s legs with an effortless power.

"Itni shigreta bhi kya hai ?" The prince murmured, pulling the asur back with a single motion.

Chhayavritti hit the ground with a heavy thud, the impact sending a shudder through the earth beneath him. Dazed, he tried to rise, but Satyashree was upon him, his foot pressing firmly against Chhayavritti’s abdomen, pinning him to the cool earth.

"Tum jiski guptchari kar rahe the, woh meri hridaye hai. Aur bina meri anumati ke na Surya use dekhta hai, na vayu uska sparsh karta hai, aur na Indra uss par varsha barsaate hai." The incarnation of Shreeshaktiswar leaned forward, his expression inscrutable. With a delicate almost predatory grace, Satyashree caressed Chhayavritti's chest, as if a tiger was examining a fragile prey. "Aur tum uddand paapi, uss par drishti rakh rahe the ? Akshamya."

In an instant, Satyashree’s fingers transformed into a vice, plunging deep into the asur’s chest. Chhayavritti's eyes widened in horror as he felt his ribs crack under the pressure. A searing pain erupted as Satyashree yanked his heart out. Chhayavritti screamed in agony, his body convulsing against the overwhelming pain. The world around him seemed to fade, leaving only the sharp, intense pain and the chilling gaze of the little prince.

The heart throbbed, still alive and pulsating in his grip, a desperate reminder of the asur’s existence, of his fears, and the folly of his mission. Satyashree held it aloft, the moonlight glistening on the crimson organ, illuminating the innocence of his youthful face, juxtaposed with the act of retribution against the darkness that sought to extinguish the light.

Chhayavritti's screams faded into gasps as his consciousness dimmed, the last remnants of his life slipping away. With a final, desperate gasp, Chhayavritti’s eyes glazed over, his life extinguished.

The silence of the Mathura night had shattered with Chhayavritti's terrifying screams, that echoed like a death knell through the corridors. Within moments, the sound drew the attention of the elders and Yadavas.

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A/N

Why is he the God of Peace and yet so violent ?
Kyuki in order to maintain peace, you must be capable of great violence. Otherwise you're not peaceful, you are harmless.

And if Satyashree is Vallabheshwar, why he too is so violent ? BECAUSE IF YOU ARE A LOVER YOU GOTTA BE FIGHTER 🔥
The most violent men in our itihaas have been those who were fighting for the honour of their beloveds and wives.