The Son of Mayapuri
The silence in the cavern was thicker and heavier than the darkness itself. The revelation hung in the air, a tangible thing. Alok, the steadfast, ever-silent guardian of Prince Devansh, was a son of the very cursed land they sought to conquer.
Devansh was the first to break the silence, his voice a soft, disbelieving whisper. "Aalok... what are you saying?"
Aaditya's hand had instinctively gone to the hilt of Bhavani, his warrior's caution flaring. Nihar took a half-step forward, positioning himself subtly between Alok and the two princes, his expression a storm of betrayal and confusion.
Alok met their gazes, his own filled not with defiance, but with a profound, weary sorrow. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.
"Please," he said, his voice regaining its familiar calm, but now layered with a pain they had never heard before. "Let me explain. I am not your enemy. I never was."
He took a deep breath, as if steadying himself to open a long-sealed vault of memory.
"I was born here, in Mayapuri. But it was not always this... blighted place. Once, it was just a kingdom, like any other, with its own struggles and its own beauty." A faint, ghost of a smile touched his lips. "My parents... they were simple people. My mother, her name was Tarini, she had a laugh that could make the flowers bloom. My father, Arjun, was a carpenter, but his true calling was something else. He was a practitioner of the old ways—the good magic, the Saatvik Jadu that healed and protected."
He looked at his own hands, as if seeing them for the first time. "They taught me a little, when I was very young. How to feel the energy in a plant, how to calm a frightened animal with a touch. It was a happy life."
Then, the light in his eyes dimmed. "But things changed. A new Raja rose to power, obsessed with a darker, more aggressive form of Tantra. He sought power to dominate, not to nurture. The land began to sicken. The skies grew perpetually grey. My parents... they resisted. They used their knowledge to help those the Raja's dark magic had harmed."
His voice dropped to a haunted whisper. "One night, men came for them. The Raja's soldiers. They accused my father of using 'forbidden arts' against the throne. There was no trial. I was hiding in a small cabinet, my mother's hand clamped over my mouth. I saw them... I saw them drag my parents away. That was the last time I ever saw them."
The pain on his face was raw and real. "I was seven years old. I was found later, half-dead from fear and hunger, by my maternal uncle, my chacha. He was a good man, but he was terrified. He blamed their knowledge of magic for their fate. He forbade me from ever speaking of it, from ever practicing it again. He said it was a curse. He took me in, raised me as his own. The only thing I had left of my parents was this." He reached into his tunic and pulled out a simple, worn leather cord with a small, smooth, grey stone hanging from it. "A protective talisman my mother gave me just before... just before they were taken."
He looked up, his gaze sweeping over them. "My chacha died three years ago. With him gone, and with the memory of my parents' fate, I wanted nothing more to do with this place. I left. I traveled to Chandrapuri. I had no family, no name. I used the basic combat skills my chacha had taught me to join the royal guard. I worked hard. I wanted a simple life, a life of duty and honor, far away from the shadows of my past. I wanted to protect, not to practice magic that got people killed. I became Aalok, the guard. I buried the boy from Mayapuri deep, deep down."
Aaditya, his initial suspicion giving way to a dawning understanding, finally spoke. "Then how did you cross the shadow gate so easily? Nihar and I... we saw illusions. Our pasts."
Alok nodded. "The guardian of the shadow gate... it is not a monster. It is a sentient reflection of the land's own pain. It knows the heart of every being that approaches it. It shows outsiders their deepest traumas, their greatest fears, to test their will, to see if their spirit is strong enough to bear the darkness within Mayapuri. If you are strong enough to face your own shadows, you are deemed strong enough to face the ones here."
He looked at Aaditya and Devansh with a new respect. "You two... you faced celestial curses and a love that defied the gods. Your will is iron." His gaze then shifted to Nihar, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "And you... your greatest fear is failing in your duty to your prince. Your loyalty is your strength."
Nihar looked away, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
"But for those of us born of Mayapuri," Alok continued, "the gate is different. It recognizes the echo of our own land in our souls. It does not test us with illusions because we already carry the trauma of this place within us. It simply... lets us pass. And if a native is with an outsider, their presence can act as a shield, a familiar key that makes the passage less violent for their companion."
The pieces fell into place. Alok's quiet competence, his almost preternatural awareness, his unwavering calm in the face of the supernatural. He hadn't just been a skilled soldier; he had been a child of this magic-steeped land, hiding in plain sight.
Devansh stepped forward, placing a hand on Alok's shoulder. "You have protected me with your life, Aalok. Your past does not change that. It only makes your loyalty more profound."
Aaditya gave a curt, decisive nod. "He's right. You are one of us. And right now, your knowledge of this place is our greatest weapon." He looked towards the dark passage ahead. "So, guide us, Son of Mayapuri. Where do we find the antidote?"
Alok's posture straightened, the burden of his secret seeming to lift. The boy from Mayapuri and the guard of Chandrapuri were now one. He pointed into the consuming darkness ahead.
"The heart of this corruption is the Raja's palace. The Kaltatva was created there. If an antidote exists, that is where it will be. But be warned," his voice turned grim, "the guardian of the gate was just the sentry. What lies ahead... the Raja's personal guards, his dark tantrics... they are the true army. And they will not test your spirit. They will only seek to end your life."
The four of them—the Prince of the Sun, the Prince of the Moon, and their two guardians, one from the mountains and one from the shadows—stood united at the precipice. The path to salvation for their kingdoms led through the very heart of damnation.