Time Stamp: Vikram Era: 27 Chaitra 1637 (April 1579)
As the initial shock wore off, Siddharth and Aicha came across the corpses of strange creatures, their bodies a grotesque fusion of various animals, as if they had been haphazardly stitched together by a mad scientist. The sight was horrifying, with limbs twisted in unnatural ways and eyes staring vacantly into the distance.
Aicha looked pale and exhausted. "I need to rest for a bit. I haven't slept in days."
Siddharth nodded, concern etched on his face. "Rest here. I'll handle this."
While Aicha dozed off, Siddharth began the grim task of burying the creatures. He dragged their twisted bodies to a nearby snowdrift, digging makeshift graves with his hands. The work was grueling, the cold biting into his fingers, but he knew it had to be done to prevent any possible spread of disease. The snow was hard and unforgiving, each shovel of it feeling like an eternity. He paused occasionally, glancing back at Aicha, who was sleeping fitfully.
Her face, usually so guarded and fierce, now appeared vulnerable and peaceful. Siddharth couldn't help but wonder about her true identity and the scars that marred her otherwise beautiful face. What battles had she fought, and what secrets did she carry? But those questions would have to wait.
Once the last of the creatures was buried, Siddharth returned to find Aicha still asleep. He gently shook her awake. "Aicha, it's time to go. We need to get back."
She stirred, blinking her eyes open and sitting up slowly. "Thank you, Siddharth. Let's get moving."
The trek back to civilization was slow and painful. Siddharth supported Aicha's weight as they navigated the treacherous terrain. The cold bit into their skin, and every step felt like a battle against their own bodies' limits. The landscape around them was desolate, with snow-covered ruins of buildings stretching out in every direction. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of their labored breathing and the crunch of snow underfoot.
"You need to lean on me more," Siddharth urged, noticing her wincing with every movement.
Aicha shook her head stubbornly. "I'm fine. Just a little farther."
But it wasn't just a little farther. The journey seemed endless, and as the hours dragged on, their pace slowed to a crawl. Siddharth's muscles burned with the effort of keeping them both upright, and Aicha's breathing grew labored and shallow. They passed through streets lined with dilapidated buildings, the ghosts of a once-thriving city.
Every now and then, Siddharth would catch sight of something that reminded him of the past—an old sign, half-buried in snow, or a rusted piece of machinery. The memories were bittersweet, a reminder of the life he once knew and the strange new reality he now faced.
The cold gnawed at them relentlessly. Aicha's steps became more labored, and Siddharth could feel her weight leaning more heavily on him. He tightened his grip around her waist, trying to share some of his warmth. "Almost there," he whispered, more to himself than to her.
Eventually, they reached the outskirts of the abandoned city. The crumbling buildings loomed over them, silent witnesses to their struggle. Just as they began to think they might not make it, a patrol of citadel soldiers appeared in the distance.
One of the soldiers, spotting them, shouted to his comrades and rushed forward. "Over here! I've found them!"
Siddharth and Aicha's knees buckled with relief. They collapsed to the ground, exhausted beyond measure, as the soldiers reached them. The last thing Siddharth saw before he blacked out was the concerned face of the soldier who had found them, shouting orders to his men.
When Siddharth came to, he found himself in a warm bed, the soft murmur of voices surrounding him. His body ached all over, but the pain was a distant, almost comforting reminder that he was still alive. He turned his head slightly and saw Vaniika standing by his bedside, her eyes filled with worry and relief.
"You're awake," she said, her voice trembling. Tears welled up in her eyes as she rushed to his side, enveloping him in a tight embrace.
"Yeah," he croaked, his throat dry. "We made it."
Vaniika's grip tightened, and she buried her face in his shoulder, her body shaking with sobs. "I was so scared," she whispered between sobs. "I thought I lost you. This is all my fault. I should have never let you go alone."
Siddharth felt a lump form in his throat. He gently pulled back and cupped her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. "Didi, it's not your fault. I'm here because of you. You kept me strong."
Vaniika shook her head, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. "No, I should have been there with you. I should have protected you."
Siddharth's heart swelled with emotion. The relief of being back, the concern for his sister, and the overwhelming exhaustion all mingled together. "Vaniika, you did everything you could. We both made it back. That's what matters."
She sniffled, trying to regain her composure, but the tears kept coming. "I was so worried, Siddharth. I kept blaming myself for letting you go off alone. I should have known better."
He squeezed her hand, his own eyes misting over. "Please, don't blame yourself. We're together now, and that's all that matters."
Vaniika hugged him again, this time more gently, as if afraid he might disappear if she let go. "Promise me you won't do something like this again."
Siddharth nodded, his voice soft. "I promise, didi. I'm sorry for worrying you."
She held him close, her tears slowly subsiding. "Just rest now. We'll talk more later. But right now, I need to know you're safe."
As he lay back, feeling the warmth and comfort of his sister's presence, Siddharth couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. They had survived the ordeal, and now, back in the safety of the citadel, they could begin to unravel the mysteries they had uncovered.