Agnira stood amidst the chaos with mask and hood cap in black cloak, the rescued child safely reunited with her mother.
But she remained rooted in place. The flames roared higher, crackling as if alive, yet she did not move.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"Who is he? Even the fire cannot touch him…"
"So fierce, yet not a single cloth is burned…"
The blaze surged, and a collapsing wooden beam crashed down toward her. Shaurya and Inara both froze in shock.
"What is she doing?!"
" Why isn't she moving?!" Inara's voice broke, trembling.
Fear spread like wildfire among the people. They stumbled backward, retreating from her.
"This is dark sorcery… a cursed witch!"
"Dark Sorcery"
Amidst the crowd, another figure had appeared quietly—the Tribe Leader (Mohini) herself. Her sharp eyes scanned the scene, and the moment they fell upon the fiery figure trapped in the flames, a flicker of recognition crossed her face.
She stilled, her heart tightening.
"Could it be…?"
Though she said nothing, the unease in her gaze deepened.
Just like Inara and Shaurya, she too felt an unfamiliar worry stirring within her chest.
Those whispers struck Agnira like daggers, dragging her back into the depths of her past.
Her vision blurred. The festival, the screaming voices—they vanished. She was a child again.
A burning hut towered over her, flames devouring the roof.
Her tribe rushed with buckets of water, desperate to smother the inferno try to extinguish the fire with their spiritual power.
Yet in the center of it all stood a little girl, untouched by the flames.
The fire clung to her like a beast, curling around her body but leaving no scars, no burns.
From the blazing wreckage, the child stumbled out.
Ash smeared her face, grief and shock etched into her young features—but her skin was unmarked.
Gasps filled the air. Horror twisted the eyes of those who watched.
"She's cursed!"
"Dark sorcery…"
"She devoured her own mother!"
The tribe mother rushed forward, seizing the trembling girl and pulling her into her arms. Her voice trembled as she shouted,
"Agnira!"
"Agnira!Where is your mother?!"
"Agnira! Agnira! "
But the child was too stunned to answer.
Inside the hut, nothing remained—only ashes, blackened wood, and a single soul lamp of her mother flickering faintly.
From that day forward, the survivor became a curse whispered in every corner.
—
Now, in the present, Agnira's knees buckled. The flames licked around her body just as they had back then, her mind shackled in memory.
Shaurya and Inara fought desperately, their powers slamming against the wildfire, but the inferno raged on as if it had chosen not to die.
"Your Highness, no!" General Bijli's her voice frantic.
"Prince, you cannot stay here—it's too dangerous! You must return to the palace immediately!"
General Bijli tried to pull him back, but Shaurya's roar shook them off.
"A true prince does not abandon his people in the flames!"
His eyes were locked on Agnira, unwavering.
At the same time, Inara's own guards and her served maids rushed forward, pale with panic.
"Young Mistress! Please, this place will collapse at any moment. You must return, or the Master will be furious!"
But Inara thrust her staff into the ground, violet light sparking around her.
"I will not leave her!"
The maids tried again, pleading "Young Mistress"—but Inara's resolve burned brighter than the flames.
Together, Shaurya and Inara unleashed their true forms. Power erupted, their Soulbeast auras blazing. White feathers spread wide as Inara transformed, her peacock aura shimmering like a radiant shield. Shaurya throw his mask , his figure shimmered with silver-white light, the roar of a lion thundering through the inferno.
Gasps erupted from those who remained.
"White Lion… could it be… the Royal Prince himself?"
"And that girl—those wings ! The White Peacock clan's YoungMi!"
Even General Bijli gritted his teeth,
"If you insist on risking your lives, then I will not stand aside!", then shifted into his Spirutaul form golden radiant cat shimmered behind her , his aura crackling like lightning.
Gasps errupted again, "That is General Bijli !"
The three forces surged together. Flames shrieked and recoiled, retreating for the first time as power hammered against them.
Bit by bit, the blaze weakened.
And yet, at the center of it all, Agnira remained unmoving—her body in the fire, her spirit still locked in the cage of her memories.
All three of them desperately fought the fire with their powers, focusing on protecting the her. Soldiers and guards joined in, aiding them in putting out the flames. Yet the whispers and rumors among the crowd refused to die down—Was he truly insane?
A witch!
A devil power!
Mothers of rabbit beast children clutched their little ones tightly to their chests, as if shielding them from the possibility that her children savious's true identity was something dangerous. Suspicion was growing.
Then, suddenly—
A fierce surge of spiritual energy collided with the fire.
In an instant, the blazing flames were snuffed out, leaving only smoke curling in the air. Everyone—the three guardians and the gathered crowd—turned sharply toward the sky.
There, descending without wings, lifted solely by the strength of her own powers, was a figure draped in a long dark maroon hooded cloak that concealed her entire body.
But what chilled them most… were her long, crimson nails, gleaming like blades in the dim light.
