Episode 1. The fire and a dream

Fire!

Fire!

There was fire everywhere.

The flames roared through the eastern wing of the Raj Nivas (Royal Residence), turning the once peaceful halls into a blazing inferno.

Smoke filled the air.

Servants ran through the corridors shouting in panic.

Guards barked orders while dragging frightened women and children toward safety.

“Jaldi! (Quickly!)”

“Save the Maharani (Queen)!”

“The fire is spreading through the Rajmahal (Royal Palace)!”

The entire palace echoed with chaos.

In the center of it all, a little girl sat frozen on the polished floor.

She could not have been more than seven years old.

Tears streamed down her face as she stared at the burning world around her.

Only moments ago, she had been asleep in her chamber.

Now everything was gone.

“Ma…” she whispered.

Her voice trembled.

“Ma!”

A woman rushed through the smoke.

Even in the chaos, she looked graceful—but her face was pale, and her eyes were filled with pain.

“Ma!” the child cried again.

The woman fell to her knees and pulled her into her arms.

The little girl clung tightly to her.

Her mother.

The Maharani (Queen).

But something was wrong.

Her mother was shaking.

And crying.

“Ma… what is happening?” the girl asked.

The Maharani cupped her face gently.

“You must listen carefully.”

The child shook her head.

“No…”

“You must be brave.”

“I don’t want to be brave.”

A loud crash shook the hall.

Part of the ceiling collapsed nearby.

The child screamed, burying her face into her mother’s chest.

The Maharani held her tighter, as if trying to protect her from the whole world.

Outside, the sound of battle grew louder.

Steel clashed.

Men shouted.

Someone screamed in agony.

Then..

The doors burst open.

A man entered.

The child’s eyes widened instantly.

“Pitaji (Father)!”

The Maharaj (King) stepped forward.

His robes were blackened with soot.

There was blood on his arm.

The child reached for him immediately.

“Pitaji, you are hurt!”

He smiled faintly.

“It is nothing.”

But his eyes told a different story.

Tired.

Heavy.

Like he had already lost something he could never recover.

Behind him stood an Angrakshak (Royal Guard), kneeling at once.

“Maharaj.”

The King looked at him for a long moment.

Then spoke in a low voice.

“Take her.”

The child froze.

“What?”

The guard hesitated.

“Maharaj…”

“Take the Rajkumari (Princess) and leave immediately.”

“No!” the child cried, grabbing her father’s robe.

“I won’t go!”

The Maharani turned away, her shoulders trembling.

Tears slipped silently down her face.

The child didn’t understand.

Why were they separating?

Why weren’t they leaving together?

The Maharaj knelt before her.

His hands rested gently on her shoulders.

“My little Rajkumari…”

“No,” she shook her head again.

“You must survive.”

“No!”

“You must live.”

“I don’t want to leave you!”

For a moment, his expression broke.

Pain.

Fear.

Love.

And something deeper.

Regret.

He pulled her into a tight embrace.

He held her like he was trying to remember her forever.

Then he slowly released her.

The Angrakshak stepped forward and lifted her into his arms.

“Protect her,” the Maharaj said firmly.

“With my life,” the guard replied.

The child screamed.

“Ma! Pitaji!”

The Maharani broke completely then, reaching toward her child.

But she did not move.

She could only watch.

The guard turned and ran through the burning corridors.

Smoke filled everything.

The child kept struggling.

“Let me go! Let me go!”

But the guard did not respond.

He only ran faster.

Then....

She saw it.

At the end of a corridor.

A figure stood in the firelight.

Still.

Watching.

A sword flashed.

A scream.

A body fell.

Blood spread across the floor.

The child gasped.

The figure moved again.

Another strike.

Another fall.

Her breathing turned uneven.

“Who…?” Maa....pitaji...!she whispered.

The Angrakshak noticed.

His expression changed instantly.

Fear filled his eyes.

“No…”

He covered her eyes.

“Don’t look, Rajkumari.”

“But—”

“Don’t look.”

A strange scent filled the air.

Bitter.

Sharp.

Unfamiliar.

Her body grew heavy.

Her eyelids drooped.

The sound of fire faded.

The screams faded.

Even the footsteps disappeared.

The last thing she heard was the guard’s voice.

Soft.

Broken.

Almost a prayer.

“Forgive me, Rajkumari.”

Darkness.

Vanshika gasped and sat upright in bed.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly.

Her heart was pounding.

The room was silent.

Dark.

No fire.

No smoke.

No screams.

Only moonlight falling through the window.

She blinked slowly.

Still breathing heavily.

It was just a dream.

Again.

The same fire.

The same palace.

The same faces she could never fully remember.

She pressed a hand to her forehead.

Her fingers were cold.

Outside, the mountains stood under the night sky.

Still.

Silent.

Vanshika closed her eyes for a moment.

Then slowly exhaled.

Another night like this.

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