The silence within the ruins became suffocating as Arsalan and Zoya stepped deeper into the chamber. Shadows danced across the walls, their movements unnatural and deliberate, as though they were alive. The Djinn stood motionless, its face still a void of darkness. Its presence exuded an aura of power and malevolence.
“State your purpose,” the Djinn commanded, its voice resonating like thunder.
Arsalan clenched his fists. “I seek release from this curse.”
The Djinn turned its faceless void toward Zoya, who felt its gaze pierce her very soul. “And you, mortal? What do you seek in the valley of shadows?”
Zoya hesitated, her mind racing. The truth was far more complex than a single answer. She had come searching for a story, but the allure of Arsalan’s mystery, the weight of the ruins, and the creeping sense of destiny tugged at her.
“I seek the truth,” she finally said, her voice steady.
The Djinn let out a low chuckle, its laughter reverberating through the chamber. “Truth and freedom. Both come at a cost.”
A Pact with Shadows
The ground shifted beneath their feet, and the inscriptions on the walls flared to life, bathing the room in an eerie golden glow. The Djinn raised a hand, and an ornate box appeared before them, hovering midair.
“This relic holds the key to your desires,” it said. “But it is bound by the blood of those who sought it before you. To claim it, you must confront the past.”
“What does that mean?” Zoya asked, her curiosity outweighing her fear.
The Djinn ignored her and focused on Arsalan. “You, cursed one, must relive the betrayal that bound your soul. And you, seeker of truth,” it said, turning to Zoya, “must witness it.”
Arsalan’s jaw tightened. “I will endure whatever it takes.”
The Djinn tilted its head. “Bold words. Let us see if they hold weight.”
The Vision of Betrayal
A blinding light consumed the chamber, and suddenly, they were no longer in the ruins. Zoya blinked as her surroundings transformed into a battlefield. Smoke and ash filled the air, and the cries of the wounded and dying echoed around her.
She turned to Arsalan, but he looked different. His armor gleamed as if freshly forged, and his face bore none of the weariness she had grown accustomed to. This was Arsalan as he had been centuries ago—a warrior in his prime, commanding a battalion of rebels against an encroaching imperial force.
“Where are we?” Zoya whispered, though she already suspected the answer.
“My last stand,” Arsalan said grimly.
The scene unfolded around them. Arsalan’s forces, composed of Kashmiri and Punjabi rebels, fought valiantly against the Mughals. At the heart of the battlefield stood the relic—the same ornate box now guarded by the Djinn.
As Zoya watched, she saw the betrayal unfold. One of Arsalan’s closest allies, a man named Hamid, turned against him, leading a contingent of rebels straight into a trap. The Mughals overwhelmed Arsalan’s forces, capturing the relic and slaughtering many in the process.
Arsalan’s face twisted in anguish as he watched his past self kneel in defeat. “Hamid… I trusted him. He sold us all for his freedom.”
Zoya felt a pang of empathy but remained silent. She knew this vision was not just for Arsalan—it was a lesson for her as well.
The Djinn’s Test
The battlefield dissolved, and they were back in the chamber. Arsalan dropped to one knee, the weight of his past pressing down on him.
“You have faced your betrayal,” the Djinn said. “Now, what will you do with it?”
Arsalan looked up, his eyes burning with resolve. “I will end this curse and make things right.”
The Djinn turned to Zoya. “And you, mortal? Do you still seek the truth, knowing it may destroy you?”
Zoya swallowed hard. “Yes. The truth is worth any price.”
The Djinn chuckled. “Then your trial begins.”
The inscriptions on the walls shifted, forming an intricate pattern that pulsed with light. The relic floated toward them, its surface shimmering.
“Place your hands upon the relic,” the Djinn commanded.
Arsalan and Zoya exchanged a glance, then stepped forward together. As their hands touched the relic, a surge of energy coursed through them, pulling them into another vision.
A Glimpse of the Future
This time, the vision was of the valley itself, shrouded in mist and chaos. Fires burned among the Chinar trees, and shadows roamed freely, terrorizing the living. Zoya saw herself standing at the center of the chaos, holding the relic aloft. Arsalan stood beside her, his armor cracked and bloodied.
“You will have to choose,” the Djinn’s voice echoed. “The relic demands sacrifice. One will live, and one will perish.”
The vision faded, leaving them shaken.
“What does it mean?” Zoya demanded.
The Djinn’s tone was cryptic. “That is for you to discover.”
With a wave of its hand, the Djinn vanished, leaving them alone in the chamber. The relic remained, its glow dim but steady.
“What now?” Zoya asked, her voice trembling.
Arsalan picked up the relic, his expression resolute. “Now, we find out if we’re strong enough to change our fates.”
Next Chapter: Veil of Shadows →
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