The sky bled with fire.
Vihan stood in the ruins of a world that no longer existed, the echoes of his past clawing at him like unseen hands. Flames licked at the horizon, stretching endlessly into a void that pulsed between light and shadow. Smoke curled around his feet, seeping into his lungs, suffocating.
Yet, he did not move.
He had seen this before.
Every night, this dream came for him. Every night, the fire called his name, whispering the same poison that had been etched into his bones.
"You are nothing without me."
The voice slithered through the flames, neither fully human nor fully beast. It dripped with false sweetness, the cruel purr of someone who once claimed to love him.
Vihan clenched his jaw, fists curling at his sides. "Not real," he muttered. "This isn't real."
But then came the laughter. Soft, chilling, wrapping around his chest like a noose.
From the smoke, she emerged.
Not the woman who had shattered him, but the shape of what she had become in his mind—a monstrous, twisted lion with golden fur that gleamed like a mirage. Her eyes, once ones he had foolishly trusted, were hollow, soulless, reflecting nothing but her own delusions.
"You cannot run from me," the lioness cooed, pacing around him. "You never could. You are weak, Vihan. You were always weak. That is why you needed me."
He did not flinch. Not this time.
"I don't need you."
The lioness grinned, baring razor-sharp fangs. "Then why do I still own your dreams?"
Vihan's breath hitched. The fire around him swelled, tightening its grip, pressing down like an invisible force determined to break him. His knees threatened to buckle.
But then, something changed.
The fire wavered. A shift in the air.
From the depths of the inferno, a shimmer of sapphire light rippled outward, as if the world itself was exhaling. The flames recoiled, bending to the presence of something else—someone else.
Then, he saw her.
A figure moved through the haze, stepping lightly across the burning earth as if untouched by its heat. Her form shimmered, bathed in ethereal hues of gold and deep blue. Silk, fluid as water, cascaded around her, and with every movement, iridescent feathers fanned at her back like a celestial peacock in full bloom.
She did not belong in this place.
And yet, here she was.
Vihan's breath caught in his throat. He had never seen her before, yet something about her felt… familiar.
The lioness snarled, retreating, her form flickering like an unstable illusion. "No," she whispered. "You do not belong here."
The woman—this otherworldly goddess—tilted her head, her dark eyes locking onto his. They were not kind, nor cruel. They were knowing. They saw him.
And that terrified him more than the fire ever had.
"You are not who she says you are," she murmured, stepping closer.
Vihan flinched. "You don't know me."
The corner of her lips curved—not a full smile, but something close. "No," she admitted. "But I will."
Her voice carried across the dreamscape like a song, weaving through the air, wrapping around his wounded soul. The fire trembled, resisting her presence, but it was not her that sent the flames retreating.
It was him.
He could feel it—the weight of the past beginning to unravel, the chains loosening. The lioness bared her fangs, trying to regain control, but the woman raised a single hand.
A golden glow spread from her fingertips, mingling with the deep blue of her aura. The air crackled with power, and for the first time in a long time, Vihan felt something other than rage.
The lioness shrieked.
A gust of wind—no, feathers—rushed through the space between them, wrapping around Vihan like a shield. The beast recoiled, howling in pain, before dissolving into nothingness.
The fire died.
The dreamscape shifted.
And then, it was just the two of them.
Vihan exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He looked at her again—at this woman who had stepped into his nightmare and changed it.
"Who are you?" he asked, voice rough with disbelief.
She did not answer.
Instead, she stepped forward, until she was close enough for him to see the faint glow of gold dust against her skin. She reached up, fingers grazing just over his heart—not touching, just hovering there.
"Find me," she whispered.
Then, the dream shattered.
Vihan jolted awake, gasping, drenched in sweat. The taste of ash still lingered on his tongue, but the fire was gone.
Only one thing remained in his mind.
The woman.
The peacock.
Aaravi.
And the promise in her voice—Find me.