The temple stood at the heart of the valley, its golden domes catching the late afternoon sun, shimmering like a beacon against the lush green hills. Nestled between towering mountains, it was a place untouched by war, by greed, by the weight of the outside world.
And yet, Vihan had found it.
The journey had been long—longer than he had expected, longer than he had thought possible.
For days, he had followed something unseen, a pull in his chest guiding him where no map or messenger could. He had ridden through endless forests, where the scent of wet earth and ancient trees clung to his skin. He had crossed rivers that glowed silver under the moonlight, where the water whispered secrets he did not yet understand.
And then, there had been the mountain pass.
The air had grown thinner the higher he climbed, the path winding through jagged cliffs and steep ravines. His horse had stumbled more than once, the loose stones shifting underfoot. But Vihan had pressed forward, because stopping had never been an option.
He did not question why his feet knew the way before his mind did.
He did not question why every gust of wind carried the faintest trace of sandalwood and jasmine—a scent he had never known, yet recognized as if it had always belonged to him.
He did not question why, when he had stood at the edge of the valley, looking down upon the temple, he had known.
She was here.
The final stretch had been the hardest. Not because of the distance, but because with every step closer, he felt the weight of something he could not name.
Anticipation.
Recognition.
Fate.
By the time he reached the temple gates, his breath was unsteady, his heart hammering a rhythm that did not belong to him alone.
And then—
He saw her.
She moved through the courtyard, the flowing gold and blue of her robes trailing behind her like an extension of the sky itself. Sunlight danced against her skin, catching the strands of her hair as she knelt beside a wounded elder, pressing gentle hands to his shoulder.
She did not see him.
But he saw her.
And something in him—something that had been closed off for far too long—began to unravel.
She had lived in his dreams. Existed in his fire.
And now, she was here.
Real.
Breathing.
He did not move. Did not speak.
The temple, the valley, the weight of the journey—it all faded into nothing.
There was only her.
And then, as if pulled by the same force that had carried him here, she turned.
Aaravi had been restless all day.
The feeling had started in the morning, a deep thrumming beneath her skin that would not fade, no matter how many times she steadied her breath, no matter how many prayers she whispered beneath her lips.
Something was coming.
Or someone.
She had known before she had seen him, before her gaze met his across the temple courtyard.
A warmth—a presence—unlike anything she had ever felt brushed against the edges of her awareness. It was not an unfamiliar feeling.
It was him.
She turned.
And there he was.
A man wreathed in heat and embers, his gaze dark as molten gold. He stood at the temple's entrance, shoulders broad, posture poised in a way that spoke of discipline, of a life spent wielding power.
But it was his eyes that held her still.
Because she had seen them before.
In the dream.
In the fire.
In the place where fate had whispered, Find me.
Neither of them spoke.
The silence between them was thick, charged with something neither of them fully understood, yet neither could ignore.
Slowly, as if drawn by something beyond their control, Aaravi rose to her feet.
And then, she reached out.
Her fingers brushed against his wrist, the barest touch, fleeting as a breath—
And the world shattered.
The courtyard dissolved into golden light, the temple walls falling away like sand swept by the wind. Vihan barely had time to inhale before the ground beneath them was no longer the same.
They stood in the middle of a vast nothingness, the sky above them swirling in hues of fire and sapphire.
Aaravi's breath came in sharp gasps, her vision swimming—
Because she wasn't just seeing.
She was feeling.
Vihan, as a child, standing alone in the ruins of something once whole, fire licking at the edges of his world.
Vihan, kneeling in the dark, his heart heavy, his hands bloodstained with battles he never wished to fight.
Vihan, standing tall despite the weight of everything, his eyes searching—always searching—for something he could not name.
Aaravi staggered back, her fingers curling instinctively.
Because she could feel his pain.
And it was so much like her own.
Vihan inhaled sharply, his pulse hammering, his body tense with the unfamiliar sensation of someone else inside his past.
He grabbed her wrist—not to stop her, not to push her away, but because if he didn't, he feared he would lose himself in her completely.
Aaravi's lips parted, her gaze snapping to his.
"You…" Her voice was barely a whisper. "You are—"
The vision shifted.
New images flickered before them, not of the past, but of what was yet to come.
Flames.
Feathers.
A crown of gold and fire.
Their hands intertwined.
Their fates, sealed.
A gasp tore from Aaravi's lips as the world snapped back into place.
The temple courtyard reappeared around them, the air thick with the scent of incense and earth. The warmth of Vihan's fingers still pressed against her wrist, anchoring her to the present.
Her heart pounded.
His breath was unsteady.
For a long moment, neither of them moved.
Then, finally, Vihan spoke.
"What… was that?"
Aaravi swallowed hard. She did not have the words to explain it. She only knew one thing.
This was not just a meeting.
It was a recognition.
It was the moment everything changed.
And nothing—nothing—would ever be the same again.