A girl with the grace of beauty but deep inside her heart holds the untold secrets of the heaven and hell. Yeah, as she breathe, the nature breathes with her, as she walks, the birds follow her, as she feels, the air dances and as her tears falls; the sky unburdens itself in empathetic rain.
This is not the first time when Aranaya feels this deep connection with the nature and universe. Somehow, her soul is giving signs that deep inside there is a need of recalling what she had been forgotten for years. This is the emotion that not just her heart holds but also her soul is craving for this.
"Enough Cutie, if you think like this - the world will declare you either paagal or scientists will take you for further experiments" - She says to herself while walking in the woods.
The forest was giving the answers of silence. No birdsong. No rustling leaves. Only the sound of her breath — slow, uneven — as she moved through the mist that curled low around the earth like a memory refusing to fade.
Aaranya stepped lightly across the uneven path, her sandals brushing against dew-dampened leaves. The trail ahead was almost invisible, swallowed by curling mist and a canopy so thick that the sunlight broke through only in trembling beams. The air was cool, scented with earth, rain, and something older—something sacred.
She didn't know why she had come here.
" Yeh konse adhyatmik yn bhootiya jungle me mai aa gai. Na to koi chidiyaa dikh rhi h, na koi sher.... Agr sher dikh jaye to kya karogi... Yhan to mitti itni geeli hai ki fisal jaungi aur us sher ka khana ban jaungi. Chalo Sher bhi kya yaad rakhega ki itna delicious khana h uske naseeb me.. But you know Destiny"... She walks further...
This path wasn't marked on any map. No guide in the nearby village knew of such a place. Yet when she had closed her eyes the night before, it had come to her—in flashes of gold, fire, and stone. And the sound of a bell. Low, slow, and haunting. The kind of sound that lived inside the bones long after it faded from the air.
Her heart had not stopped aching since she woke up.
And now, here she was—deep in the forest, following a pull she could not explain. Not fear, not curiosity. Something else.
Something like... longing.
The trees parted suddenly, as if obeying an unseen hand.
Aaranya froze.
Before her stood a crumbling temple, ancient and forgotten. Time had worn away most of its glory—the stone pillars were cracked, the steps uneven, the deity at the entrance broken beyond recognition. Moss clung to every surface like memory. The sky above was open, yet the temple felt dim, as if the light itself hesitated to enter.
She took a step forward.
The air shifted. Heavy. Sacred. As though the gods held their breath.
She crossed the threshold. A pulse stirred inside her chest.
The wind died. The birds fell silent.
And then... she felt it.
A presence.
It wasn't the kind that made your skin crawl. It wasn't fear. It was heavier than that. Like déjà vu laced with heartbreak.
She turned slowly toward the altar.
A man stood there.
He hadn't been there a moment ago. She was certain.
She was like..." Hain? Is jungle me shaktiyaan hai kya??? Koi bhi Kahin bhi prakat ho skta h?"
She says, "Ohh Mister, Yhan akele khade kiske khayalon me khoye ho... Yn kisi ko darr se marke khane ka iraada h??"
He was tall, cloaked in black robes that clung to him like shadow. His face was calm, but his eyes were not. They burned. Gold and grey, storm and sun, sorrow and fire. Eyes that belonged to a man who had lost everything—and still stood tall.
" Yeh kahin kisi tree ne insaan ka roop to nhi le liya? Aranaya, itna mat soch, tere khayalon se to darr bhi darr jaye..".. She again had number of thoughts.
He didn't move. He only looked at her. Like he had seen a ghost.
Aranaya felt a mysterious aura of that Man like all the nights are his to serve. She became tensed as she felt this strange vibe from that person.
"Who...?" she started, but the words refused to leave her throat.
"You came," he whispered. His voice was low, hoarse, soft like dust. "After all this time."
She blinked. "Do I... know you?"
Something flickered across his expression. Grief, restrained. Hope, smothered.
"You don't remember," he said, more to himself than to her.
"Should I?" she asked. Her voice was firmer now, though her chest tightened with every breath.
He stepped forward.
She didn't move.
"You don't remember the flames," he said slowly, "or the prayer you made as you held my dying body."
Her breath caught.
"You don't remember the mark you carved into my skin so you would find me again."
His voice cracked, just barely.
He stepped even closer, voice low and reverent, like a man speaking not to a person—but to a memory he worshipped.
"You don't remember," he said, "begging the heavens to tear your soul apart if it meant I could live."
Aaranya's breath hitched.
"You don't remember falling to your knees, screaming my name as my body turned to ash in your arms—your prayers louder than the gods' silence."
He took a shaky breath, eyes gleaming with restrained agony.
"You don't remember offering your light—your divine light—to the darkness itself, just to keep me from vanishing."
His voice cracked, soft but sharp enough to wound the air.
"You carved a vow into your own flesh. You said you'd find me. No matter the cost. Even if the stars forgot. Even if the sky closed its gates to you forever."
She couldn't move. Her heart thundered in her ears.
He stared at her with the haunted gaze of a soul who had lived through too many lifetimes of death.
"You promised me eternity… And now you're standing in front of me with eyes that don't know me."
He smiled, broken and beautiful.
"That is the cruelest mercy fate has ever shown me."
Aaranya didn't breathe.
Couldn't.
His words rang in her skull like bells forged from lightning—tear your soul apart… turn to ash in your arms… offer your light to the darkness itself…
No one had ever spoken to her like that.
Not in this life.
Not with such unbearable grief… and such terrifying love.
She stared at him. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped.
Her knees weakened, her vision blurred—
and then—
a flash.
MEMORY
Screams.
Flames licking the temple walls.
A sky cracking open as the stars wept silver blood.
She was kneeling—in the same temple—her white robes soaked in red, arms wrapped around a body dissolving in her lap. A man. Him.
His chest was torn open. Divine energy unraveling.
"Please," she sobbed into his shoulder, "take me instead. Please… take me."
Her voice—her true voice—echoed across realms.
"Let me burn, not him. Don't take him. I'll give up everything—my power, my title, my place in the heavens. I'll give you my light—just don't take him—"
The gods did not answer.
And as his body began to turn to ash in her arms, he looked up at her—broken, peaceful, in love—and whispered…
"In the next life… if I am cursed to darkness, will you still choose me?"
She had whispered back, through a storm of tears:
"In every life. In every form. I will always find you."
Her divine love fades into ashes as he kisses her forehead....