Chapter 12: The Mark of the Lineage
The gathering was assembled under the shade of an old peepal tree in the village square. Aarav, Kiyan, Nayan, and Karishma sat before the Sarpanch (village headman) and the village elders, who looked at them with a mixture of suspicion and awe. The air was heavy with seriousness, and everyone's eyes were fixed on Aarav, who kept glancing at his right wrist - where the mark of the Aadisrashta Chakra (divine discus of the creator) was slowly deepening, as if golden lines were being drawn under his skin instead of blood.
"You know about that cave of Kalprant," Aarav began, his voice carrying a new, firm gravity. "And we need to know about Virbhadra."
The Sarpanch's face was as still as stone. His eyes, which had grown dim with age, were now fixed on Aarav's wrist. "Show me your hand, son," his voice held a trembling depth.
Aarav extended his wrist without hesitation. The mark of the Aadisrashta Chakra emerged in full glow, as if living gold was pulsating beneath his skin.
After a moment of profound silence, the Sarpanch's breath caught. "This... this is..."
And then, something no one had expected happened.
The Sarpanch let go of his staff. Slowly, like an old tree bending in the wind, he lowered himself to his knees. His back was straight, but his head was bowed deeply. One by one, the elders behind him did the same kneeling, heads bowed. This was not just respect. It was reverence. Centuries old, ingrained in their blood.
Nayan's mouth fell open. Karishma covered her mouth with her hand. Aarav was stunned, his eyes darting between the bowed heads and Kiyan.
Kiyan was smiling. But it was not his usual shy smile. There was a deep, bitter irony in it. A detachment that came from centuries of pain and contradiction. His eyes met Aarav's, and in that gaze was a question - See? How tangled our story is.
"Get up, Sarpanch ji," Aarav's voice trembled. He stepped forward, took the old man's hands, and lifted him. "Why are you doing this?"
The Sarpanch took Aarav's hands in his own, examining his wrist carefully, like an archaeologist reading an ancient inscription. "You... you are a Devanshik (a divinely blessed one who wields divine power) ."
The word hung in the air. Devanshik. Ancient word. Protector. Destroyer. Power.
"How do you know this?" Aarav asked.
"This mark..." the Sarpanch pointed toward his wrist, his finger hovering over the mark, not daring to touch. "The Aadisrashta Chakra. This is the identity of a Devanshik. Our Raja (King) Manikya had the same mark on his hand. Our ancestors saw it with their own eyes. They told us. And we told the next generation. This mark... it is in your blood."
Aarav shook his head slightly. "Yes. I am a descendant of Raja Manikya's son, Yuvaraj (Crown Prince) Nachiketa."
The Sarpanch's face grew even more serious, a wave of disbelief and awe running through his eyes. "So... you know the story?"
"Parts of it," Aarav said. "Not all. That's why I came to your village. And to learn about the Tamomayi (dark practitioner) Virbhadra."
At the mention of Virbhadra's name, the Sarpanch's body shuddered. He gripped his staff again, as if it was his only support. "That... that demon. What do you want to know about him?"
"Everything," Aarav's voice now carried an iron resolve. "Because I have to end him."
The Sarpanch took a step back from Aarav. "End him? But... but he died centuries ago! Your own ancestors ended him!"
"No," Aarav said, his eyes now glowing - not with anger, but with a sad truth. "He has returned. And he has..." his gaze fell on Kiyan, then back to the Sarpanch. "He has possessed someone's body. And now he is free. He can enter anyone's body. We have to end him quickly."
The Sarpanch looked at Aarav, then at Kiyan, then at Karishma. His brows furrowed. "But you said... this boy, Kiyan... he is the son of a Chhayagrasini (witch-like entity) . A Chhayodhbhav (nightborn entity who drains age) . Then how is he with you? A Chhayodhbhav and a Devanshik? How is this possible? Your ancestors were enemies of witches! Then how can you live with a witch?"
Aarav stepped forward and placed his hand on the Sarpanch's shoulder. His touch was firm, reassuring. "Yes, you spoke the truth. My ancestors destroyed evil. And Karishma and Kiyan... they are Chhayagrasinis. But they are not evil."
He looked at Kiyan, who was now listening seriously. "There is no evil in Karishma and Kiyan's souls. They are with goodness. That's why when I touched Karishma, she felt no pain. And Kiyan..." Aarav's voice softened slightly, "when I first touched Kiyan, we both fell away from each other. Because there was a struggle within him then. But now... now there is no evil within him. That's why my touch doesn't hurt him anymore."
A faint, understanding smile spread from Kiyan's side. It was true. Aarav's touch was no longer a burn for him, but a warm, protective shield.
The Sarpanch looked at Aarav, then at Kiyan. There was struggle in his eyes - centuries old enmity versus the truth he saw before him. Finally, he took a deep breath. "Alright. If you say so, then alright. But defeating Virbhadra... it's not that easy. He is very powerful."
