Remember, my maiden, why you defeated death.

****

The miasma of blood made Ishvara feel nauseous. Fear curdled the ichor in her veins. Chains of magic left a burnt impression on her butterfly skin.

"Free me, Aryam!"

He did not listen. He wasn't even the Aryam she knew. He wasn't the sweet, charming boy who wanted her, but a living reminder of her past nightmares, of the horned devil.

"Please, Aryam. I can't leave the palace."

She tried yanking her hand away from Aryam while furiously sulking at a woman. Incessant sobs ruined the glow of her face. "All because of you." She accused the woman. "You aren't my mother, Ranavato. Never."

Ishvara held onto the curtains and pillars, begged the servants to listen. But no one could come to help. Aryam's oceanic pupils were lost in a haunting darkness. He lolled back his head, grinning like a demon. It sent chills down her spine.

"Please Aryam, don't." A silvery haired woman slid down the walls, crying. With hopes of reversing the chaos, a fair young warrior fought Aryam. It pained the warrior to hit his friend, but what else could be done? Alas, he was defeated soon by the extraordinary strength of Aryam.

The princess shut her eyes and cursed the gods. "Pasha, don't stand in his way. Not for me, I would never be able to forgive myself."

She knew she was doomed. The fears of her late father, realisation of which made her cower too, materialised not in the body of the worst man she knew, but the Rajan of Aryavarta.

It was happening.

He jerked the rattling chains, hissing at the soldiers who abandoned all courage and stepped aside.

"Aryam, you aren't evil."

Turning back with a groan, he smiled– the promise of a facade. "My love." He came closer and closer. The caged princess crawled back until she hit a dead end. When he lingered near her lips, she squirmed and screamed.

The dream vanished. Ishvara sprang up, finding herself in a sweaty puddle. Her hands were cold and numb.

"It isn't possible."

It was dawn. She found him still sleeping.

He still had a smile on his face.

Everything was still fine.

But a sinister terror agonised Ishvara. The thought of caressing his cheeks seemed dreadful.

"No, I can't just assume things about the man."

But she had seen him– the same elongated eyes, the same crimson smile. There had always been something magical and otherworldly about his deep blue orbs.

"Rajan Aryam?"

****

Dilrobar was used to avoiding Devanj at all costs. The man had strictly asked her to not come in his sight unless doomsday struck. Yet, it wasn't always easy to hide herself from the wrath of this lord. Often they would cross paths in the palace since they both lived there. But today was different– Dilrobar was going to him on her own, something she had never done.

She was afraid, yes. She knew she would have to face something horrible. But she was ready.

Dilrobar found happiness in the trials and tribulations of life. There was a sweetness in the pain that pushed her further towards redemption. She didn't want to live without it. This agony had shaped her into a better person and no way was she going to give up on this darkness that consumed her. In Dilrobar's perspective, lighting a candle for herself didn't matter, though she would do it several times for the souls that rebuked her. They needed prayers more than her.

She didn't deserve to be blessed.

Dilrobar stood in front of Devanj's room, finding herself very short of breath. Hair stood at the back of her neck.

"No, you have to tell him. It's only you who can now see beyond the veil, even if little," she reminded herself. "You have been entrusted with a huge responsibility. Fulfill it."

She knocked. "Who is there?" came the reply.

Dilrobar entered and closed the door behind her, slowly lifting up her veil. Perhaps her vanquished face would give Devanj some peace.

Devanj stopped the work at his hand and gaped at the woman. He couldn't help but inspect the intricacies of her face, the imperfections that were now reality.

But pity didn't have a place in Devanj's heart. If only the Mataraj and the Rajan weren't there, he would have unleashed a far more gruesome beast than even the so-called werewolves. He didn't need to be cursed for eating a human alive. He could, if he ever got the chance, draw the blood from her neck while she fought in his embrace.

"You dare to be here?" A crystalline vase shattered in his grip. Blood trickled down his fingers, but he didn't care. The wounds were nothing when compared to the fatality of the Rajan's love.

"I didn't come here to disturb or anger you, Lord Deva–"

"Don't." He raised his hand. "Don't take my name from your sinful lips. You are the most vile and notorious woman I have ever known."

Dilrobar heaved a sigh. "You can call me names, I don't mind."

"You are being a saint, aren't you?" he hissed. "You are acting out of your own selfish needs. These boastful portrayals of kindness and humility are not sincere, I know that. You do it only because you are now helpless. If ever you get the chance again to return to what you were once, you will reveal your avatar of a venomous snake."

Dilrobar often thought about the same. Would she become what she was if things changed? That was exactly what frightened her. She didn't want things to transform to how they were in the past. She had to be caught up in maledictions and eternal anguish. That would keep her sane.

"It worries me too. I don't want things to improve for me. I am satisfied with things as they are."

