Chapter 1: The End of a Life, The Beginning of Another

The golden rays of the setting sun bathed the grand palace in hues of orange and red. The sprawling marble structure, adorned with intricate carvings and vibrant murals, stood as a testament to the glory of the Yadavendra dynasty. The palace gardens, with their manicured hedges and blooming flowers, spread out like a vibrant carpet around the palace. The soft rustle of the evening breeze carried the faint scent of jasmine and roses, blending with the distant hum of temple bells.

In the open courtyard, I stood, gripping my sword tightly. The white anarkali I wore, simple yet elegant, swayed with every movement. Its soft fabric allowed me the flexibility I needed to practice my swordsmanship. The sweat trickling down my brow did not deter me; instead, it fueled my determination. Each swing of the blade was precise, every movement a testament to years of rigorous training.

"Rajkumari Aaradhyanshi!" a servant called out, bowing low. "Rajmata is calling for you."

I paused, lowering my sword and wiping my brow with the edge of my dupatta. My heartbeat slowed as I sheathed the blade and handed it to the servant. "Main abhi aati hoon (I’ll be there shortly)," I replied, my voice calm yet commanding.

Walking through the grand corridors of the palace, I admired the intricate designs on the walls. Each painting told a story of our dynasty’s legacy. My father, Maharaj Raghavendra , was a wise and just ruler, but the weight of the kingdom rested heavily on his aging shoulders. My dadi sa, the matriarch of our family, had been my pillar of strength. However, her health had deteriorated over the years, confining her to her bed.

As I entered her chamber, the familiar scent of sandalwood and medicinal herbs filled the air. The room was dimly lit, with a soft glow emanating from the oil lamps. Dadi sa lay on her grand bed, her frail form covered in a silk shawl. Despite her weakened state, her eyes held the same sharpness and wisdom that had always inspired me.

"Baitho, Aaradhyanshi," she said, her voice soft but firm. (Sit down, Aaradhyanshi.)

I sat beside her, holding her hand gently. "Aapne mujhe bulaya, Dadi sa?" (You called for me, Dadi sa?)

She nodded, a faint smile gracing her lips. "Ek cheez hai jo mujhe tumhe deni hai. Yeh har peedhi ki Rajkumari ko diya jaata hai." (There is something I must give you. This is passed down to the princess of each generation.)

From beneath her pillow, she pulled out a locket. It was unlike anything I had seen before—crafted with intricate details, it had a watch-like mechanism and a red ruby at its center. I recognized it instantly; she had worn it all her life.

"Yeh tumhara hai ab. Isme ek raaz chhupa hai jo tumhe samay ke saath samajh aayega," she whispered, fastening the locket around my neck. (This is yours now. It holds a secret that you will understand with time.)

I looked at her, puzzled. "Kya raaz, Dadi sa?" (What secret, Dadi sa?)

She smiled faintly, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Ek aur zindagi... ab tumhari baari hai." (Another life... now it’s your turn.)

Before I could question her further, a knock on the door interrupted us. A soldier entered, bowing deeply. "Rajkumari, padosi rajya Vijaygarh ne yudh ki ghoshna ki hai." (Princess, the neighboring kingdom of Vijaygarh has declared war.)

Anger surged through me. "Vijaygarh ke Rajkumar Virendra Thakur se kabhi shanti ki asha nahi thi," I muttered, rising to my feet. (There was never hope for peace with Prince Virendra Thakur of Vijaygarh.)

I bid a hurried farewell to Dadi sa, assuring her of my safety, and strode to the soldiers’ quarters. My voice rang with authority as I gave them orders to prepare for battle. They bowed, their loyalty evident in their unwavering gazes.

In my chambers, I donned my soldier's attire—a sturdy armor over a simple tunic, paired with a helmet and boots. As I looked at myself in the mirror, a sense of finality washed over me. "Aaj yeh yudh Vijaygarh ke liye antim sabit hoga," I vowed. (Today, this war will be the end for Vijaygarh.)

My father tried to stop me, his voice filled with concern. "Aaradhyanshi, tumhara jaana zaroori nahi hai," he pleaded. (Aaradhyanshi, it’s not necessary for you to go.)

