Once the Mayuri landed on the field, I quickly got off and ran towards the direction of our camp. The only thought that kept howling inside my head. My friends followed behind closely. There was no one to greet us, let alone rejoice in our victory over Rahu.

But then I understood why.

Our camp was ablaze in a fire. The soldiers ran heedlessly around, trying to put out the force of destruction. With a sunken feeling, I paused at the sight in disbelief. Almost every tent was set aflame. I heard the avatars' voices, shouting from a distance.

"Oh, Yama's hell! What's happening?" Atith cried afterward.

We ran towards the chaos to find our other friends. Samudra was the first one we ran into. He was standing behind the arching wave of water from the lake. The son of Varuna moved his hands swiftly, wielding the element and hurling it about. The water splashed against the burning tents, extinguished it completely.

"Samudra, what happened?" Tusita called out to him. He turned to us with both relief and distress.

"Someone sneaked into our camp after you left," he said. "A powerful being who disguised in the veil of illusion then set fire to our tents!"

"Where are the other avatars?"

"They're helping the soldiers to save the animals and our war supplies. These flames are ceaseless. Even Morokot could hardly control them. She's trying to stop the blaze from spreading as best as she could."

The same nagging thought arose in my mind again.

"Amarisa!" I breathed and turned on my heels shapely, running in tandem to the beats of my heart. I weaved through the crowd of people until I reached my quarter. At least, it wasn't burning, but there was no light coming from the inside.

I called out to her, but there was no answer.

"Amarisa!" I cried again and burst through the flap door. She wasn't in the tent or anywhere in sight. I ran back outside, eyeing for her among the screaming maidens.

Suddenly a burning pole toppled over and started to fall on me. But someone grabbed me from behind, pulling me out of the way. We collapsed onto the ground.

It was the son of Yama.

"Are you hurt, pale one?" he asked.

"I'm fine. I have to find the princess," I said, staggering to my feet again, but another vision came, rendering me helpless on the ground. This time it was clearer and more focused. With my head in my hands, I saw the image of Kesar flying anxiously through the sky. She came swooping down upon the flying chariot and the man, who had captured —no! Amarisa!

Kesar fought against the vicious rider with all her strength. She tried to claw at the mysterious enemy, drawing out the talons of her bird feet against him. At the same time, her hands tried to free the crying princess away from his vice-like grip.

The man cried furiously and pulled out a sword. He lashed upon the maiden like a strike of lightning, tearing off one of her golden wings. Kesar let out a piercing scream that echoed through the sky. She fell from the great height to the ground, her feathers fluttered in the winds listlessly. The chariot flew away, disappearing into the blackness.

"No!" I awoke from the trance with my own scream. After the vision was over, I picked myself up and ran out of the burning mess. Tears already sprang from my eyes.

I ran until I couldn't feel my own legs anymore. My lungs threatened to burst from pain, but I didn't stop until I was in the depth of the forest near the mountain. As I wandered fitfully through the jungle, the moonbeams and the shadows fluttered around the trees. Then I found beyond me a lively meadow, where a familiar figure was lying.

A thousand silent screams burned inside my chest. I slowed down, and my feet felt heavy once I reached her. The numbness appeared merciful at that moment, a few more steps— a few more short breaths before I fell on my knees. All I could see was blood-stained wings, folding in odd angles over the maiden.

"Kesar," I whispered. My shaking hands gathered her bloody form gently. I stared down at her with tears streaming down my face. "Oh no, Kesar..."

"My lady...my lady...the princess..." she said weakly between gasps of air. Her teary eyes tried to relate all that had befallen Amarisa. I shook my head back, telling wordlessly that I already knew what happened.

"Don't speak, Kesar," I said. "I will get you help. Just hold on."

"She didn't know it wasn't you," Kesar tried to tell me. "I'm sorry, I couldn't..."

I shook my head back. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

"No, please, don't apologize. It's not your fault, Kesar," I said. "It's mine."

I shouldn't have let Amarisa hide with me. I should have asked her parents to get her back to the city. It was all my fault, and now Kesar had to pay the price and face the terror of that demon.

Her blood-smeared hand went up to my face. Her fingers were cold and trembling from the agony she was enduring. I took it in mine and pressed her palm against my cheek. I could feel the faint beat of her heart like a trapped moth. Memories of Kesar strung together before my eyes, reminding me of how I had treated her.

"Do not blame yourself," she whispered. "It was my fate."

And slowly, I felt Kesar's strength failing as life began to slip away from her body. She stared up at me with a gleam in her eyes. It was a look of forgiveness. Then the last bit of her spirit that still tethered to her body was also gone.

I bit my lips from screaming, for if I did, I wouldn't be able to stop. Eyes brimming with tears; I leaned over and kissed her forehead. Kesar's face was pale and serene like the moonshine. Then a celestial glow emitted from her body, starting first from her golden wings. Her form broke into tiny shimmering dust like golden pollen. It rose like fireflies into the air, circling around the field. I looked down again and found my hands empty.

The luminous energy paused for a moment over my frozen form. A gentle feeling emanated from it. It wasn't a sorrow or regret; instead, it was a sign of freedom, free from the bondage of mortal love and suffering. The glow broke away from me again then soared up into the sky.

Then I was left alone in dark, sitting like I was carved out of stone, cold and hard with grief. But some part of me was relieved that at least Kesar was away from the anguish and burden of this life.