"Oh, you would want them to remain as they are. After all, it gives you permanent access to the Rajan's bedroom and infinite opportunities to seduce him." Devanj walked up to Dilrobar, baring his teeth at her. If only he could tear off that fragile skin of her face and watch her harrowed by it... "You will never be able to sway him. He is not going to fall in love ever again."

"He will this time," Dilrobar blurted. "She–"

Devanj didn't let her finish the sentence. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back. Her face twisted in pain and she shut her eyes. The other free hand he placed on the scarred side of her face, digging his nails in the pinkish flesh. "You won't be able to break his vow. He shall not love anyone but her."

"How long will he keep his heart locked? He is doomed to live forever and will one day give up."

Devanj spat on her face. "You care for him a lot, don't you? Not of any importance to me. I advise you to take good care of yourself, because if anyday I get the chance, I will kill you. I am not as merciful as the Rajan. I enjoy hurting women like you."

Devanj freed her and she fell over the table with a thud. Her head hit the wooden surface, a cut damaging her face further. She smiled through tears. "I do not talk about myself, Devanj. I am not here to take Rudra. But someone else has come, and I must inform you."

"Is this another of your old games?"

"No. I am being honest. She has come back."

Devanj's brows furrowed. "What?"

Dilrobar wiped her tears and looked into his amber eyes. "However unworthy you think me to be, circumstances have made me powerful. I am the daughter of a deity, the sole witness to many wicked deeds," she choked on her words, lips quivering in icy fear, "an old killer." She wanted to scratch on her reflection, bile rising to the tip of her throat. Putting a reign over her hatred, she spoke, "All these make me capable of assessing Rudra's curse. I may not know everything but I know a lot. And this time, I am sure that she has returned."

Devanj staggered back. He shook his head. "No, no..." Deep-rooted sorrows flooded his eyes. "Don't make me pray. I am not ready."

"None of us were ever ready, but we still wished for her to come back. As far as destiny's narration, she died during the plague and was, again, born during the same plague."

Devanj shivered uncontrollably. Tears streamed down his sucked in cheeks.

"Angra Mainyu had told she would be born with his mark on her. I saw it. She always hides the birthmark on her back." Dilrobar, very cautiously, touched his shoulders. She was wary of comforting him, but he had no one in this moment except her. "Tell me when you are ready to hear the name."

"Spell it before I faint."

"Indumala."

Devanj's ears rang. Indumala. Indumala. Indumala.

Goosebumps covered his hairy arms. Spots of black whizzed in his periphery.

"Cutting through the storms of separation, defying the cruelty of time, the river of life flows. We die to be reborn, Devanj. Souls return. Return of the light..." She closed her eyes and joined her hands in a namaskara. "Our golden dreams will be manifested. The unfathomable scars shall heal."

"I knew it. I knew it!" Devanj laughed, smiling at Dilrobar for the first time in sixteen years. "I knew she would return. She would break resilient mountains, dry never-ending oceans, push through the barriers of fate, only to come back to her lover. This is the power of love, Dilrobar, this is the power of love!" Devanj walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Dilrobar asked.

"To Rudra," he replied. "I must tell him."

Dilrobar gasped. "Are you mad?" she shouted. "Do you think he will accept whatever you tell him? He is living in illusions. All of us are. Even if I know more than all of you, I believe there are things which are beyond even my perception." Dilrobar's gaze held onto a flickering flame of longing. "The curse won't break just like that."

Devanj, for once, set aside his abhorrence and asked, "Then what must be done?"

"First, you must trust me. Know I am helpless and can never harm their love."

Devanj clenched his fist. "Then?"

"Rudra must be made aware of the changes occurring in his heart. He needs to address them. And then, accept Indumala for who she is now, not what she was once. It's true that she has returned, but now she is a whole new woman. She is a bodyguard, a mage. She is the love of Ishgarian folk."

"But, won't it be difficult for Rudra to accept someone else?"

"I will ask Mataraj Pushyaar to help me. I know she will aid me in this. This will be a gradual process, but not impossible."

"And then?"

"And then... " Dilrobar lowered her head. "What will come after that is something dependent upon fate. But yes, Indumala needs to remember who she was. She already gets visions of the past which she thinks to be nightmares."

Devanj covered his mouth. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes.

Dilrobar flinched. "I am sorry, for everything. I am sorry."

Devanj glared at her. "Stop it, please."

She gulped. "So, we must first help Rudra accept Indumala as his new beloved. It's like history repeating– Rudra must again learn to fall in love, just like years before. I have faith that Shiva will do something to reveal the magnificent truth to us all. Indumala needs to slowly remember, and one day..."

"One day?"

Dilrobar opened the creaking door. "She will herself break the curse. And like a sister, I will accompany her in every step. I will protect her, Devanj, like her divine guardian."

This, the redemption of a sinner.