The golden rays of dawn stretched across the vast lands beyond the waterfall, revealing a world unlike anything Shivudu had ever seen. Towering mountains framed lush valleys, rivers snaked through fertile fields, and in the distance, the mighty walls of a grand city loomed—a city that pulsed with power and history.
But none of it captivated Shivudu as much as the lone figure standing on a distant ridge.
The woman.
She was clad in dark battle armor, her hair tied back, and her stance radiated strength. A quiver full of arrows rested on her back, and in her hands, she gripped a bow with practiced ease. Even from afar, Shivudu could see the fire in her eyes—the same fire that had drawn him to this place.
For a moment, she seemed unaware of his presence. She was watching something—a group of armed men marching through the forest below. Her eyes narrowed, and she leaped from the ridge, disappearing into the shadows like a ghost.
Shivudu's heart pounded.
Who was she?
And why did he feel as though he was meant to follow her?
A City Under Tyranny
As he made his way down the slope, he caught glimpses of life beyond the waterfall. Villages were scattered across the land, but something felt off. The people walked with their heads down, their faces filled with fear. Soldiers bearing the sigil of a mighty beast patrolled the roads, their presence oppressive.
He soon overheard whispers from a group of villagers hiding in the trees.
"They're taking more young men to the capital," one said bitterly. "Another round of forced labor for the king's grand statue."
Shivudu frowned. What kind of ruler forces his own people into slavery?
His curiosity deepened. If this land was suffering, then who was this woman in the shadows? A rebel? A warrior?
He had to find out.
The Shadow of the Resistance
Night fell swiftly, and Shivudu followed the path he had last seen her take. The deeper he ventured into the woods, the clearer it became—he was not alone. The rustling of leaves, the flicker of movement in the trees… someone was watching him.
Then, without warning, an arrow shot past his ear, embedding itself in a tree beside him.
He froze.
A second later, she emerged from the darkness—bow drawn, arrow aimed directly at his heart.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice as sharp as her weapon.
Shivudu felt a strange thrill. He had imagined this moment over and over, but nothing compared to the reality of standing before her.
"You dropped something," he said, holding up the mask he had found.
Her eyes flickered with recognition, but her stance did not waver. "Where did you get that?"
"It floated down the waterfall." He took a step closer, undeterred by the arrow. "I saw it… and I saw you. I had to find you."
She studied him for a moment, then lowered her bow slightly. "You don't belong here."
"Neither do you," he countered. "You're fighting against something. I want to know why."
She hesitated, then turned away. "If you value your life, you'll leave. This is not your battle."
But Shivudu wasn't willing to walk away. He had spent his entire life searching for something beyond the walls of his village. And now, he had found it.
"Then make it my battle," he said.
She stopped. For the first time, a flicker of surprise crossed her face.
"The man you're hunting," he continued, "who is he?"
She turned back to him, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she pulled down her mask.
"My name is Avantika," she said. "And I am fighting to free a queen."
Shivudu's heart raced.
A queen?
The pieces were falling into place.
But he did not yet know that the woman Avantika sought to free… was his own mother.