But I placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Aap mujhe rok nahi sakte, Pita ji. Aapka swasthya iss yudh ke liye anukool nahi hai," I said firmly. (You cannot stop me, Father. Your health is not suitable for this war.)

The battlefield was a cacophony of clashing swords and war cries. I fought with precision and courage, my every move calculated. Victory seemed within reach as I faced the enemy general. But betrayal struck like a thunderbolt—a sword pierced through my side.

I turned to see one of my own generals, his face pale with fear. Betrayal burned more than the wound. Yet, I stood tall, refusing to kneel. And then, he appeared—Prince Virendra Thakur, his expression cold and emotionless.

"You," I spat, hatred lacing my voice.

Without a word, he struck the final blow. As my vision blurred, I thought of my father and Dadi sa. "Yeh anth hai," I whispered as darkness consumed me. (This is the end.)

When I opened my eyes again, the sounds of war had vanished. Instead, I heard the soft chants of mantras and the distant ringing of temple bells. I was submerged in water, the coolness enveloping me. Panicking, I swam to the surface and gasped for air.

The sight before me was unlike anything I had seen. People dressed in strange clothes stood by the riverbank, performing aarti. I read the sign on the ghat: Manikarnika Ghat,  and the year on the picture was 2024.

But that wasn't the problem right now ! I found myself in the middle of the water drowning !

Gasping, I found myself submerged in the river . Emerging, I swam to the shore, where an aarti was being performed. The year 2024 was written on a banner.

Confused and disoriented, I stumbled onto the ghats of Manikarnika, surrounded by burning pyres. The modern attire of the people and the sight of electric lights left me bewildered.

A gentle tap on my shoulder made me turn. A young woman stood there, worry etched on her face. Before I could speak, everything went black.

Confusion and disbelief filled me as I took in my surroundings. Was this a dream? How was I alive?

The surrounding was silent, save for the occasional rustle of the curtains swaying gently in the breeze. I sat on the bed, my fingers tracing the delicate embroidery of the  fresh dried white anarkali I wore. The woman before me, Tanishka, had been staring at me for what felt like an eternity, her eyes wide with confusion and a tinge of fear.

"I told you," I said, my voice calm but firm, "I am not your Aaradhya. My name is Aaradhyanshi Raghavendra, Princess of—"

"Stop it!" she interrupted, her voice trembling. "Why are you talking like this? You’re scaring me! Why are you behaving like you're someone else and that too aaradhyanshi ? Don't  you recognise me I'm Tanishka ? "

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You won’t believe me unless I prove it, will you?"

Her brows furrowed, and she crossed her arms. "Prove what? That you’re a princess from some... past life? That now you're that what you have been dreaming for years . You sound ridiculous!"   What?

I glanced around the room, my eyes landing on a fruit basket on the side table. An idea struck me. Without a word, I grabbed the small knife lying beside the basket. Tanishka took a step back, her face turning pale.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice shaky.

I ignored her, picking up an apple from the basket. Holding it up, I looked her in the eye. "Did your Aaradhya know how to do this?"

Before she could respond, I tossed the apple into the air and, with a swift flick of my wrist, hurled the knife. The blade spun through the air and struck the apple mid-flight, pinning it to the wooden door with a loud thud.

Tanishka gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Her eyes darted between the apple and me, disbelief etched on her face.

"How... how did you do that?" she whispered.

I walked over to the door, pulling the knife out with ease. Holding it up, I said, "Because I’m not Aaradhya. I am Aaradhyanshi, trained in the art of war, in swordsmanship, and in precision."

She stared at me, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, she managed to stammer, "Aaradhya... she couldn’t even hold a knife properly. She was terrified of weapons."

"Exactly," I said, placing the knife back on the table. "I told you I’m not her."

Tanishka sank onto the bed, her hands trembling. "This... this doesn’t make sense. If you’re Aaradhyanshi, then where is Aaradhya? What happened to her?"

I sat beside her, my tone softening. "I don’t know. I don’t even know how I ended up here or why I’m in her body. But one thing is certain—this isn’t my time."

