No more letters on disappearances:-
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The royal court of Suvarna Mandali felt quieter than usual that morning.
Not peaceful.
Only uncertain.
For nearly two days, no new disappearance reports had reached the palace. The endless flow of letters that once arrived every morning carrying fear, missing names, and desperate pleas had suddenly slowed into silence.
Thirty people had vanished.
And then—
nothing.
The ministers stood across the grand hall in uneasy stillness while servants carried the final set of letters toward the throne. King Karthikeya looked through them carefully one after another before placing the last aside.
"No new cases," he said slowly.
The king's voice echoed lightly through the pillars of the court.
"It has been two days. Why?"
The question settled heavily across the hall.
One of the older ministers stepped forward first.
"Perhaps the villages have become more cautious, Maharaj. Families no longer allow their sons outside after dark."
Another added, "Whoever is behind these disappearances may have already achieved their purpose."
A third minister lowered his voice slightly before speaking.
"Or perhaps they are simply waiting before acting again."
Different answers followed, yet every explanation carried the same truth beneath it.
No one truly understood what was happening.
The court had reached the limit of logic.
King Karthikeya remained silent for a moment, his fingers resting against the arm of the throne.
Then, unexpectedly, he asked,
"Have there ever been similar cases in the past… involving black magic?"
The atmosphere inside the court changed instantly.
Several ministers exchanged quick glances. Until now, none of them had wished to bring such thoughts openly into the royal court. Superstitions and dark rituals belonged to frightened villagers, wandering priests, and whispered stories—not discussions beneath the royal seal of Suvarna Mandali.
Yet now the question had come from the king himself.
One minister immediately bowed his head.
"We shall search the older records, Maharaj."
Another followed quickly.
"We will investigate the temple archives as well."
"Ancient village records may contain references to such incidents."
One after another, the ministers agreed to search for anything connected to black magic or unexplained disappearances from the past.
All except one.
Vikrantha remained silent.
King Karthikeya's eyes slowly shifted toward him.
Unlike the others, Vikrantha showed no urgency to follow the discussion toward black magic. His face remained calm, but the silence itself revealed enough. Karthikeya had known him long enough to understand what rested beneath it.
Vikrantha did not like the idea.
The king spoke before he could.
"We have no movement in this case, Vikrantha," Karthikeya said quietly. "No witness. No enemy standing before us. No explanation for why these disappearances began… or why they suddenly stopped."
The king leaned back slowly against the throne.
"When reason fails to move forward," he continued, "even kings are left searching within shadows."
The court fell silent once more.
Vikrantha lowered his eyes briefly, though whether in agreement or discomfort, no one could tell.
Beyond the towering pillars of the palace, the kingdom of Suvarna Mandali stood trapped in a silence that no longer felt like relief—
only the pause before something unseen moved again.
Delayed Replies:-
-----------------
The deeper the night grew, the more endless the forest began to feel.
Puru continued carrying Raghu through the darkness, forcing himself to move carefully despite every part of his body begging him to stop. He knew the Gurukula had to be nearby now. The trees had slowly begun thinning compared to the deeper parts of the forest, and the earth beneath his feet felt more familiar.
Still, he did not dare rush.
One careless step on the uneven ground would be enough to throw both of them down the slope of roots and stone hidden beneath the darkness. Raghu's body had already endured more pain than it should have survived.
So Puru walked fast—
but carefully.
Every few steps, he slightly adjusted Raghu's weight and lowered his head just enough to feel for movement. Raghu's chest rested close to the side of his neck, allowing Puru to focus desperately on the faint rhythm of his heartbeat.
Each weak beat pushed him forward another few steps.
Then he would quietly call again.
"Raghu…"
The answer came after a delay.
"…hm…"
The sound was weak, lazy almost, as if even opening his mouth demanded more strength than his body could spare.
But hearing it still gave Puru enough relief to continue.
Again.
A few more painful steps.
"Raghu."
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"…still here…"
Puru shut his eyes for half a second after hearing it.
The weakness in Raghu's voice was slowly becoming unbearable to listen to. Every delayed answer felt like something inside him tightening harder and harder.
The forest around them had grown darker now.
Not the darkness of evening.
The darkness where shapes disappeared completely.
The path beneath Puru's feet had almost vanished beneath shadows and roots. The trees stood like towering black figures around them while the sounds of the forest became sharper than the darkness itself.
