The Mark Beneath

Jiya turned, panting, glancing at the bike again. Her breath caught.

Noa was there.

Slumped on the ground near the cycle, unmoving — the same knife he once carried was now pierced through his own chest, blood trickling in a thin line down his shirt.

His eyes were still open... but lifeless.

Jiya (shaking):

"Noa...?"

She stepped closer, knees weak, her fingers trembling as she reached out.

Noa’s skin was cold.

His lifeless eyes stared upward.

There was no pulse.

And beside him — faintly scribbled in blood on the cracked court surface:

“Not me. He made me.”

Jiya’s breath caught.

Her chest tightened.

Then—

A sharp, burning pain tore through her scar.

Her body jolted.

She clutched her side, gasping. The mark on her skin — hidden beneath her clothes — began to glow golden, pulsing like a heartbeat.

And then—

A dark golden burst of light exploded from her, swirling like a fierce wind cloaked in warmth. The glow wrapped around her, forming a soft, protective blanket of magic that lifted her slightly from the ground.

Every bruise, every cut the guard had inflicted —

Healed.

Her breathing calmed. But her eyes fluttered… and in the next second—

She blacked out, gently floating within the glow.

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Rudra stepped closer.

His red cloak drifted behind him like smoke. He stood above her, gaze softening for the first time.

He knelt down, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.

Rudra murmuring in an ancient tongue.

A soft light shimmered over her forehead. Her breathing evened.

The glow dimmed.

With that, Rudra whispered to the night, sealing her pain, her fear — and every detail of what she had just witnessed.

The university.

The blood.

Noa.

The truth.

Erased.

He gently lifted her in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder.

His voice low.

Almost a promise.

Rudra:

"You weren’t meant to carry this burden... not yet."

And as the moon cast silver light on the quiet court, he walked — silent, sure — carrying her back to her dorm, leaving behind the blood, the secrets…

…and a war that hadn’t even begun.

Next moment she was in her room. Slowly she blink.

Sitting at her desk under a single warm bulb, she scribbled hastily in her notebook — her mind racing faster than her pen.

Something felt off.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she paused, glancing at the page. Her handwriting had started neat… but now it was jagged, frenzied — like she had been writing in fear.

She stared at the clock.

2:17 AM.

Her scar, the one hidden beneath her clothes, gave a dull throb. A flicker of gold shimmered faintly — so faint she thought she imagined it.

Jiya (whispering):

"What… happened tonight?"

She clearly remembered sitting down to write.

She remembered feeling the urge to go to the university office.

She remembered…

Nothing after that.

A sudden, inexplicable gap in her memory.

She blinked, heart pacing.

Notebook (scribbled words):

"Go now… the documents… Tina… Noa… RUN..."

Jiya’s eyes widened.

She didn’t remember writing that.

Not a single line.

A chill crawled down her spine.

She stood slowly, feeling a strange soreness in her body — as if she had been running, fighting, falling… But how?

Her window was slightly open.

The night air whispered in.

Far away, the echo of a bicycle bell rang.

A flicker — a boy’s pale face in her mind — Noa?

Jiya gasped.

And then… nothing.

Her mind shut the image out like a slammed door.

She staggered back, breath quick.

Jiya (to herself):

"No. Something happened… I just can’t remember."

Behind her, the scar pulsed once — gold light under her skin — then faded completely.

Fa stirs, yawning groggily as she gets up for a glass of water.

Fa (yawning): "Jiya, aren’t you going to sleep?"

Jiya (from her bed): "I’m coming..."

Both girls eventually drift off to sleep.