The flames had died out, but smoke still curled thick in the air, veiling everything in a ghostly haze. Through it, the hooded figure flying closer.
Then—she turned toward the crowd.
Suddenly, her hood caught fire, crackling as flames devoured the fabric. Within moments, the cloak burned away to reveal a breathtaking figure.
A woman stood before them in a stunning crimson royal gown, long stylish hair , adorned with glittering jewels. Her beauty was mesmerizing, her presence commanding.
Gasps rippled through the onlookers. Inara, Shaurya, and General Bijli all froze, their eyes locked on her.
From somewhere in the crowd, a voice trembled:
"Greeting, Your Highness…"
Instantly, the entire crowd bowed low, their voices uniting in reverence. Even General Bijli bent his head. His words carried weight as he whispered:
"As I heard in the stories… the Queen of Agniyata—Queen Vishatara."
The murmur spread like wildfire, every ear straining to catch her name, every voice echoing it.
Yet, amidst this greeting, Inara and Shaurya remained silent. Their focus was elsewhere. Both of them had pushed through the haze to reach Agnira.
"Inara reached for her first. 'How are you? How did you get trapped in the fire—'"
But the moment her fingers brushed Agnira's hand, they passed right through. Shocked, Inara tried again, touching her shoulder, her face—nothing but air.
Shaurya's hand swept across the girl's image, his voice tightening with disbelief.
"This… this is only an illusion. Then where is she? Agnira was just here—"
Above them, Queen Vishatara descended gracefully, her magic parting the thick smoke like curtains.
In the clearing mist, only Shaurya and Inara stood—facing the fading image of Agnira that shimmered and dissolved into nothing.
Queen of Agniyata — Vishtara stood there, smirking as she watched the two of them together… "Bold child!".
With a single wave of her hand, a slash of power cut through the air, making Agnira's illusion vanish instantly.
Everyone gasped in shock.
What was that?
An illusion?
Where did it disappear to?
The figure of Agnira in the black mask and hood grew even more mysterious in their eyes.
Vishatara's voice slipped out in a whisper, velvet yet edged with steel:
"An illusion… quite the performance."
At once, General Bijli stepped forward, bowing deeply. Her voice rang clear in the smoky air:
"Your Highness, Queen Vishatara, Welcome to the Kingdom of Vanrakshak."
"As the general of this land, I offer you our greetings."
Her guards followed suit, lowering their heads in respect.
Vishatara's mysterious smile only deepened. Her gaze slid toward Shaurya and Inara, her words cutting like fire:
"Ah… but what's this? Has the little prince forgotten his manners? "
"Do children no longer greet their elders?"
For a moment, both Shaurya and Inara froze, caught between worry for Agnira and the Queen's piercing attention.
Neither could afford suspicion—not here, not now.
Steeling themselves, they bowed low.
"Greeting, Queen of Agniyata," Shaurya said, his voice calm though his jaw was tight.
Inara followed quickly, her tone composed yet warm.
"Greeting, Your Highness.!"
" Your powers are truly extraordinary… I have admired you for a long time. I've read countless accounts and heard tales of your beauty and strength, but none of them compare to meeting you in person."
Queen Vishatara's lips curved into a sharper smile. She stepped closer, her presence suffocating yet intoxicating.
"And how does it feel now, White Peacock Clan Heir … meeting me face-to-face?"
Behind Inara's innocent eyes, a storm of thoughts raged.
'White Peacock Clan Heir … she knows everything. Heaven, save us.!'
'In truth, her beauty is really incomparable.'
'Meeting her in person—she's even more terrifying than the stories. How can someone so breathtaking appear so frightening?'
'Poor Agnira… where has she gone? Because of this Frightening Queen, I can't even search for her in peace.'
Queen Vishatara's eyes gleamed as she added, with a pointed emphasis:
"Earlier, I witnessed both of your true forms with my own eyes. A rare sight indeed. It brought me… great delight."
While everyone else was desperately searching for Agnira—some for a masked man, others for a lost friend—she lay unconscious high above, on the branches of a distant tree.
Trapped in the storm of her dreams, she fought against her own torment.
In her nightmare, she cried out, trembling with fury,
"I didn't kill my mother! "
"I don't want this cursed body! "
"Stay away from me—everyone stay away!"
With a sudden surge of anger, Agnira's bright blue eyes snapped open, glowing with a flickering light.
Her colorful hair shimmered, strands shifting into radiant hues as they danced wildly in the air, sparking like fire.
Just then, a tall and striking figure approached. Dressed in a cream-orange robe, his long dark brown hair glistened under the moonlight.
A fox-shaped mask hid his face as he stepped closer.
"You're awake," he said calmly, his voice steady.
As the mask slipped away, his features caught the light—sharp yet graceful, radiant like dawn
"Woah…"he whispered, breathless."This… unbelievably beautiful."
To be Continued.....