✧| Prologue |✧

9 years ago

"I wonder if I was born from the cracks in something much older, something that still watches from the dark."

13 year old, Samiksha mumbled almost to herself, lost in thoughts. Maybe annoyed or thinking about- somethings....

The school courtyard was bathed in the golden afternoon light as the sun hung lazily above the school courtyard, the chatter of students blending into a soft hum. Beneath the banyan tree, the 13-year-old Samiksha and bestie; Arya sat cross-legged on the dry grass, their school bags tossed carelessly to the side.

A group of students chatted animatedly, the hum of their voices blending with the distant sound of a ball being kicked in the playground. The air was thick with the scent of fresh grass and the subtle murmur of teenage gossip.

Arya tossed a bag of chips between them, the crisp sounds of opening the bag echoing in the quiet space they'd carved out for themselves.

"I mean, come on, Sam," Arya said, gesturing dramatically toward a group of boys playing football nearby. "If I ever date someone, it's definitely not going to be one of them. And if I did, with any of those so-called 'handsome' boys from our school, I swear I'll puke." She waved her hand dramatically, as if the very sight of them was making her gag.

Samiksha chuckled, her lips curling in amusement. "I get what you mean," she replied. "No offense, but most of the boys at our school look like boiled frogs."

Arya burst out laughing, clutching her mouth as if she might burst. "Boiled frogs? Sam, you're savage. But tell me I'm wrong. Ashay looks like a frog who got caught in the middle of metamorphosis."

"Right?" Samiksha agreed, her voice laced with mock seriousness.

Arya smirked, unbothered by the teasing. "I'm just saying, I've got standards, okay? I want someone who's not... what's the word? Basic. Definitely someone who doesn't spend half his life quoting memes or obsessing over his biceps."

"Fair enough," Samiksha replied, still grinning. "So, what kind of guy would make the cut for you?"

Arya leaned back on her hands, tilting her face toward the sun as if deep in thought. "Someone who's fun but not a total idiot. Smart, but not the kind who'll bore me to death talking about calculus. Someone confident, but not arrogant. You know, and the one who would do some or- anything for me. Is that too much to ask?"

Samiksha raised an eyebrow. "I don't know why but sounds like a unicorn, honestly."

Arya laughed. "Well, it's not my fault the bar's high. Anyway, what about you? What's your type, Sam?"

Samiksha hesitated, caught off guard by the question. She looked away, fidgeting with a blade of grass. "I don't know if I have a 'type-'."

"Oh, come on!" Arya said, nudging her shoulder. "You must've thought about it. What kind of guy would you actually like?"

Samiksha opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, Arya snapped her fingers. "Wait, let me guess! He has to be tall, cool, Bad-boy maybe a little Morally grey? Or are you into the bookish, soft-spoken type?"

"Neither," Samiksha said, shaking her head. "Honestly, I've never thought about it like that. But I guess... I'd want someone who gets me. Like, really understands me."

Arya gave her a skeptical look. "Understands you... That's actually pretty deep for someone who roasts everyone like they're on fire. But, really? Never? Not even a crush on some random cartoon character as a kid?"

Samiksha let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "No, Arya. To be honest, I've kind of... given that part of my life to Krishna."

Arya blinked, tilting her head. "To Krishna?"

"Yeah," Samiksha said, her voice steady and calm. "I've just decided not to stress about it. If there's someone out there who's meant to be with me, my soulmate, then God will make it happen when the time is right."

Arya squinted at her, skepticism creeping into her expression. "So you're saying you're leaving your love life all up to God?"

"Exactly," Samiksha replied, her lips curving into a soft subtle smile.

Arya stared at her, a mix of admiration and disbelief flashing in her eyes. "You're something else, Sam. Most people our age are freaking out about crushes and relationships, and here you are, just... chilling."

Samiksha smirked. "Just gonna go with the flow about this one..."

Just then Arya's gaze drifted across the courtyard. "Wait... are Yashasvi and Ishan dating?"

Samiksha followed her gaze before immediately rolling her eyes. "No. They're just best friends."

"Really?", Arya pressed in.

"Why does everyone think that at this age a girl and a boy can't just be friends?" Samiksha said. "Look at us. Nakul and Dheer are our best friends too."

Arya shrugged. "True. When we were kids we used to play with everyone. Boys, girls... nobody cared."

