11-03-2026, 06:52 PM
The silence that followed was deafening.
Arjun could hear his own heart pounding in his ears, a rush of blood roaring through his temples.
The weight of her words, of this entire prophecy, crushed him, yet at the same time, a strange thrill curled in his chest.
Was it fear? Was it desire? Or was it the pull of fate itself?
“So… you have to choose, me...” he said quietly, the weight of his voice hanging in the air like a challenge.
Meera nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on his, her hand reaching out to brush lightly against his arm, a fleeting touch that sent an electric jolt through him.
“Yes... We discussed it among ourselves, the nine of us.
We’ve talked about this moment, about what happens after the fire.
Some of us... are afraid.
Some of us are uncertain.
But all of us know one thing: We have been chosen, and so has the man who saved us.
We have to offer ourselves to you, only if you wish.
But I think you already know.
I think you already understand what we’re offering.”
Arjun is quiet, his breath shallow, his heart pounding.
He feels as if the world itself is spinning, his mind struggling to catch up.
“So… all of you?” he asks, voice cracking.
“All nine of you, you, have to offer yourselves to me?”
Meera paused, as if weighing her next words carefully.
The air around them seemed to grow heavier, charged with a tension that spoke of both fate and freedom.
She turned to him slowly, her voice lowering, thick with the gravity of what she was about to reveal.
"If we don't choose, Arjun," she said softly, her words almost reverent,
"if we don’t all decide to break this chain...
the old tradition will continue.
For generations, every 18 years, the ceremony will repeat itself.
Nine girls will be chosen, just as we were.
They will be marked as Sevakies, devoted to the gods, forever untouched by the world.
And each time, they will live this life...
until the day they die.
No escape, no end."
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