When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on the cold, hard floor. My body ached from the impact, and the faint smell of sandalwood and incense lingered in the air. The surroundings were familiar yet distinctly different. The intricate carvings on the walls, the opulent tapestries, and the faint glow of oil lamps reminded me that I had traveled back in time. Again.

I sat up slowly, adjusting my eyes to the dim lighting. As the realization dawned on me, my heart raced. I was back in the Vyantara period. But this time, I wasn’t outside near the temple place . I was inside a royal chamber. My eyes darted around, taking in the luxurious decor. The large bed draped in deep maroon silk, the ornate gold-framed mirror, and the heavy curtains embroidered with scenes of battles and hunts.

It hit me suddenly—this was his chamber. Maharaja Rudraksha Veeraditya’s.

I stood up, brushing off the dust from my clothes, and approached the mirror. It stood tall and imposing, but once again, it was just a mirror. No glow, no portal, no sign of the magic that brought me here. I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves.

"Okay, Aranya," I whispered to myself, "you’ve time-traveled again. But this time, I’m staying until I figure out what’s going on."

I decided that when I returned, it would be to the exact moment I had left. Sandhya would be fine. She might be scared though.

I looked around the room again. He wasn’t here. The chamber felt different from before—darker, more somber. The once-vivid colors of the decor were replaced with muted tones, and the atmosphere was heavier, almost suffocating. The grandeur seemed more intimidating than welcoming.

I stepped cautiously toward the door, my bare feet making no sound on the polished stone floor. Just as I was about to open it, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. I froze, pressing myself against the wall beside the door.

The footsteps grew louder, and soon two soldiers walked past, their conversation carrying through the corridor.

"Be careful today," one of them said, his voice low but firm. "The Maharaja’s mood has been foul these days."

"Of course," the other replied. "Today is the death anniversary of the former king and queen. You know how he gets."

The first soldier sighed. "We shouldn’t disturb him with trivial matters. Let’s just make sure nothing goes wrong."

Their voices faded as they walked away. I stayed hidden, my heart pounding. Death anniversary of his parents? That meant the loop was broken. Time had moved forward. Shivaratri was no longer the constant.

I stepped out cautiously, keeping to the shadows as I wandered through the palace. The corridors were grand, lined with tall pillars and adorned with murals depicting battles and royal ceremonies. The palace felt alive yet eerily silent, with guards stationed at almost every corner. It was difficult to navigate without drawing attention.

As I turned a corner, I heard the sound of crying and pleading. The voices came from the garden area. Curiosity and concern drew me toward the sound.

I peeked out from behind a pillar and saw an elderly woman and two children kneeling on the ground. They were sobbing, their hands clasped in a plea. Surrounding them were three soldiers, laughing cruelly.

"Please," the woman begged, her voice trembling. "We didn’t mean to offend anyone. Spare us."

One of the soldiers sneered. "Offend? You’re lucky we don’t report this to the Maharaja. He’d have you executed for your insolence."

The children clung to the woman, their small faces streaked with tears. My blood boiled at the sight.

Before I could stop myself, I stepped out from my hiding spot. "Enough!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the garden. I thought I would stay hidden!

The soldiers turned to me, their expressions shifting from surprise to annoyance.

"And who are you to interfere?" one of them demanded, stepping closer.

"I’m someone who won’t stand by while you bully innocent people," I said firmly, my hands clenched into fists.

The elderly woman looked up at me, her eyes wide with fear and hope.

"Leave them alone," I said, my voice steady despite the fear creeping into my chest.

The soldiers exchanged glances before bursting into laughter.

"Bold words," one of them said, smirking. "But you’ve just made a mistake, meddling in our business."

Before I could react, two of them grabbed me by the arms. I struggled against their grip, but they were much stronger.

"Let me go!" I shouted, kicking and twisting.

"You should’ve stayed out of this," one of them said coldly.

They dragged me and the elderly woman in different directions. I tried to fight back, but their grip was unyielding. They took me down a narrow corridor, the air growing colder with every step.

Finally, we reached a dungeon. The room was dark and damp, with thick stone walls and iron bars. The air smelled of mildew and despair. They shoved me inside, and I stumbled, falling to my knees. The rough stone floor scraped my skin, and I winced as I felt blood trickling from the cuts.

One of the soldiers leaned down, his face inches from mine. "You’re lucky we don’t want to disturb the Maharaja with this. Otherwise, you’d be dead already."

They slammed the door shut and left, their laughter echoing down the corridor. I sat there, my heart pounding, my hands trembling.