Samiksha nodded thoughtfully.

"Yeah. And then everyone grows up... and suddenly friendships become something else." Arya stretched lazily.

"You know what's funny though?" she added. "I had so many boy best friends when I was little. I don't even remember most of them now."

Samiksha laughed. "Same."

"Who knows," Arya grinned mischievously, "maybe some of them are incredibly handsome now."

Samiksha rolled her eyes. But Arya's words stirred something faint in her memory. She stared at Arya, her mind suddenly flipping through a reel of memories from her childhood. The blur edged memory.

A small fragment of the past. "...Actually," Samiksha said slowly, "I do remember one."

Arya instantly turned toward her. "Oh?"

"It was years ago," Samiksha continued. "I was maybe six or seven. My parents took me to some event or function... I don't even remember where."

The world around Samiksha seemed to blur as memories flooded her mind.

7 years ago

The ballroom did not simply exist, it loomed, as if it had been carved out of some forgotten dream and placed gently into reality.

The first thing anyone noticed was the height. The ballroom rose like a cathedral of gold and shadow, vast enough to make every voice instinctively fall into a whisper.

Towering pillars stretched upward into an intricate ceiling where chandeliers hung like captured constellations, their crystal strands scattering soft, trembling light through the air. The polished black marble floor reflected everything, the lights, the towering arches, and the silent figures gathered across the hall, like a dark, unmoving lake.

People stood scattered across the immense space, dressed in dark silks and formal attire, their voices kept low, as though the room itself demanded restraint. Conversations drifted like whispers in a cathedral, swallowed by the sheer scale of the hall before they could rise above a murmur.

Despite the brilliance, a strange stillness lingered beneath the glow of chandeliers, an unspoken weight in the air, Six-year-old Samiksha stood beside her parents, small and motionless among the towering adults. Her hands rested loosely behind her back, her gaze unfocused as the host continued his long speech about business triumphs and future ventures. Applause rippled through the hall now and then, but to her it sounded distant, almost muffled, like waves crashing far away.

She had long since drifted into her own thoughts. That was when another family joined them.

Her father greeted the man warmly, the easy familiarity of old friendship in their voices. The man's wife stood beside him, elegant and composed, while their two sons threw tantrums and fidgeted restlessly at their sides.

The boys looked around the hall with open impatience. "Can we go?" one of them whispered loudly. "We're bored," the other added with a dramatic sigh.

Their parents tried to quiet them, but the boys' restlessness only grew louder. Eventually, with a tired smile, the adults relented.

"Alright," the man said, glancing toward Samiksha's parents. "Let them walk around a little. Just not too far."

Her parents nodded in agreement. "Go with them," her mother told her. Samiksha obeyed without protest.

The boys introduced themselves quickly. As, "Veer and Raj."

Their voices were lively, brimming with the impatient energy of children eager to escape adult gatherings.

"Samiksha," she replied politely. The three of them wandered toward the dining hall.

Veer and Raj immediately began running around, grabbing sweets from trays and laughing loudly as they darted between tables. Their excitement echoed through the spacious hall. But Samiksha did not join them.

She had been bored since the beginning of the evening, and their chaos only made her feel more detached.

Instead, her attention drifted elsewhere.

The mansion itself was extraordinary. Tall carved pillars rose toward ceilings where crystal chandeliers hung like frozen constellations, their light scattering across polished marble floors. Intricate patterns ran along the walls, glowing softly under the golden lamps.

She walked slowly, quietly observing it all. For a moment, she forgot the noise around her.

Then something beyond the tall glass windows caught her eye. A pale sliver of light, the moon.

Only a corner of it was visible from inside the hall, half hidden by the stone arches outside.

Curiosity stirred within her, she wanted to see it properly. So she moved toward the doors and stepped outside the mansion. The night air greeted her gently.

The wide staircase flows downward in long, elegant tiers. A deep red carpet runs through its center like a ceremonial river, bordered by rows of glowing lanterns that cast warm light upon the pale marble steps. The staircase descends into a serene, quiet stone path, though the memory of it felt softened, as if time itself had brushed over the edges.

Beyond it, an archway of pale stone rose gracefully over the pathway.

Its pillars were wrapped in blooming vines where pale Nagkesar (Ceylon ironwood) and deep pink Ashoka flowers clung to the structure, as though nature itself had slowly claimed the mansion's grand grounds. Little Samiksha walked beneath it with quiet curiosity, her small footsteps slow and unhurried as she gazed every corner. Observing and grasping every feeling, smell and view.

