Yami

Chapter 36, Eons

The first rays of dawn chase away the remnants of unease that linger from the shadows of the previous night. Over a simple breakfast of steaming parathas and fragrant chai, I brace myself to finally confront the enigma of my own forgotten past. Rukmini, sensing the turmoil within me, exchanges a knowing glance with Vikram. He clears his throat, shattering the tense silence."Yami," he begins, his voice gentle yet firm, "I see the burden of questions etched upon your brow. Let us begin the process of dispelling this darkness."My heart leaps, the scalding tea a forgotten prickle compared to the urgency simmering within me. "Please," I implore, eagerness spilling over as I meet his gaze. "I am ready."Rukmini reaches for my hands, her emerald eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "My child," she murmurs, her voice a soothing balm, "your lineage stretches back beyond the horizon, woven into the very fabric of history. Tell me what fragments you cling to, what memories glimmer in the recesses of your mind, and together we shall unravel the tapestry of your past."My voice trembles as I begin, each word a tentative step into the unknown. "I... I recall whispers of a powerful lineage as told by Rukmi, of Panna, Surya, and Manarah Gaj Singh. Through ancient scriptures hidden within the Udaipur palace, I unearthed truths veiled from the men of our family. But there is a paradox that haunts me. Anartha, the sacred haven for women warriors, was forged to vanquish creatures that plagued the land during Panna's reign. Yet, how could men be in Anartha, if it was solely for women?"Rukmini's expression turns grave. "Panna," she begins, her voice laden with the weight of centuries, "was not merely a queen but a sorceress of unparalleled power. Her magic, uncorrupted and pure, commanded respect even from the heavens. She was, you see, the daughter of Yamraj, the stern god of death."Panna, a sorceress with power that commanded respect even from the heavens, and daughter of the god of death himself? It was a lineage beyond my wildest dreams, a thread spun from legend and myth.Rukmini's gaze, heavy with centuries of wisdom, locked with mine. "But Panna wasn't just powerful," she continued, her voice a low rumble. "She carried the weight of grief. Her mother's untimely death tore a hole in her heart, and even Yamraj, valiant as he was, had a duty beyond fighting: judging the souls of the departed. So, with heavy hearts, the gods called him back, leaving Panna adrift in a world painted with sorrow."Her eyes softened, filled with a melancholic understanding. "Legend whispers that Anartha, a haven of solace and strength for women warriors, blossomed from Panna's anguished cries. A sanctuary born from her yearning for peace, a secret buried deep within the whispers of time."Suddenly, a truth dawned on me, sharp and clear. "And you believe... I am Panna reborn?" The question tumbled out, laced with wonder and trepidation. The carvings in Anartha, the strange familiarity they held, it all clicked into place.Rukmini nodded, her expression laced with both awe and concern. "The signs are undeniable, Yami. You carry the dormant embers of her immense power, a power stolen and hidden by unseen hands. Who veiled your memories? Why shrouding you in darkness? These are questions only you can answer, for the answers lie within you, just as the darkness does."A shiver ran down my spine as her words sunk in. "Rukmi must have warned you of the pitfalls," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Surya, your ancestor's love, inflicted wounds deeper than any blade. Even Yamraj, her own father, abandoned her. Trust, yamini, is a fragile thing, easily broken by betrayal."In that moment, the enormity of it all crashed down. A legacy stretching back eons, power both exhilarating and daunting, and a past cloaked in shadows. But fear gave way to resolve, a spark igniting within me. I was Yami, heir to an ancient magic, and the echoes of my past, no matter how painful, would guide me forward."Are you ready?" she asks, her gaze searching mine. "The ritual demands courage, for the memories you reclaim may come at a price. Be prepared for days of slumber, for the past can be a wearying companion."With a deep breath, I meet her gaze, my newfound resolve etched upon my face. "I am ready," I declare, the fear replaced by a burning determination. "Let the past unfold, for only then can I truly face the future."The sun, hesitant at first, bleeds gold across the ancient chamber, warming the stones beneath my trembling form. Rukmini, stands poised, a vessel of shimmering water held aloft. Beside her, Vikram, his hands clasped tight, offers silent support.A low thrumming fills the air, emanating from the ornate chalice clutched in Rukmini's hand. Smoke, fragrant with sandalwood and myrrh, curls skyward, carrying my whispered hopes on its tendrils. Chants, ancient and powerful, roll from her tongue, echoing against the stone walls. Each syllable vibrates with an unseen energy, tugging at the edges of my consciousness.Rukmini gently presses a cool cup of water into my trembling hands. Her eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, lock with mine. "Drink, Yami," she murmurs, her voice a soothing balm. "The journey ahead will be arduous, and you need your strength."I obey, the water cascading down my parched throat, its coolness spreading through my weary limbs. As the last drop slips down, Rukmini raises the ornate chalice aloft. The liquid within shimmers, reflecting the ethereal glow filtering through the high windows."Yamuna devi," she begins, her voice ringing with power, "witness of time, mirror of memories." Her words resonate in the ancient chamber, each syllable vibrating with unseen energy. "Bless this vessel," she continues, her voice dipping into a melodic chant, "imbued with the strength of your flowing waters, to reveal the echoes buried deep within."She dips a weathered finger into the chalice, drawing a shimmering glyph on my forehead. It burns cool against my skin, a brand of forgotten power. The air crackles with anticipation, the room charged with raw magic.Vikram steps forward, his touch surprisingly warm on my hand. He chants in a deep baritone, his voice harmonizing with Rukmini's. Together, they weave a tapestry of sound, each note a thread unraveling the knot of my amnesia.Hours melt into one another. The sun climbs its zenith, casting long shadows across the chamber. My eyelids grow heavy, yet I fight the pull of sleep, clinging to the flickering images surfacing in my mind. Jagged flashes of emerald eyes, the sting of betrayal, the echo of ancient battles fought with spells unknown.Exhaustion threatens to claim me, but the promise of answers fuels my resolve. I see Panna now, my ancestor, her power a blazing inferno trapped within a mortal shell. I feel her anguish, her rage, her undying love for a man who betrayed her.The day bleeds into twilight. The chants reach a crescendo, voices rising in a desperate plea. A blinding light erupts from the chalice, engulfing me in its warmth. Memories, long dormant, flood back in a torrent – battles won, loved ones lost, magic wielded with devastating beauty.I gasp, the weight of them threatening to break me. Rukmini and Vikram catch me, their combined strength anchoring me in the present. The light subsides, leaving behind a profound silence.My body aches, memories heavy in my bones, and I fall, unconscious, I guess.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------I wake up with a gasp, and the words that first leave my mouth are, "I remember."