The dungeon was small and dimly lit, with a single torch flickering on the wall outside. The walls were lined with moss, and the floor was uneven and cold. Chains hung from the walls, a grim reminder of the prisoners who had been here before me.

I leaned back against the wall, taking deep breaths to calm myself. My mind raced with thoughts. Why did I step in? Why didn’t I think this through?

But even as regret flickered through my mind, I knew I couldn’t have done anything differently. Letting them bully that woman and her children would’ve been unbearable.

I looked around the cell, searching for anything that could help me escape. The only thing I had now was my determination. I wasn’t going to let this place break me.

The hours dragged by, each second feeling like an eternity. It had been evening when they threw me into this dungeon, but now it was almost midnight. The air was colder, carrying a damp chill that seeped into my bones. My knees throbbed from the earlier fall, and the cuts on my skin stung with every slight movement.

The dungeon was silent except for the faint dripping of water somewhere in the distance. I was the only prisoner here, or at least it felt that way. The oppressive silence was almost worse than the pain—it gave me too much time to think. Too much time to regret.

I hugged my knees to my chest, trying to keep warm. My mind raced with thoughts of what might happen next. Would they come back? Would they leave me here to rot?

Just as I started to drift into a haze of exhaustion, I heard it—laughter.

The sound echoed through the dungeon, growing louder as footsteps approached. My body tensed, and I pressed myself against the wall, trying to make myself as small as possible.

The soldiers were back.

Their laughter was cruel, mocking, and it sent a shiver down my spine. My heart pounded as I heard their voices grow closer.

"Look at her," one of them sneered as they reached my cell. "Still trying to act brave, I see."

I didn’t respond, keeping my gaze fixed on the floor.

"Silent now, are we?" another soldier said, unlocking the cell door and stepping inside. "Where’s all that boldness from earlier?"

I clenched my fists, refusing to look at them.

"Let’s see how long you can keep that attitude," one of them said, pulling a coiled whip from his belt.

My stomach dropped. I pressed my back harder against the wall, my breath quickening.

"Wait," I said, my voice trembling despite my efforts to sound strong. "You don’t have to do this."

The soldier smirked. "Oh, we don’t have to. We just want to."

He cracked the whip against the floor, the sharp sound making me flinch.

"Hold her," he ordered, and two of them grabbed my arms, yanking me forward.

"Stop!" I shouted, struggling against their grip, but they were too strong.

The first lash of the whip tore through the thin fabric of my dress and seared into my skin. I screamed, the pain blinding and all-consuming.

"Not so bold now, are you?" one of them taunted, laughing as he struck me again.

Tears streamed down my face, but I refused to let them see me break. I bit down on my lip, trying to stifle my cries, but each lash made it harder to stay silent.

"Look at her," another soldier said, his voice dripping with mockery. "She thought she could stand up to us."

The whip struck again, and this time, I couldn’t hold back the scream that tore from my throat.

"Enough," I gasped, my voice hoarse. "Please, stop."

But they didn’t stop. They only laughed, enjoying my pain.

They moved closer, their shadows looming over me. Panic surged through me as one of them reached out, his hand brushing against my face.

"Maybe we should have some real fun," he said, his tone dark and suggestive.

I struggled harder, kicking and twisting, but their grip was unrelenting.

"Leave her," a voice interrupted, sharp and commanding.

I turned my head to see another soldier standing in the doorway. He looked annoyed, his brows furrowed.

"The chief general has called for an emergency meeting," he said. "You’re needed now."

The soldiers holding me exchanged glances, clearly displeased.

"Guess you got lucky," one of them muttered, shoving me back against the wall.

I fell to the ground, gasping for air.

"Don’t think this is over," another said, glaring at me. "Next time, you won’t be so lucky."

They left, their laughter echoing down the corridor.

I stayed where I was, my body trembling and my breath coming in ragged gasps. The whip marks on my skin burned, and I could feel warm blood trickling down my skin. My throat was raw from screaming, and my head throbbed from the effort of holding back tears.

But now, alone in the silence of the dungeon, I couldn’t hold them back any longer.

Tears streamed down my face as I leaned against the cold stone wall. I had never endured anything like this before. The pain was unbearable, but worse than that was the overwhelming sense of helplessness.

I thought back to Rudraksha, to the kingdom I had helped save ? Was he also like this —ruthless and merciless, just like his soldiers?

Regret washed over me in waves. Maybe I should never have helped him break the loop. Maybe I should have left things as they were.

I closed my eyes, my body shaking from the pain and exhaustion. Sleep crept over me slowly, pulling me into its depths despite the agony.

As I drifted off, one thought echoed in my mind: Was this all a mistake?