("Love was never the cure. It was the test.")
Part -1: The Crown Between Us
Sub-topic: Hunger for Control
Sitara stood in the ruins of the old sanctum — the last place untouched by palace politics or prophecy. Dust floated like ghosts in the air, and the scent of forgotten incense lingered, a memory of gods that no longer answered prayers.
Her fingers brushed the cracked stone altar. Magic curled around her hand like smoke — warm, waiting. This time, she didn't flinch from the burn.
"Pain means it's working," she murmured. "Pain means it's mine."
From behind, Lira stepped forward, her voice cautious but firm.
LIRA
"This path will change you."
SITARA (soft, cruel)
"Then maybe I was always meant to change."
She pressed her palm flat to the altar. The Crown flickered — not on her brow, but behind her eyes. It pulsed there. A pressure. A promise. Power coiled up her spine, tightening like a second heartbeat.
"The Shadow doesn't take. It waits until you ask."
And Sitara had stopped asking for permission.
Part -2: Secrets in the Walls
From the shadows of the colonnade, Talan watched. Sitara stood alone, but she radiated power — not raw, not wild, but ancient. And not entirely her own.
She hadn't noticed him.
Or so he thought.
"She's becoming what the prophecy warned us about," Minister Ravindra whispered behind him.
Talan didn't answer. His hand tightened around the scroll hidden beneath his cloak — Nalin's fragmented journal. A single line had rooted itself in his mind like rot:
"The flame must choose. Love or light. Never both."
And Talan feared what Sitara would choose… or what choice she would take away from them all.
Part -3: Smiles With No Warmth
Later, Sitara crossed the courtyard beneath the silver-split sky. She paused, gaze lifting to a high window.
Talan stood there.
Their eyes met.
She smiled.
But not the warm smile of an ally. Not even the sorrowful smile of a fading friend.
It was cold. Knowing. And somehow… merciful.
Talan felt the chill wrap around his ribs.
"She's not warning me," he realized. "She's saying goodbye."
Part -4: The Mirror Lies Less Than Love
Sub-topic: Seeing the Future You Fear… and Want
That night, Sitara returned to the sanctum alone. Her steps echoed like a heartbeat she no longer trusted. She performed the forbidden rite with shaking fingers — blood dripping down her palm, painting a sigil of self. Of intent. Of becoming.
The obsidian mirror responded.
From within its depths, she emerged.
A version of herself — older. Crowned. Shadowed.
Vivaan knelt behind her. Not in chains, but in devotion that looked like ruin. His eyes still found hers. Still held that look — the one that undid her.
"Even when I lose myself… he sees me."
"Even when I wear the crown, he sees the girl beneath it."
She hated that.
She loved that.
And that — terrified her most of all.
Part -5: Lies to Save the One You Love
Talan cornered one of Nalin's surviving disciples that same night. The words had to be dragged from the man's throat like thorns.
DISCIPLE
"If she reaches her full power… the prince will have no choice. He must end her. Or the kingdom burns."
Talan didn't tell Vivaan.
He told Ravindra.
TALAN
"We must act now. She's already slipping."
RAVINDRA
"Into what?"
TALAN
"…Into everything we feared she would be."
Part -6: Lovers as Weapons
Vivaan woke in the middle of the night with his palms seared red, the fire beside him untouched.
But he remembered the heat — remembered her.
Not the Sitara he loved, but the crowned version from their shared vision. Her hand in his dreams. Her power in his bones.
VIVAAN (to the dark)
"Stop calling to me."
"I can't protect you if I'm afraid of you."
The flame inside him twisted, confused and angry — like it no longer knew who to obey. Her magic had touched his, even across miles. Or maybe it never left.
Was this longing?
Or warning?
Part -7: Seduction of Power
Sitara stood before the mirror again.
This time, the Crown didn't flicker.
It stayed.
It belonged.
She looked at herself. Looked through herself. And whispered:
SITARA
"Let him come. Let him try to save me."
"I want him to see what I am."
But something in her voice — something buried deep — broke.
Not in fear.
In grief.
End Scene
In two separate corners of the kingdom —
Sitara stares into the mirror.
Vivaan stares into the fire.
Their voices never cross.
But their thoughts scream the same question:
"If I become what they fear…
Will you still love me then?"
"Prophecies don't ruin people. Love does.
Especially when it asks you to choose."