She looked at me, tears brimming in her eyes. "You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re really not... her?"

I nodded solemnly. "Yes. I don't know how but if I’m here, there must be a reason."

I gave her a small smile. "But first, I need to return to where it all began—the Manikarnika Ghat."

Her eyes widened. "Now? In the middle of the night?"

I stood, determination burning in my chest. "Yes. If I’m to understand what happened, I need to go back."

Tanishka hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright. Let’s go."

We sat in silence, the weight of unspoken questions pressing down on us.  My mind swirled with confusion, and I could sense that Tanishka was no different. Her face, pale and drawn, betrayed her inner turmoil.

I had learned her name—Tanishka khurana . A modern name, yet it held a timeless quality. She seemed like someone who had seen too much and yet was too young to bear it all.

Breaking the silence, I asked the question that had been gnawing at me since I woke up in this strange world. “What was your friend doing in the water at night?”

Her head snapped toward me, her eyes wide with shock. “Water? What do you mean?”

I furrowed my brows, confused by her reaction. “When I opened my eyes, I was in the water,” I explained, my tone calm but insistent.

Her expression shifted from confusion to disbelief. “How did you come to the shore?” she asked, her voice trembling. “When I saw you, you were completely wet.”

I tilted my head slightly, wondering why this seemed so strange to her. “I swam to the shore,” I said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Her reaction was anything but calm. She stared at me, her mouth slightly agape. “Aaradhya didn’t know how to swim,” she whispered, more to herself than to me.

A small smile tugged at my lips. “Now do you believe me when I say I’m not Aaradhya?”

She nodded slowly, her shock still evident. “I don’t understand this,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

I hesitated before voicing the thought that had been forming in my mind. “After thinking about it… maybe Aaradhya is dead.”

Her reaction was immediate. Her eyes filled with tears, and her face crumpled in anguish. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, no, no.”

I remained silent as she broke down, tears streaming down her face. Her sobs echoed ,  a sound so raw and painful that it tugged at something deep within me. I knew what it felt like to lose someone close, to feel the unbearable weight of grief.

The whole night passed like this. She cried, and I sat there, silent and unmoving, giving her the space she needed. The first rays of sunlight began to filter  through the horizon , casting a warm glow over the room. Slowly, her sobs subsided, and she wiped her tear-streaked face.

Finally, she spoke, her voice hoarse from crying. “Maybe… maybe it’s for the best. She always wanted this.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, confused. “What do you mean? She wanted to die?”

Tanishka nodded, her gaze distant. “She… she talked about it sometimes. About how tired she was. About how she didn’t feel like she belonged anywhere. Maybe… last night, she finally got what she wanted. And at the same time, you came here.”

Her words hit me like a blow. I stared at her, trying to process what she had just said. “Don’t you hate me?” I asked after a long pause. “That I’m in your friend’s body?”

She looked at me, her expression conflicted. After a pause , she shook her head. “I don’t hate you. This isn’t your fault.”

I frowned, still unable to understand her acceptance. “But how can you be so calm about this?”

Her voice wavered as she replied, “Because Aaradhya… she tried before. She tried to end her life before, but she always survived. Maybe this time, she didn’t. And if she’s gone, maybe it’s fate that brought you here instead.”

I took a deep breath, her words settling heavily in my chest. If Aaradhya was truly gone, then I was here in her place. And for now, I had no way of going back. I had to adapt.

“I need to know everything about her,” I said firmly. “About this time, this world, and why she wanted to end her life.”

Tanishka hesitated before nodding. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

I met her gaze, my voice softening. “Tanishka, I know I can never be the friend she was to you. But I promise, as long as I’m here, I’ll do my best to help her in any way I can. Even if it’s just by being alive in her body.”

Her eyes filled with tears again, but this time, she managed a small smile. “I still don’t understand what’s happening, but… I believe in Mahadev. If this is his will, then I’ll accept it.”

I nodded, a sense of determination settling over me. “Then let’s begin.”

And so, my journey into Aaradhya Rathore’s life began—a life I didn’t understand, in a world that wasn’t mine. But if fate had placed me here, I would honor it.