The moon hung low, heavy with secrets.
Sitara stood alone at the edge of the palace terrace, her fingers curled loosely around the Phoenix Seal. The metal was cold against her palm, but it pulsed — as if remembering something. As if waiting.
Below her, Aryagarh moved like a living creature — the wind in its lungs, the rebellion in its blood. She could feel the shift in the city's rhythm. It was not loud yet, but it was building.
A storm always starts with silence.
The Vision Returns
She blinked — and the terrace melted into something else.
Smoke coiled around her ankles. Walls, no longer stone, but obsidian glass. Fire licked the edges of her vision, but it did not burn. In the center of the room stood a throne… split in two. On one half, the golden sigil of Aryagarh. On the other — charred, broken, and unmarked.
Then: a voice.
Low. Male. Familiar, but distant.
"Do you think truth sets you free, Sitara?"
"It binds you. To legacy. To loss. To me."
She turned sharply—there he was.
A figure cloaked in shadow. His face hidden beneath a half-burnt mask. But his eyes—so like hers. Too like hers.
Samrat.
"You're not ready for what's coming," he said.
"But ready or not… the flame chooses."
She gasped—and the vision shattered.
Back in the Palace
Vivaan found her collapsed on the terrace floor, the Seal burning bright in her hand.
"Sitara," he said sharply, crouching. "Sitara—look at me."
She blinked. "He was here. My brother. I saw him."
Vivaan's eyes darkened. "A vision?"
She nodded, trembling. "He's waiting for something. Or someone."
"Do you trust what you saw?"
She met his gaze.
"No," she whispered. "But I felt it. I don't know what's real anymore. Only that the truth is bigger than us both."
A Quiet Moment Between Them
Later, in the quiet of the garden chambers, Sitara sat with Vivaan beneath the sleeping stars. He didn't press her. He only held her hand, letting silence say what words could not.
"I think he's alive," she finally said. "And not just alive. He's watching."
Vivaan exhaled, his voice low. "Then we let him watch. And when he comes—we won't run."
She turned to him. "You're not afraid?"
"I'm afraid of losing you. Everything else is just noise."
She leaned against him. Not for protection. For presence.
"The flame chose us," she murmured. "I just don't know what for."
"To light the truth," he said softly, "or burn the lie."
Ending Hook
That night, Sitara opened her mother's diary again. Tucked between pages was a folded parchment—one she hadn't seen before.
It was a map. Faint, half-torn… leading somewhere beneath Aryagarh.
In the corner, drawn in red ink, was a symbol she'd seen once before.
Two phoenixes — twinned at the wing. One in gold. One in ash.