"I know," Aarav said. "But we have to defeat him. Otherwise, who knows what he will do to fulfill his purpose. And his purpose is - to attain immortality. And for that, he can do anything. Anything."
The Sarpanch thought for a few moments, then said, "There is a way. The mysterious manuscript of Kalprant. It is in the palace of your own ancestors. You yourself will have to bring it from there. In that manuscript are written the names of all your descendants. And the entire story of that Tamomayi is written there."
Aarav looked at Kiyan. Without a word, Kiyan stepped forward. "We will bring that manuscript. From the Raj Bhawan (royal palace) ."
The Sarpanch gestured to a young man standing behind him. "Vikram. Take them to the palace."
"Yes, Sarpanch ji," Vikram bowed.
Following Vikram, Aarav, Kiyan, Nayan, and Karishma set off. The Sarpanch watched them go, a mixture of concern and a strange hope in his eyes.
Meanwhile, in the same cave where it all began, Kiyan (possessed by Virbhadra) stood before his Agni Kund (sacred fire pit) . Green and black flames flickered in the fire, within which echoes of screams could be heard.
Kiyan (Virbhadra) held in his hand the small, black braid he had taken from the cave - his mother, the Chhayagrasini's braid. A distorted, emotionless smile was on his face.
"Now... now you are mine," he said in a rasping voice, and threw the braid into the Agni Kund.
As the braid fell into the fire, it ignited with a sharp crackling sound. A thick, black smoke rose from it, swirling in the air and beginning to take shape - a human figure, but without a face, with only two burning green dots. A Shadow Simmer (Chhaya Santap a shadow creature that burns with venomous rage) . Virbhadra's lower-ranked servant.
"What is your command, my master?" the Shadow Simmer's voice echoed like a rustle in the air.
Virbhadra stepped forward, plucked a strand of hair from Kiyan's body, and threw it toward the Shadow Simmer. "Go. Take control of Kiyan's body and bring him here."
The Shadow Simmer swallowed the hair, turned into a cloud of black smoke, and flew out of the cave, disappearing into the night.
Virbhadra was left alone. He looked at the Agni Kund, and then let out a deep, satisfied laugh. "Kiyan... I will capture your body. Even if I have to go to any lengths for that."
It took them about an hour to reach the ruins of the Raj Bhawan (royal palace) . The entrance to the palace was closed, but Vikram showed them a secret passage - behind a broken wall.
The hall inside was vast and desolate. Clouds of dust floated in the air. Ancient paintings adorned the walls, depicting scenes of battle, and a king Raja Manikya wielding the Aadisrashta Chakra.
"Where will the manuscript be?" Nayan asked softly, his voice echoing.
"Perhaps in the royal court," Aarav said, and began to move forward.
Just then, a sharp rustle sounded in the air.
Like a streak of black smoke, a Shadow Simmer appeared in the middle of the hall. It looked directly at Kiyan, its green eyes flashing.
Kiyan sensed the danger. He stepped back, but the Shadow Simmer advanced at lightning speed. Its black, misty arms spread and grabbed Kiyan's throat.
"Kiyan!" Aarav shouted.
Kiyan's throat began to choke. He tried to grab at his neck, but the Shadow Simmer's touch was not solid - it was ice-cold and sticky, like tar. The Shadow Simmer lifted Kiyan into the air and began pulling him toward the ceiling of the palace.
Aarav, Nayan, and Karishma stood frozen, watching in shock.
Kiyan closed his eyes. For a moment, his body went limp. Then, suddenly, his eyes opened - and they were glowing golden. His nails grew long and sharp, like gleaming black talons. He slashed quickly, and the Shadow Simmer's black arms were cut, dissolving into smoke. The Shadow Simmer screamed - a sharp, inhuman scream.
Kiyan fell, but regained his balance in mid-air, and landed softly on the ground. His golden eyes were now fixed on the Shadow Simmer, which was now dimming.
The Shadow Simmer took shape again, but now it was fainter, weaker. It came and stood directly in front of Kiyan.
Kiyan looked at it, and then at the locket hanging around his neck the same locket that Aarav had given him, now glowing with a faint golden light. Kiyan and Aarav's eyes met. In a moment, without words, an understanding was reached.
The Shadow Simmer advanced to attack again, but then Kiyan extended his hand touching the locket. A sharp, golden light burst from the locket, striking the Shadow Simmer directly.
The Shadow Simmer screamed and retreated, its smoke scattering further. It swirled in the air and fled out of the palace like a black streak.
Silence fell.
Kiyan's eyes returned to normal. He was breathing heavily. Aarav ran to him. "Kiyan! Are you okay?"
Kiyan nodded, but his eyes were on the locket. "It... saved me. Your power did."
Just then, from afar, from the direction of the cave, Virbhadra's echoing, angry scream was heard, piercing the air like thorns
"DEVANSHIK (DIVINELY BLESSED ONE) !!"
Aarav clenched his fist. The battle had come even closer.
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