The flowers, the scent in the air. The gentle rustling of leaves stirred by the night wind.

Beyond the arch, the path stretched forward beneath a natural tunnel of greenery. Branches curved overhead like silent guardians while flowers hung in delicate clusters, watching the narrow walkway below.

Moonlight slipped through the leaves in scattered fragments.

Silver and shadow danced across the stone path as she moved forward, her young eyes absorbing everything with quiet fascination.

The further she walked, the quieter the world seemed to become. The distant sounds of the gathering faded until they were nothing more than a faint echo behind her.

The air here felt... different, but not uncomfortable. The path curved gently deeper into the gardens, disappearing briefly behind walls of shadowed trees. And somewhere beyond that bend, the scenery unfolded into something that felt strangely unreal.

A pavilion stood hidden among towering trees.

Its domed roof rose gracefully above carved arches and slender pillars, touched softly by the silver glow of the moon. Lanterns burned along its steps, their warm light trembling upon the surface of a narrow stream that curved through the garden like a ribbon of glass.

Small bridges crossed the water, leading toward the pavilion's quiet entrance.

But Samiksha barely noticed the structure itself.

Something else had caught her attention, the stream. She moved closer to its edge, peering into the clear water.

Fish glided silently beneath the surface. They were unlike anything she had ever seen before. Their slender bodies moved with strange elegance, and their vibrant fan shaped tails shimmered in the lantern light.

The tails spread behind them like delicate feathers, like the peacock feather.

Colors flickered through them, iridescent shades that shifted between blue, green, and gold as they swam through the water. Though she did not know their name then, they were spottail needlefish, their luminous tails the reason her young gaze followed them so intently.

She crouched slightly, watching them move through the moonlit stream.

The water barely stirred, the trees whispered softly above. And for a moment, everything seemed suspended between dream and reality.

Then she leaned a little closer to the water, curiosity glowing in her young eyes. Slowly, carefully, little Samiksha lowered herself onto her knees near the edge of the stream. The fish glided beneath the surface like living streaks of color, their feathered tails shimmering with every movement.

Mesmerized, she leaned forward. Her small hand hovered just above the water.

A calm voice suddenly broke the silence. "Careful."

The word was quiet, yet carried a sharp certainty. "It might be deeper than it looks... especially for you."

Samiksha turned instinctively toward the sound. Across the stream, beneath the lantern glow of the marbel bench inside the pavilion a boy sat alone.

He looked much older than her, perhaps in his early teens. Fourteen, maybe. Yet something about him felt strangely different, the way he carried himself that did not belong to someone his age.

Yet Samiksha was far too innocent to notice such things.

She simply gave him a small smile and nodded obediently before pulling her hand away from the water.

The boy returned his attention to the book for a moment, but only for a moment.

A few seconds later, his gaze lifted again, scanning the quiet garden. And then he noticed something, The child was alone.

His eyes settled briefly on her small figure crouched beside the stream, still fascinated by the fish. He closed the book. "Come here," he called calmly.

Samiksha rose without question and walked toward him, her steps light against the stone.

When she reached the pavilion steps, he looked down at her. "Where are your parents?"

"In the mansion," she replied brightly. "Listening to the speech that sir is giving."

The boy glanced toward the distant lights of the mansion, his expression thoughtful.

She followed his gaze. She tilted her head slightly, "What happened?" she asked curiously.

"You should go back to them," he said simply, There was no scolding in his tone, only certainty.

Then after a pause, he asked her in a slightly softened tone,"What is your name?"

"Samiksha," she replied without hesitation. For a brief moment, the stillness around him seemed to change.

"... Samiksha Sawant," she added proudly.

That faint shift deepened. His gaze held hers for a fraction deeper than before he looked away briefly, his gaze drifting toward the trees as if gathering a thought he chose not to speak.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Six!" she said eagerly. "But next month I'm turning seven."

He gave a small nod. A quiet, acknowledging gesture.

Then he stood up and in that moment, the difference between them became obvious. She barely reached his waist. "I'll take you back," he said. There was no explanation, just a calm instruction, just a decision already made.

He turned and began walking along the garden path, clearly expecting her to follow.

