Chapter 1 - Prologue and Awakening
To the west of the Vastara Kingdom, beside the dark expanse of Lake Kataki, the night stretched endlessly, like a wound that refused to close.
The town clung to the lake's edge—a scattering of wooden huts, their walls faded with time, their silhouettes swallowed by the unnatural black. No lanterns burned. No doors creaked. No signs of life stirred in the mist-thick air. The clouds overhead pressed close, smothering the moon's pale glow. Not even starlight pierced the gloom.
Behind the town, the forest loomed—dark, silent, ancient. Before it, the lake whispered in slow, secret ripples against the stones.
It was here, emerging from the shrouded treeline, that two figures stumbled into view, breathless and worn. Their boots crunched wet soil as they pushed forward, shadows among shadows.
Vinay led, his chest heaving, hand resting on the hilt of his blade as if expecting another ambush.
"I think we lost them, Vinay," the second man gasped behind him, wiping sweat from his brow. His voice trembled—part relief, part residual fear.
Vinay slowed, nodding once, though his eyes didn't stop scanning the village ahead. "Yes," he replied, his voice low, gravel-throated from exhaustion. "They won't find us here."
Before them, the abandoned village spread out in eerie silence. Dilapidated homes slouched like drunkards in the fog. Windows were either broken or shuttered tight. Doorways yawned open like mouths waiting to swallow intruders whole.
"We should hide here," Vinay said, eyeing the clustered darkness. "It's too large for them to search completely. They won't find us in time."
Vijay hesitated. His gaze lingered on the empty village—too empty. "Agreed," he said finally, though unease clouded his tone. "Let's find shelter."
Their footsteps squelched softly as they crossed the thick, wet earth. Every creak from an unseen beam, every sigh of wind through the hollow structures set their nerves on edge.
Then—a house caught Vijay's eye. Larger than the rest, once stately, now forlorn. A grand wooden frame, ornate and alien among the ruins. Though time had stripped it of splendor, something about it still suggested forgotten power.
"That one," Vijay said, pointing to it. "It should do."
Vinay nodded. "It's as good as any."
They passed through a rusted iron gate that groaned under their touch, the once-manicured garden now a skeletal tangle. The door to the manor leaned half open, its hinges protesting in a drawn-out groan as they entered.
The stench hit immediately—mold, rot, something deeper. A damp, cloying thickness that clung to the throat.
Inside, the wooden floor creaked underfoot, fragile with decay. Cobwebs clung to doorframes like torn veils. The air was still—too still.
Vinay's lamp flickered weakly as he stepped forward. Something cold brushed against his foot.
He froze.
Slowly, he crouched, bringing the lamp low. The light wavered—and caught.
There, nestled in dust and shadows, lay the severed head of a child.
Its empty sockets stared blindly ahead, eyes gouged clean, teeth shattered into jagged ruins. A stretch of spine clung to it, trailing like a grotesque root still refusing death.
A breath caught in his throat.
He stumbled backward.
Vijay stepped closer, face draining of color. "What in the gods' name…" he whispered.
Vinay's voice came tight, shaken. "Asuras," he said.
"They've always done such merciless killings," Vijay murmured.
Vinay shook his head, blinking hard. "But the Asuras are gone. King Vis Nali saw to their execution a century ago."
Vijay's eyes flicked around the room, his voice low and trembling. "Haven't you heard the rumors? The ones that say people have been spotted worshipping demons in the kingdom, performing dark rituals?" He swallowed. "And… Asuras… they are said to be immortal."
"No." Vinay's voice was firmer now, the weight of old knowledge behind it. "Asuras aren't immortal. They need to sacrifice a hundred lives and offer their heart to their demon to gain immortality. They can be killed, just like any other."
Vijay didn't look convinced. "But who else could kill like this?"
"We need to report this to King Dacra Hindr," Vinay said, trying to steady himself. "This... this is too much."
Then—a thud.
Deep within the manor.
Both men froze. Swords drawn in a heartbeat, they crept forward. The hall narrowed, shadows clinging to the walls like soot. Every step echoed in tense beats.
Vinay entered the next room first. At first glance—nothing. A shell of decaying wood and silence.
Then, from the corner—a blur of motion.
A wiry man sprang from the shadows, axe raised. Vinay twisted aside just in time. The blade whistled past.
Vijay rushed in, sword arcing in a clean, deliberate motion. It struck the man across the neck—not a killing blow, but enough. He crumpled to the ground, groaning.
Then—a sound tore from his throat.
A scream. Inhuman. Shrieking with layered voices, not one but many.
The walls shook.
And then—they emerged.
Figures from the dark, cloaked and chanting. Their numbers surrounded the two men before they could react. A blow struck Vinay's temple, and the world tilted into blackness.
When Vinay awoke, pain roared in his limbs—then he realized. He couldn't move. Couldn't speak.
His wrists: severed. His tongue: gone.
Beside him, Vijay trembled, bound in equal suffering.
In the distance, a voice boomed, a deep, guttural shout that sent chills down their spines. The chanting ceased.
Around them, robed figures chanted in a guttural tongue, their faces hidden beneath hoods stitched with inverted runes. Torchlight licked the walls of a cavern, its ceiling studded with stalactites that dripped crimson onto a stone altar.
A man stepped forward—Vastarr Giri. His voice slithered through the chamber, oily and reverent. "A gift, my lord! Flesh for the pact!" He bowed toward the cave's maw, where shadows writhed as if alive.
