Unveiling the Past
Sitara stood alone in the shadowed room, the Shadow Crown resting heavy on her brow. The weight of it wasn't just physical. It was the weight of her mother's sins, the weight of the prophecy, and the weight of a fate that she hadn't chosen. The dark magic surged within her, an unrelenting force, just as it had consumed her mother.
As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, she felt something shift — a crack in the armor.
"You look like a queen," she whispered to the glass. "But I feel like a grave."
The power had changed her, twisted her, but she could still feel fragments of the girl she used to be. The love she once shared with Vivaan — the hope for a better future — seemed so far away now. And though the crown gave her power, it was also pulling her further into darkness.
"Is this truly my destiny?" The thought lingered like a shadow, cold and unrelenting.
Her reflection didn't blink. It only stared back — haunted, hollow.
"Tell me," she murmured to no one, "at what point did I become her? Was it when I put on the crown… or when I stopped fighting it?"
Vivaan's Truth — The Fire of Fate
Vivaan stood in the garden, his magic flaring violently around him, the flames reflecting his inner turmoil. The fire that had always been his strength now felt uncontrollable — like an extension of the chaos in his heart.
"You were the reason I believed in destiny," he said aloud, pacing. "Now you're the reason I fear it."
He had seen Sitara in his visions, wearing the crown — not as a queen he could love, but as a ruler he feared. The darkness that clung to her was suffocating, and yet, he could not turn away.
"I would burn the world to bring you back," he whispered, fists clenched. "But I don't know if there's anything left to save."
The pain was unbearable, but also something else — a fierce, unwavering determination.
"I'll fight fate," he growled. "Even if I have to fight you to do it."
The Maharani's Relief
In the quiet, the Maharani stood alone, watching her daughter and Vivaan from afar. Relief swept through her — years of guilt and guarded secrets finally loosening their grip.
"There comes a day when even the puppeteer must cut the strings."
Her heart ached as she watched her daughter, knowing Sitara was not the girl she had once hoped for — but someone stronger, and far more dangerous.
"I tried to protect you from what I became," she whispered to the wind. "And in doing so… I made you worse."
Tears slipped down her cheeks, silent and unbidden.
"Control is the gentlest kind of cage — and the hardest to see."
"I failed you, my daughter," she said, voice breaking. "But I pray you'll succeed where I could not."
A Dangerous Peace
In the stillness of the room, Sitara and Vivaan stood facing one another, the distance between them almost palpable.
"You're standing right in front of me," Vivaan said, voice low. "And yet… I've never felt farther from you."
Sitara lowered her gaze, voice barely a breath. "I've changed, Vivaan. I can't go back."
"Back to what?" he snapped. "To love? To us?"
She flinched. "To who I was. She's gone."
Vivaan's voice cracked. "No. She's buried. There's a difference. And I'll dig through every shadow to find her."
She looked at him then, the crown gleaming like obsidian on her brow.
"The power's in me now. It's not a choice anymore. It's survival."
"Then let me survive with you," he said fiercely. "Don't shut me out."
She hesitated, tears brimming.
"Power reveals who we are, not who we were," she said.
"Then show me who you are now," he begged. "Not the queen. Not the prophecy. Just… Sitara."
The Burden of Truth — Relief and Release
The air hung heavy, crackling with everything left unsaid. Sitara's fingers curled around the edge of the window sill, knuckles white.
"All my life, I believed the crown would give me strength," she murmured. "But it just made me… hollow."
Vivaan stepped closer, voice softer now. "I know that look. I've worn it too."
"I thought I had to carry this alone," she whispered, her voice breaking. "But I don't."
"We never had to carry this alone," Vivaan said, touching her arm. "Not before. Not now."
She turned to him fully then, her eyes no longer distant but searching.
"Do you really think we can change it?" she asked. "The prophecy, the path, the future?"
"I think we have to," he said. "Because if we don't… then what was the point of any of this?"
A long silence. Then, quietly:
"Hope is a dangerous thing to give a girl like me," she said.
"Then let me be reckless," Vivaan replied. "Let me give it anyway."
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Sitara allowed herself to lean in — just slightly — into that fragile, flickering light.