Sketching her Shadows

Satya pushed open the heavy door, the rusted hinges groaning in protest. A wave of cold air rushed past him, carrying whispers of a forgotten past. The chamber was dimly lit by the moon filtering through cracks in the ceiling, casting eerie patterns on the floor.

As he stepped inside, an overwhelming sense of déjà vu gripped him. His breath hitched. I've been here before.

The walls bore deep scratches, as if someone had tried to escape. Chains hung from the far corner, their metal rusted but still intact. His fingers trembled as he touched them—then suddenly, his vision blurred, and the world around him shifted.

Fragments of a Lost Life

A sharp pain shot through his wrists as cold iron bit into his skin. He was no longer in the present—he was there, in the past.

He saw himself, younger, dressed in simple yet worn clothes, his face smeared with sweat and dirt. His hands were bound, his body weak from hunger. Across the room, guards stood, their faces shadowed.

"You dared to love someone beyond your status," a voice boomed.

A nobleman stepped forward—an older man with piercing eyes filled with contempt. The head of the Rathore family.

"A mere artist thinking he could belong to royalty?" the man scoffed. "You were given a gift, yet you used it to disgrace our name."

Satya—no, his past self—struggled against his restraints.

"You don't understand," he rasped. "I love her. And she loves me."

The nobleman's expression darkened. "Love?" he spat the word like poison. "You speak of love as if it holds any power here. Meera is meant for a future far beyond a mere artist."

The past Satya clenched his fists, his heart pounding. "Then why does she keep coming back to me?"

The nobleman's eyes flickered with something dangerous. Then, without warning, he turned to the guards. "Teach him the cost of defying us."

Pain erupted in Satya's body as blows rained down. The world spun, his strength failing. But through the agony, one thought remained clear.

Meera…

She was out there. And she was in danger.

The Past Collides with the Present

Satya gasped, snapping back to the present. His knees buckled, and he clutched his chest as if the pain had followed him through time. His breathing was ragged, his mind racing.

He had been held captive in this very chamber.

Because he loved Meera.

Because their love was never meant to be.

His heart ached, but there was no time to dwell in sorrow. This memory—this proof—meant something. He wasn't losing his mind. His dreams, his sketches, his unexplainable connection to Meera—it was all real.

Now, he needed to know the rest.

What happened to him?

And what happened to Meera?

His search was far from over.