The kingdom of Kalyagarh slept beneath a sky split in two.Half drenched in sunlight, half drowned in darkness.The priests whispered that such a sky was a sign — that when sun and shadow met, something unnatural was born.
Inside the marble walls of the royal palace, the Queen screamed.
Outside, thunder rolled, and the people fell to their knees. Every bell in the city began to ring — some in prayer, others in fear. The royal astrologers ran up the tower stairs, clutching scrolls and charms, shouting that the sun was dying.
But within the birthing chamber, only one sound mattered — the cry of a newborn girl.
It was sharp, piercing, and strong enough to make even the wind pause.
"The princess is born!" shouted the midwife. "She lives!"
The King, Rudravar, entered the room moments later, face pale from hours of waiting. He was a tall man, armored even in peace, carrying the smell of sandalwood and steel.When he saw the baby, his eyes softened for a heartbeat.
Then he looked at the window — at the sun swallowed by the moon.The world outside had turned red and black.
A priest stepped forward, trembling. "Your Majesty… the child was born during the Eclipse of Fire. This is not a good omen."
The King's expression darkened. "What does it mean?"
The priest hesitated, voice shaking. "In our old texts, it is written — those born in the Fire Eclipse are touched by flame and fate. They bring both greatness and ruin."
The King looked at the child again.She stared back — her tiny eyes reflecting a faint spark of red.
"Flame and ruin," he murmured.He turned away. "Take her to the Queen."
But the Queen, weak and bleeding, reached out a trembling hand. "She's ours, Rudravar… she's our firstborn… she's Iraja."
The King didn't answer.He placed the crown back on his head and left the room.
Outside, the eclipse ended.The light returned — but for Kalyagarh, a new shadow had already been born.
In the corner, the palace nurse cradled the newborn and whispered,"Little Iraja… may the gods protect you. You'll need it."