The storm of crows screeched and clawed around her, their wings slicing through the night, but Gauri kept moving. Her arms shielded her face, her legs trembling from the force, yet her will refused to break. Every step was agony, every breath burned—but the sight of Vihaan writhing in pain pushed her forward.
"Gauri!" Vihaan gasped, his voice barely audible over the chaos. "Go back!"
She shook her head through tears, her voice breaking. "Never."
Pushing past the wall of darkness, she fell beside him, her hands trembling as they cupped his face. The roots still pulsed with an eerie black light, twisting tighter around him.
"Vihaan… look at me," she whispered, her tears falling onto his cheeks. "I'm here… I'm right here."
Vihaan's breath was ragged, his body cold, but when his eyes met hers, the torment softened for a moment. "You shouldn't have come," he murmured weakly, his lips quivering.
Gauri pressed her forehead to his, both of them crying silently as the world around them blurred into chaos. Their tears mingled—his pain and her desperation becoming one.
"Whatever happens," Gauri whispered, her voice trembling yet resolute, "we'll face it together."
Vihaan's hand lifted, weak but yearning, and he held the back of her head. "Together," he repeated hoarsely.
The dark sky crackled as Kamini's laughter echoed through the backyard, the sound of madness and triumph. Yet even her voice couldn't drown the fragile heartbeat between Gauri and Vihaan.
Meanwhile… at the River Ganga.
The Pratham Vanshi women stood on the riverbank, their eyes fierce and focused. The air shimmered with divine energy as torches flickered violently in the wind. The head priestess—her long hair tied with sacred red threads—raised a silver staff marked with ancient runes.
"The blood moon rises," she declared solemnly. "Kamini's power returns… but so must the Jalpanchi's spirit."
She drew a symbol in the air with glowing powder, and the river began to swirl, glowing with hues of blue and white.
"May the waters remember their promise," the women chanted in unison.
"May the chosen one's heart awaken when her soul is tested."
The waters surged higher, forming a radiant spiral that reached toward the sky. Yet the light only traveled a short distance—flickering as though blocked by darkness.
"She is not ready yet," whispered one of the women.
"She must face her greatest pain before the awakening begins," the priestess replied gravely, her gaze distant. "The test of love, sacrifice, and will must come first."
---
Back at the mansion, the storm intensified. Gauri's tears dripped onto Vihaan's wounds, glowing faintly as if the river's call had brushed her soul—but the power was not yet hers.
Kamini's golden eyes flickered with annoyance. "Touching. Pathetic, but touching."
She raised her hand, summoning serpents of black smoke that coiled around her arms. "Let's see if love still breathes when pain becomes unbearable."
The ground split beneath Vihaan and Gauri as dark energy pulsed around them.
The family screamed their names, helpless as Kamini's laughter grew louder, echoing through the wind.
And far away, at the Ganges, the sacred fire flickered violently—its flames bending toward the Kothari mansion.
The ritual had begun.
But Gauri's awakening had not.
The night sky trembled as thunder split the heavens apart.
The crimson moon was slowly swallowed by storm clouds, and soon, the first drops of rain began to fall—cold, heavy, and relentless.
Gauri and Vihaan wept amidst the chaos. Their tears blended with the rain as the ground beneath them trembled with Kamini's dark laughter.
Then, with a flick of her hand, Kamini unleashed her cruelty once more.
Roots shot from the earth, glowing with black energy, piercing through Vihaan's body and hoisting him high into the air like a sacrificial offering.
"Vihaan!" Gauri screamed, her voice breaking through the storm.
Veena fell to her knees, clutching her heart as tears streamed down her face. "No… not my son… please, not my Vihaan…"
Sharda and Urvashi held her, their own eyes red with fear and helplessness.
But Kamini only smiled—a dark, twisted pleasure curving her lips. "How poetic," she purred. "A mother's tears, a lover's cries… all so deliciously tragic."
Vihaan groaned in agony as blood dripped from the roots' wounds, tracing crimson lines down his body. The droplets splashed to the ground—one drop falling directly onto Gauri's forehead, marking her hairline like a sacred vermilion of pain.
She froze, feeling its warmth through the cold rain. Slowly, trembling, she touched the blood—his blood—smearing it across her hairline. The rain tried to wash it away, but it stayed, glowing faintly even under the storm.
Kamini's eyes widened slightly. "Interesting…" she murmured. "The bond of blood… so strong it defies my curse."
Gauri's breath came in sharp bursts. Every cry from Vihaan echoed in her heart like thunder. Every tear that fell from Veena's eyes was a spark in her veins.
Then—something inside her snapped.
The storm stilled for one terrifying heartbeat.
"STOP IT!!!!!" Gauri screamed, her voice raw, filled with rage and despair.
The very air shattered.
Lightning streaked across the sky. Every bulb in the backyard exploded in a burst of glass and fire. Trees in the nearby forest split in half, their roots tearing from the soil. The ground cracked open, sending ripples of raw power across the lawn.
The rain froze midair—each droplet suspended like tiny stars caught in time.
The Kotharis gasped, shielding their faces from the blinding light. Veena clutched Sharda's arm, speechless. Urvashi whispered, trembling, "What… what's happening to her?"
Even Kamini looked startled for the first time—her serpentine eyes narrowing. "That power… it can't be…"
Gauri's body glowed faintly, her wet hair plastered to her face, her hands trembling as energy pulsed beneath her skin.
She opened her eyes—
And they were no longer brown.
They were glowing blue, deep as the Ganges, fierce as a storm.
Vihaan, still bound, stared at her through the pain. His voice was hoarse, full of awe and disbelief.
"Gauri…" he whispered.
Kamini's smile returned, though thinner now, a touch of unease flickering beneath it.
"So," she murmured, "the river finally chooses its vessel."
The wind howled. The raindrops began to fall again—but slower, glowing faintly around Gauri, as though the very storm now obeyed her.
The balance had shifted.
The awakening had begun.
To be continued…