The days after the festival passed in a blur for both Devika and Aarav. Neither could forget the night beneath the moon, nor the eyes that seemed to echo something ancient — like a promise spoken in another life.
Devika buried herself in rehearsals and rituals, but her heart was restless. Her fingers trembled during the dance. She no longer felt the flow of the temple — it was as if something within her had stirred awake and refused to return to silence. Meera noticed.
"You've changed," Meera whispered one afternoon as they prepared lamps for the evening aarti.
Devika hesitated. "Have I?"
"You move like the river now — wild and uncertain."
Devika looked toward the garden. "Maybe I finally know what I'm dancing for."
Across the city, Aarav sat on the palace ramparts staring out at the city skyline. He had drawn her face a dozen times in his leather-bound sketchbook. He didn't know her name, only her eyes. And yet, they haunted him like a forgotten lullaby.
"You're not even trying to train," Surya complained as he tried to spar with him.
Aarav ducked absentmindedly. "I met someone."
"A courtesan?"
"No. A soul on fire."
"You've gone mad."
"Maybe," Aarav said, smiling.
That night, under the guise of a moon offering, he returned to the temple gardens. He didn't know if she'd be there. But something told him she would.
And she was.
Devika stepped out from the shadows, holding a silver lamp. Her heart pounded when she saw him.
"You came back," she said.
"I didn't have a choice."
She looked down. "This is dangerous."
"I don't care."
He stepped closer. The lamp flickered between them.
"What do you want from me?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said. "Only to know your name."
"Devika."
"Aarav."
Silence followed. And in that silence, something sacred bloomed.
They sat on the garden steps, sharing stories in hushed tones — of lonely dances and unchosen wars, of dreams they weren't allowed to dream. She spoke of the stars. He spoke of rivers. Their words spun like threads between them, weaving something invisible, yet undeniable.
"You don't belong here," Aarav said suddenly. "You were born for more than this temple."
Devika's eyes shimmered. "And you were born to fight something greater than men."
He smiled. "Maybe we were both born to find each other."
Above them, the moon watched silently. And though the night ended with a quiet goodbye, the garden would not forget. Nor would the stars.
The story had begun.