The Book of Aarav – Prologue

A few shrubs stood proud and still, resolute as the tall grasses danced in the sea’s night breeze. The wail of sirens rose across the land, drowning the breeze’s quiet murmur. A baby’s cry echoed from the dense, dark forest near the beach. A flickering light shone upon the dancing grasses at the forest’s edge as the cry grew louder. The grass parted to both sides as a figure forced her through it.

A tall, athletic woman carrying the baby emerged, crushing shrubs beneath her as she ran toward the shore. Twenty feet ahead, a canoe waited at the water’s edge. She unleashed a blast of energy from her core, propelling herself forward in a sudden burst of speed.

The woman’s breath came in sharp bursts, her heart pounding as the sirens wailed behind her. The ocean’s waves crashed rhythmically against the shore, a harsh counterpoint to the desperate urgency in her steps. The baby in her arms whimpered, clutching her blouse with tiny fingers.

She dropped the flickering torch beside the canoe and reached for its edge to push it into the water. Then, a voice—deep, familiar, and cold—stopped her in her tracks.

“Did you really think you could outpace me, Yodhi?”

Her hands froze on the canoe. Slowly, she turned, her arms tightening protectively around the baby.

“Where do you plan to go?” the voice continued. A tall man emerged from the shadows, the light casting harsh lines across his face. “Don’t you know that you and that demon you hold can never be safe from our grasp—anywhere on this planet?”

Yodhika straightened, stepping back from the canoe. She met his gaze with a defiant smirk. “You chose to follow me instead of leading your people out and subduing the Amrithya clan warriors?” she asked. “Aren’t you mixing your personal life with the professional, Dad?”

Devansh took another step forward, his tone unshaken. “Ashura will stay behind to deal with the Amrithya warriors. None of them will pass the Hanuman Gate. Your brothers have already led the Families to the escape ship. We know you and your traitor husband orchestrated all of this. Sabo captured Rudhra. And you—” he narrowed his eyes—“you won’t escape this land either.”

Her smirk faded. “You know you can’t beat me. So what’s your plan—stall me long enough for the land to sink and take us with it?”

“You think too highly of your skills, Yodhi,” he said darkly. “Now, I’ll show you where you truly lack.”

Suddenly, Devansh unleashed a massive wave of energy from his core. The blast surged forward, tearing through the air. Without hesitation, Yodhika summoned her own force. A radiant blast erupted from her, meeting her father’s attack head-on. The collision shook the shoreline, flinging sand and grass in all directions.

She didn’t wait to see the outcome. Darting toward the canoe, she gently placed the baby inside, shielding him from the chaos behind her. “Momwill be back in a minute, Aarav,” she whispered, brushing his cheek with her palm. The baby blinked at her, wide-eyed, but calm. As her touch lingered, his whimpers faded, and he stopped crying, his tiny chest rising and falling in quiet trust.

Yodhika stood up and strode toward her father, unfazed. From her back, she drew a short cylindrical rod which, with a press of a switch, extended on both ends into a gleaming spear.

“Oh, so you left your weapon at home, huh?” Devansh said with a smirk, activating his spear in response.

They approached each other calmly, the tide crashing behind them like a war drum.

Without warning, Devansh unleashed another energy wave, blasting it into the sand to kick up a blinding cloud. As it erupted toward Yodhika, he hurled his spear in tandem.

She closed her eyes, trusting instinct. With a swift motion, she dodged left and raised her spear to counter—only to realize Devansh had vanished.

In a split second, she dropped low and somersaulted to her left, just as Devansh lunged from behind with a deadly thrust.

He wasted no time. As Yodhika twisted mid-air, Devansh drew a knife and flung it straight at her. Yodhika had no other choice. With a cry of defiance, she unleashed a surge of energy, blasting both the oncoming force and her father away in a wave of blinding light. But as the dust settled, her heart sank—Devansh had positioned himself between her and the canoe. Between her and the baby.

She stepped forward—then faltered.

Knife found its destination as pain bloomed sharp and sudden in her abdomen. She gasped, staggering to her knees as her breath caught in her throat. The sky above began to shift—clouds curling in like dark ink on parchment, and the wind carried a chill laced with sea spray and memory.

Devansh advanced, calm and cold. “You’re not strong enough to sacrifice the child,” he said, voice edged with triumph. “That’s where we differ, Yodhi. You still believe in something. And now, you’ll both fall.”

With a rush of energy, he propelled himself into the air, the spear in hand, descending toward her like a shadow cast by a storm.

But Yodhika was ready.

She rolled forward, pulling the blade free and placing herself between her father and the canoe. With a surge from her core, she released a protective blast. Devansh met it with his own, the impact echoing across the shore as wind howled and sand erupted around them.

Her side throbbed. Blood seeped beneath her tunic, but still she stood—tired, hurt, unyielding.

Another blast came from Devansh.

She responded in kind, weaving a feint into her energy—a glint of metal hidden within. He caught it, barely, leaping to the side.

But even as he dodged, his eyes widened. Her spear arced through the stormy air behind him.

He shifted again, throwing energy to launch himself away. He landed, turning swiftly—

Too late.

A trident, Yodhika’s weapon pierced through his chest. He staggered, eyes wide, and turned toward her.

“So… you did bring your weapon,” he said, his voice weakening. “Foolish of me… to think otherwise.”

Yodhika approached, rain beginning to fall in soft patters on the sand. Lightning traced across the sky in silver threads.

“I told you,”, she said quietly, “you can’t stop me, Father.”

She stepped past him without pause, toward the canoe. Thunder cracked like an ancient drumbeat overhead, as if the heavens themselves responded.

Devansh’s voice came from behind, unsteady. “Aren’t you even going to shed a tear for your dying father?”

Yodhika didn’t turn.

“You know we’re not that kind of family,” she replied.

Still, as she reached the canoe and set her hand to it, a single tear traced its way down her cheek, lost in the rain.

With her free hand pressed to her side, she pushed the canoe into the water, the tide rising to meet her. The baby inside stirred but remained calm, as if soothed by her nearness—even in silence, even in storm.

As the waves pulled the boat gently into the open sea, the downpour fell harder, washing away the tracks in the sand—and the shadows of the past.

As Yodhika rowed the canoe into the open sea, a massive tidal wave surged toward her. She raised her hand, summoning the last reserves of her strength, and released a concentrated wave of energy that split the oncoming wall of water in two. The ocean heaved and roared around her, but the canoe pressed on, steady and defiant.

Behind her—miles away—the mountains and forests began to sing, not with melody, but with a crackling, thunderous sound. Trees splintered. Peaks crumbled. The land of her birth, her battles, and her blood was giving way to the sea.

Tears spilled silently down her cheek as the truth settled in her chest like stone—her homeland was sinking. Not just in body, but in history.

(To be continued)