अन्तः अस्ति प्रारंभः।
The end is the beginning.
A caterpillar dies, to birth a butterfly. Water evaporates to rain down. Dead carcasses fill the stomachs of vultures.Life gives way to death and death to life. In a vicious circle of different karmas...
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Mihira did not know much art except whatever her uncle could quote and one musty Raja Verma painting in their attic but she remembered one poem that he often cited, asking if the world would end in ice or fire.
Both of them were wrong and right at the same time.
World would not end in fire or ice, it was beginning to end in a crystal river turning to blood, in huts being torn down and unbiased drowning of anyone who's fate had decided so. The world was ending in blood curling screams with burning bruises and cold, numb aches.
In what seemed like minutes, Shambala was flooded. The waves crashed seamlessly with the temples as they devoured houses and humans alike. The clear water that Mihira had worshipped every morning, was now filthy and red as it carried the souvenir of an uncalled war.
Mihira's feet fell on the cold marble with difficulty, trying to find purchase on the smooth surface as she tried to push back the horde on humans and predators trying to go to their injured master, Kali Purush. No one knew how long Kali Purush and Kalki Prabhu were fighting and perhaps that was how it was supposed to be. A secret, intimate knowledge of two nemesis, not even known to time.
Occasionally, behind her back, Mihira would hear an anguished scream that was followed by a definitive crack that continued to be louder and louder by the time.
"You coward!" The same cold voice shouted again,"When I win, oh when I do, I will take that horrid Crown, you undeserving peasant!"
Mihira snorted, as if anyone would touch Kalki Prabhu without his explicit wishes. She plunged her blade in a woman's waist, stabbing and quickly retracting her machete as the ground rumbled.
The temple shivered.
"Kali Purush!" A female voice commanded, echoing loudly over the temple. The voice felt like power, guttural and raw as She spoke,"Your end has come. Accept it and you shall not be chained too bitterly. Perhaps, we shall show you mercy and make you fall asleep. Do not speak against my Lord."
Parshuram Bhagwan protested just as Mihira was kicked onto her back, her shoulder blades whining with so much blunt trauma. "Ramaa Devi, leaving evil like him in mercy for even a moment is a threat to our Dharma, we must not show any mercy to this inhuman!"
A thrill shot over Mihira's spine and she shot up, using her machete to block an attack as she processed. Ramaa Devi? Dear Amravati, that must mean the tremble in the Earth was the Bhu Devi's anger.
Kali Purush laughed, though it sounded strangely broken and unsure as compared to his earlier egoistic cheerfulness. He taunted,"Or what, little girl? Will you have another tantrum and risk killing your little ants?"
"As if we wish to live any longer." Mihira muttered under her breath, mindlessly running her fingers over a blooming bruise on her ribs.
A demon jumped towards her and Mihira used his motion as an advantage, swirling around and shoving him roughly against the wall of the temple, barley dodging the punch that was aimed at her. However, she didn't see the kick coming.
