The second morning in the war camp began with a dull ache in the sky. Clouds floated low and heavy, whispering quiet warnings to the world below. The chirping birds seemed subdued, as though they too sensed the weight of the sorrow lingering in the air.
Madhvi sat beneath the tall sal tree just outside her tent, her eyes hollow, distant—staring toward the thick jungle beyond the river. The forest rustled with wind and wild whispers, but her mind was elsewhere…lost in memories of her father's smile, his warmth, his voice echoing in their little hut.
Jay stood by a distance, watching her.
Her sadness had grown deeper since she heard the words "No survivors." The sharp glint of her spirit was fading. Every time he caught a glimpse of her face, it twisted something inside him. He could handle war. He could face swords, arrows, even beasts… but not her tears.
He turned swiftly, summoning his captain.
"I want another search unit dispatched immediately," Jay ordered. "Same route. Push deeper. Find anything—footprints, burnt cloth, old blood stains—anything!"
"Yes, my prince!" the captain replied and rushed to execute the order.
Jay returned to Madhvi, crouching beside her quietly.
"We're searching again," he said gently.
She didn't respond—just nodded faintly.
---
Day 3 – Silence
The sun sank behind the trees for the third evening, and still, no news came.
The soldiers returned, weary and empty-handed.
"No signs, my lord," one leader reported, bowing.
Jay clenched his jaw. He didn't speak. He just walked past them and returned to the training ground, his fists tightening around the hilt of his sword. He swung endlessly—strike after strike, sweat dripping from his brow. The pain in his body felt easier than the pain in his heart.
---
Day 4 and 5 – Scattered Hope
By the fifth morning, Jay had divided his army into 15 specialized search units—each with five soldiers and one seasoned leader. They were sent in every direction the jungle stretched. He used maps, terrain knowledge, even tribal whispers from nearby villagers to trace possible hideouts.
While soldiers scoured the jungle, Jay spent his time patrolling nearby villages, solving disputes, calming scared farmers after animal attacks, even punishing a small band of rogue men who had been troubling a merchant family.
Madhvi watched him, hidden behind the crowd.
She watched how the villagers respected him—not because he was a prince, but because of his judgment, his sense of justice, his presence. Children ran to him. Women sought blessings. Elders bowed in reverence. His decisions were swift, sharp… yet kind.
One night, as he returned, his armor dusty, a scar across his cheek from a wild cat, Madhvi waited by the tent entrance.
"You helped that child today," she said softly.
Jay smiled, brushing his sweat-slicked hair back. "He reminded me of my younger brother."
"You're more than a prince," she whispered. "You're… hope."
Jay blinked. But before he could respond, Madhvi turned and limped back inside her tent, cheeks flushed.
---
Day 6 – Nightfall of Despair
By the sixth night, hope was slipping away.
Fourteen search units had returned one by one. Exhausted, scratched, bloodied by thorns… but with nothing in their hands.
"No trace of Vaishnav," each unit reported. "No bandits, no hidden trails, no camps."
Jay's heart grew heavier.
Madhvi sat quietly by the fire. She barely ate. Her fingers gripped a piece of her father's old cloth—a scrap from the hut they recovered. Her eyes stared at the dancing flames like they held a message from him.
Jay sat beside her in silence, both lost in thought. The forest around the camp was still, the night colder than usual.
"Tomorrow," Jay said, "we'll try one last time."
Madhvi didn't reply.
---
Day 7 – The Blood Messenger
Dawn broke with a strange silence. No birds, no rustling wind. Even the leaves seemed stiff.
As the sun climbed higher, the last unit hadn't returned.
Jay stood near the watch post, eyes locked on the jungle trail.
Hours passed.
The sun dipped again. Madhvi sat beside him now, both staring into the trees. The air felt eerie, charged.
Suddenly, a shout rang out.
"Rider approaching!!"
Everyone turned.
Out from the jungle staggered one lone soldier, his body slashed in multiple places, armor torn, a broken poisoned arrow lodged in his back. He ran a few feet before collapsing into the mud.
"MEDIC!!" Jay roared, sprinting toward him.
Soldiers rushed, lifting him onto a stretcher and bringing him to the medic tent. The old healer, who had treated Madhvi, pressed herbs and cloth to his wounds.
Jay knelt by him, eyes wild. "Speak! What happened?!"
But the soldier was barely breathing, lips pale, pulse weak.
The healer examined his wounds and shook her head.
"He won't make it. The poison's spread too far… He's slipping."
Jay clenched his fists. "No… not again."
Madhvi stood frozen at the tent entrance. Her mind raced. No. No more death. No more helplessness.
And then, something stirred in her heart…a faint whisper, a memory… "Healing is not just knowledge. It is energy."
She turned and limped toward the jungle trees.
Jay noticed. "Madhvi! Where are you going?"
"Just wait," she replied firmly.
She reached the tall grass near the treeline. Her eyes scanned every inch.
And then—she saw it.
A small patch of clover.
She dropped to her knees, trembling.
A four-leaf clover. Rare. Sacred.
Her fingers plucked it gently. She pressed it between her palms, closed her eyes, and whispered an ancient chant her father once taught her—a forgotten dialect, a rhythm that pulsed through her veins like a heartbeat.
Suddenly—a glow.
Her hands radiated golden light. A soft hum filled the air.
She opened her eyes—startled. But smiling.
Jay stood behind her, stunned.
"What… what is that?"
"No time," she said urgently. "Help me to him."
Jay nodded, offered his arm, and together they walked back into the tent.
Madhvi knelt beside the dying soldier. She placed the glowing clover on his wound, whispering the chant again. The glow intensified—spreading across his chest, his face, his limbs. The scent of burning poison filled the air… and then, silence.
The glow faded.
The arrow wound vanished like it was never there.
Everyone in the tent stared—frozen in disbelief.
The healer stepped back, her eyes wide. "That's… that's not normal healing. That's ancient soul-binding energy."
Jay turned slowly toward Madhvi. "What are you?"
She looked down at her hands, then at the clover, now just a plain leaf again.
"I don't know," she whispered.
Suddenly, the soldier stirred.
His eyes fluttered—first one… then the other.
He gasped, breathing heavily. Then started shaking uncontrollably. His eyes were wide with fear.
Jay gripped his shoulders. "Calm down! Tell me—what did you see?"
The soldier's voice came out cracked, terrified.
"They're not… normal…" he whispered. "We… we followed a trail… a faint one… it led to an old ruined temple… we went inside… there was something… dark… watching us. Shadows… moving without bodies…"
Jay's eyes narrowed. "Bandits?"