Branches cracked somewhere unseen.
Leaves shifted without wind.
The distant cries of insects and animals echoed through the trees in strange uneven rhythms that made the silence between them feel even worse.
Puru's breathing had become rough again.
More than once, he thought he had finally reached the outer edge of the Gurukula forest. Through gaps between trees, he kept seeing faint shapes that resembled walls, gates, or distant lights.
Every single time—
they dissolved into darkness as he approached.
Exhaustion had begun twisting his sight.
He started doubting himself again.
Should he have run earlier?
Should he have ignored the risk and carried Raghu faster from the beginning?
What if every careful step had only wasted time?
The thoughts kept returning again and again, eating through the little confidence he still held together.
Then suddenly—
another thought entered his mind.
The dream.
That strange woman whose face glowed softly in the darkness.
"I have chosen you for this…"
The words echoed faintly through his exhausted mind.
Who was she?
What did she mean?
Could he really do this?
Puru's grip tightened unconsciously around Raghu.
Then all at once, his thoughts shattered again as he quickly called out,
"Raghu!"
Silence.
Puru kept walking, waiting for the usual delayed reply.
Nothing came.
His heartbeat immediately rose.
"Raghu…"
Still nothing.
The forest sounds suddenly felt distant.
Puru's legs weakened beneath him.
For a brief terrifying moment, his mind refused to move forward. He listened desperately for breath, for movement, for anything at all from Raghu.
Nothing.
Fear struck him harder than any enemy he had faced that day.
His hands trembled violently around Raghu's body.
No.
No.
He was close.
He had to be close.
Puru's breathing broke apart as panic finally overpowered exhaustion. Every careful decision he had made vanished in that instant.
And he ran.
Not carefully anymore.
Not steadily.
He sprinted through the forest with whatever remained in his body, branches striking against his shoulders as he forced his way through the darkness. His vision shook violently with each step, his lungs burning as terror pushed him forward harder than strength ever could.
Then suddenly—
the trees ended.
Puru burst out from the forest line.
Far ahead, beneath the dim glow of Gurukula lamps nearly a hundred feet away, two figures stood near the entrance path.
Sukarna.
Tanuj.
For one brief moment, the world seemed to stop.
Then Sukarna saw them.
The instant his eyes fell upon Raghu's blood-covered body hanging across Puru's shoulders, he rushed forward without a second of hesitation.
Beside him, Tanuj froze in shock.
His body remained still for a heartbeat too long as his eyes struggled to process the horrifying sight before him.
Then he too began running toward them.
No more responsibilities:-
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The moment Sukarna reached them, he did not waste a single second asking questions.
His eyes took in everything at once—the blood staining Raghu's clothes, the whip wounds torn across his body, the exhaustion carved into Puru's face, the trembling in his legs barely keeping him upright.
Without hesitation, Sukarna stepped forward and carefully lifted Raghu from Puru's shoulders into his own arms.
And in that exact moment—
something inside Puru finally let go.
Until then, some invisible force had kept him standing. Fear. Responsibility. Desperation. He did not know anymore.
But the instant Raghu's weight left his body, the strength holding him together disappeared with it.
Relief struck harder than exhaustion.
Puru's knees gave way beneath him.
He fell forward onto the cold earth before he could even realize it, his hands barely stopping his face from striking the ground. The forest dirt felt strangely cold against his skin after the burning heat that had consumed his body for hours.
For the first time since entering the abandoned village—
Raghu was no longer his burden to carry alone.
Puru tried to breathe properly, but his lungs only dragged in broken breaths. His entire body shook uncontrollably now that it no longer had a reason to remain strong.
Beside him, Tanuj finally reached them.
The closer he came, the more horrifying Raghu's condition became beneath the Gurukula lamps. The wounds no longer looked distant or unreal like they had from afar. The dried blood. The torn skin. The marks of chains around his wrists.
Tanuj's breathing stopped for a moment.
"Raghu…"
The name escaped his mouth weakly, almost like he was afraid saying it aloud would make the sight real.
But Puru could barely hear him anymore.
His vision had already begun blurring heavily around the edges. The sounds around him felt distant, stretched apart like echoes underwater.
The last thing he saw clearly before darkness slowly pulled at his consciousness was Sukarna carrying Raghu toward the Gurukula with urgency for the first time that night.
And strangely—
that was enough.
Enough for his body to finally stop fighting.