Silence.
Then a thump. A severed head rolled into the firelight—an old woman's, her scalp peeled to reveal yellowed bone, spine trailing behind her like a serpent's tail. The cultists dropped to their knees as a figure emerged from the dark.
He moved wrong.
Limbs too long, joints bending backward, his ivory skin stretched taut over a skeletal frame. Where eyes should have been, twin embers glowed, their light pooling in the hollows of his cheeks. His spine jutted from his back, a twisted, blood-smeared tail that scraped the stone floor. He knelt beside Vinay, taloned fingers tracing the man's jugular. A forked tongue flicked out, tasting his fear.
"The name…" the creature rasped, its voice a chorus of flies buzzing in rot. Vastarr scurried forward, ears pressed to lipless jaws. When the demon spoke again, Vastarr's face split into a grin. "I know it!" he shrieked. "The name!"
The cult erupted into applause, their claps out of rhythm, too loud, too sharp.
The demon rose, dragging Vinay and Vijay by their hair. Their muffled screams echoed as the cave swallowed them.
Then—silence.
Two heads tumbled back into the chamber. Eyes seared. Tongues missing. Spines glistening.
The demon's tail coiled around them, tender as a lover's embrace.
Aboveground, far to the east, the first rays of dawn broke over the Vastara Kingdom. The same sun that gilded the palace spires also illuminated the freshly dug pit where Vinay and Vijay's headless bodies were dumped—just two more nameless casualties in a land already drowning in secrets.
By midday, the kingdom's banners had been unfurled: gold and crimson, embroidered with the royal crest—a serpent coiled around a lotus.
The Vastara Kingdom pulsed with excitement. Banners snapped in the breeze, music spilled from open windows, and the very air seemed charged with anticipation. It was the day of the grand fair, and whispers followed the throngs of people: "Have you heard? The bride… they say her beauty is unmatched!" "Imagine the radiance of our new Queen!"
Inside the Royal Palace, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. Ministers in rich silks, commoners granted rare access, and honored guests from allied lands filled the grand hall, their faces alight with expectation. A hush fell as King Dacrahindr entered, his bearing regal and composed, taking his place at the ceremonial dais. Then, she appeared. Rei Snan, soon to be Rei Hindr. Adorned in breathtaking traditional attire, gold thread shimmering against deep crimson fabric, she seemed to float towards him. "A goddess," someone murmured, and a ripple of agreement went through the crowd.
He took his place beside her. The mingled scents of jasmine and sandalwood filled the air as the priest began the ancient rites. His voice resonated through the hall: "Do you, King Dacrahindr, and you, Rei Snan, accept each other, heart and soul, as partners for this life, and all those to come?"
They turned, their gazes locking, a silent vow passing between them before they spoke in unison, their voices clear and unwavering. "Yes. We accept each other, for this life, and beyond."
And so, they were bound. King Dacrahindr and Queen Rei Hindr. Their union cemented a long-standing alliance. The Snan family, their lineage ancient and respected, had once financed Dacrahindr's crucial campaigns, their wealth securing the loyalty of an army when his own coffers were depleted. Ties of blood and battle ran deep; their grandfathers had fought side-by-side against common enemies decades before.
Later that night, the palace settled into a hushed quiet. King Dacrahindr entered their private bedchamber. Rei sat on the edge of the large, ornate bed, her face shadowed by the delicate fabric of her saree's pallu. He sat beside her, the mattress giving slightly under his weight. Gently, he reached out and lifted the veil. Her dark, luminous eyes met his.
"I have always loved you, Rei," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You were the only thing I ever truly desired. Ruling… it chafes. I do it because you wished it."
A soft smile touched her lips. "And I have loved you since the moment I first saw you, my King. I always envisioned you on that throne."
Hesitation dissolved. Their intimacy, held back by duty and propriety, bloomed in the privacy of the chamber. Their lips met, tentative at first, then deepening with a growing urgency. Clothes became obstacles, shed in a tangle of silk and limbs, revealing skin flushed with desire. As Dacrahindr lowered his head, kissing the curve of her neck, her breath hitched. She shifted, her voice a low murmur against his ear.
"They say your mother… never truly nursed you," she began, the words startlingly intimate. "But it doesn't matter. I am yours now."
Dacrahindr paused, pulling back slightly, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "How… how do you know that?"
Rei's gaze flickered, a momentary coolness in its depths. "A palace servant mentioned it once, long ago."
His eyes darkened instantly, affection replaced by a sudden, chilling fury. An old wound, unexpectedly touched. "Never," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, "speak of her again. She was nothing. A shadow. I curse the day I drew breath from her."
The sudden venom hung between them, thick and poisonous. Silence stretched, heavy and charged. But the potent energy of the night, the raw need that had drawn them together, soon overwhelmed the flash of anger. Passion surged back, fierce and untamed. They came together then, not as King and Queen, but as two souls driven by instinct and a complex knot of love, pain, and unspoken desires – unknowingly planting the seed of a turbulent future.
Months passed. Queen Rei stood by a tall, arched window in her chambers, her hand resting protectively on the swell of her belly. Below, in the sun-drenched training yard, King Dacrahindr sparred with his guards, his movements fluid and powerful. She watched him, a soft smile gracing her lips, the promise of their child a growing warmth within her.
End Chapter One