Tamoraj, the ra-rajputri, had run away again. A low voice wavered in the grand room of Tamorajaya's king, Kalnarth. The already heavy air turned darker as he came from behind the curtains that were just minutes away from burning under the radiant dark aura Tamoraj owned.

"And what were the Shatagini's(demon soliders) doing?" he asked as his dark red orbs turned to the army general - the one who held the responsibility of making sure she didn't escape the dungeons.

She had been locked in cursed shackles of stone, but stone can't hold a storm.

The army general, one of the greatest demons himself, had failed. His eyes dropped as he knelt before Tamoraj, sweat beads lacing his forehead while a vein in his throat pulsed with the dark blood they all possessed.

"They were there... she knocked them out," he whispered.

The only sound that followed was his king's low breath, get out he said. The next second, he was gone - thrown out of the hall but alive. Relief spread across his face; today, he did not die.

Kalnarth turned to the open window of the palace. The view was of the magnificent beauty of Tamoraj - dragons flying among the clouds, and the Tamorajaya people living their lives as if it were the most natural thing. It was, after all, built on the ashes of a great loss and a decades-old war.

"Where did you go now?" Vareshani, he muttered, closing his eyes as annoyance ran through his face, jaw clenched. He knew what she could do. She was rarely a child among the demons - she was thousands of years old, but still a child infont of demons who live through eternity. But her mind ran sharp, and her power could beat the gods themselves if she wished. After all, controlling Agneya(fire dragon diety) and kshamaya (ice dragon diety) wasn't child's play. He himself had failed many times to tame the deity, and they managed it in a week - like it was just another game.

Meanwhile, a girl in a white silk saree wrapped around her body gracefully roamed the market - sharp eyes, a long braid, and black orbs like any human's, though they would turn red if she wasn't careful. With every step, her anklets chimed, announcing her presence to heaven itself, a demon among humans.

She had come here a hundred times before, though no one remembered. Not because they forgot, but because they had never truly seen her. Everytime a new face, a new personality, yet the same dark, demonic aura.

Vareshani or should I say, Vahini, she never bothered to know anyone, especially those who would die in the span of a few breaths she took. Her eyes moved across the shops. She loved the human trinkets, the spices, the clothes, the herbs, the homes, and their minds. It was all a play, a new target every time. But today was different. Today was a mission to kill someone who deserved to die.

Her heavy steps echoed through the narrow streets, her cold glare daring anyone to stop her. The air smelled of ghee and flowers, the scent pulling at her memory - reminding her why she still lived: to take revenge on every being that destroyed what she once loved.

And today, it was one of their turns.

Vahini was just about to step into the temple, but only if a certain someone let her live.

"Meowww."

A cat's voice called her out as a black cat appeared from thin air. His fur was as black as death itself, and his eyes could make a cosmic star die of jealousy.

A smirk curled on Vahini's lips as she looked down at Kaal.

"Missed me?" she asked.

Kaal nudged her leg, rubbing his tail against her. Demanding attention, as always.

So why are you here, to watch me play, or to play yourself? she asked in a low whisper as she scooped the diety up gracefully and walked into the temple.

Somewhere else in the temple, a young man knelt, head bowed, bare well built torso clearly showing the hardwork of decades, while the high priest poured water over him and chanted. "May the Lord show mercy and purge this world of demons, as you have done before," the priest intoned as he looked up at the man.

"You are our armour, Prince," the high priest declared, while another priest draped a wet silk cloth over Rivaan's shoulders. Rivaan straightened. The Lord himself had chosen him for the deeds that would clean the world of its darkness, the priest finished. Rivaan's jaw tightened. The chosen one - the weight of the title settled on his shoulders. He stood, the wet silk cooling against his skin. As water dripped from his hair his finger reached to his arm cuff as the cold metal provide a soothness through his palm.

"I shall fulfill my duty and serve the Lord," he said in a gruff voice. Broad-shouldered, tanned, brown-eyed, hair tied in half updo with a holy thread and the only jwellery he wears was the arm cuff someone speicall had given him. the girls of Samvritta swooned at the sight of him, even if he stood stained with his enemy's blood.

His only aim was to slay every demon the world harboured a vow laid on him before his birth. Rivaan Devrath Aaryvansh, returned from a mission, having just made the world a little quieter of demonic breath.

A little smirk ghosted his face as he faced the high priest. "How long must I stay? I could go there's someone I need to see." His voice was calm but edged; someone he adored more than his own life waited for him.

Before the high priest could answer, a dark, animalistic purr rolled through the grand hall. Panic rippled as the taste of ash seemed to fill tongues. Then the panther materialized - massive, silent, lethal. Only Rivaan did not flinch; he had seen and slain beasts enough to desensitize fear.

"Back off," Rivaan said, hand moving to his sword as he readyed himself.

"Sit," a soft, cutting voice ordered.

The panther - Kaal settled to the floor, eyes sharp and lethal, coiled like a spring.

"Who are you?" Rivaan demanded, blade pointed at her.

Vahini smirked. "Oh the great prince of Samvritta doesn't know me?" she said, her voice mocking aa stepping beside Kaal. Her human shape was devastatingly beautiful, a weapon she used well to lure men before she killed them.

"She is a demon princess, and that is her pet," muttered a young scholar of Samvritta, one who knew the lore.

Rivaan's gaze locked on her. He kept his sword ready, but she stood unthreatening - for now.

"Why are you here?" the high priest snapped, voice thick with barely concealed hatred.

Vahini's smirk widened. She savoured the insolence of these feathered fools - old men already half-buried in their graves daring to question her.

"I'm here to collect a little debt." She stepped forward; Rivaan mirrored her movement.

"We don't take debts from demons. Leave or I will kill you, Demon" Rivaan said coldly.

Kaal lunged for Rivaan. He reacted instinctively: a dodge, a swing but the next moment he found himself slammed against a wall. He had not moved; Vahini had. His sword hung in air useless, Kaal swing in air mid-leap. Confusion flared ,he had never seen speed or control like that. Then he saw her eyes: red, glowing, like boiling blood.

"God will punish you," the high priest began, chanting a protective prayer. In a blink, Vahini was at his throat. Her hand closed like iron around his throat, the priest gasped and clawed at air as blood drained from his face.

"Where are your royal manners?" she asked in a low, cold voice, glaring down at him. "That is how you treat a princess?"

"Finish this," she ordered Kaal, throwing the priest away. In seconds the floor was slick with a crimson thick liquid pool.

Rivaan watched, stunned. He could feel the hall's eyes on her, but Vahini only saw the priest - the one who had spread the word of Kaleini as a malignant vessel to those drunk on light they called God.

She stepped closer, voice a venomous whisper. "I shall disfigure you," she promised, circling like a predator. The priest trembled, chanting brokenly, sweat pearling on his scalp. A low, animal purr threaded through the hall, matching the beat of terrified hearts.

Before she could deliver the final cruelty, two arms wrapped around vahini and she was taken into thin air. Vahini vanished as suddenly as she had come.

"What just happened?" Rivaan asked, turning toward the others from Samvritta. Their faces mirrored the terror and confusion that rippled through the hall.

Die out of cruostiy bitches.....

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