She did, but instead of trailing behind him like he had assumed, her small hand suddenly reached forward, slipped into his hand and her little fingers wrapped around it.

For a briefest split second he stilled, then continued walking.

The garden stretched quietly around them as they moved. Lantern light flickered softly against the stone path, the moon casting silver fragments through the leaves above.

Neither of them spoke for a moment as they moved through the moonlit garden.

Samiksha, however, was not someone who remained quiet for long. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Vikram." Nothing more. Silence followed again.

She tilted her head, again injecting a question. "How old are you?"

"Fourteen." Again, a short reply by Vikram.

She thought for a moment before speaking again. "So you're older than me... but not very old," she said thoughtfully. "Then what should I call you?"

She began, "Bhaiya-" only to get halted mid-word, by him.

"Just Vikram." His tone wasn't harsh. But firmly enough that she didn't try again.

Samiksha blinked before nodding. "Okay."

A few steps later, she slowed and pointed ahead confidently. "I can go back from here myself."

Vikram stopped walking. Before them, two identical paths stretched ahead beneath pale stone archways wrapped in flowering vines. He glanced down at her. "Which one?" he asked.

She studied them with serious concentration. Then pointed to the right. "That one."

He looked at the path, then back at her. "That doesn't lead to the mansion."

She scrunched her nose instantly in embarrassment, yet it was an adorable gesture, "Oh, my bad!"

Without another word, he turned and continued down the other path.

As they walked again, Samiksha glanced up at him. Her gaze slowly drifted toward his eyes and lingered.

Moonlight slipped through the leaves above them, falling across his face. And for a moment, his eyes caught the light and they gleamed. She stared openly.

"What is it?" he asked without even looking at her.

"Your eyes," she said softly. "they are golden, but weird, very abnormal, but beautiful, yet like an alien."

He finally glanced down at her briefly, "They're amber." he said calmly

She gasped quietly. "They're really pretty," she said with complete sincerity. "They look like gems... like they can be put into rings."

He again turned to look forward as they walked, but this time for a fleeting second something softened at the edge of his expression. A hint of slight smile playing at the corner of his lips. But it vanished almost immediately. He continued walking with the same composed expression.

"Why are you so quiet?" she asked a moment later. "You act like grumpy old people." A pause, then suddenly, her attention shifted again.

"Your name is Vikram," she said. "Like the story. Vikram and Betaal. Do you know it?"

"Yes." He replied.

They had reached the mansion by then. Light spilled from the tall windows into the garden.

As they stepped inside, "Where are your parents?" he asked.

Samiksha scanned the crowd inside the ballroom. "There!", she pointed eagerly.

Vikram released her hand, so she could withdraw hers.

Samiksha took a few steps forward before suddenly stopping, turning back, she smiled brightly. "Thank you for bringing me back." Then she added with complete innocence smile, "I really like your eyes, Vikram."

And just like that, she ran into the crowd. Her parents turned to her immediately. "Where did you go?"

She pointed back toward the garden entrance. "He brought me back." But when she turned to show them, there was no one there. The doorway stood empty. No trace of him. As if he had never been there at all.

━┈┈•⋆✧ Flashback Ended ✧⋆•┈┈━

Arya listened with an expression that shifted somewhere between amusement and curiosity, her chin resting lazily against her palm. "And then he just disappeared?" she asked, a grin already forming.

Samiksha rolled her eyes lightly.

"Obviously. What else do you want? A dramatic re-entry?"

Arya let out a soft laugh, nudging her shoulder. "You were six and already collecting mysterious boys in gardens. Impressive."

"Oh, please," Samiksha scoffed, though the corner of her lips betrayed her. "I was trying to touch fishes."

"And instead found him." Arya tilted her head, studying her now.

Then she smiled, slower this time. "But you know what, Sam?" There was something quieter beneath her tone now. "I'm actually a little jealous."

Samiksha raised a brow. "Of what?"

Arya shrugged, leaning back casually. "You talk about it like it's nothing." A pause. "Like it didn't... mean anything." Her gaze lingered for a second longer than necessary. "You're either very calm..." she added softly "or very good at pretending you are."

Samiksha didn't respond, then giving Arya a chaotic saide eye, she laughed, effortless. "Trust me," samiksha said, shaking her head, "it was just a random childhood memory. Nothing more."

Arya giggled along with her, the moment passed, or atleast it appeared to.