The Purani Ranjdhani, now in sight, was a breathtaking vista of untouched beauty, its serene lake reflecting the twilight like a mirror to another world.

"Waah, Arnav-ji. Ye kitna sundar hai," she breathed out in awe, her eyes reflecting the shimmering waters.

(Wow, Arnav-ji. This is o beautiful.)

They soon spotted the Lotus, its petals glowing with an ethereal light, nestled among the reeds. With a gentle touch, Khushi picked it up, her heart fluttering with triumph.

"Mil gayi," she squealed, her voice a mix of relief and joy.

(We found it)

The Lotus was the key, and they were now tantalizingly close to their goal. The only task remaining was to place it in the witch's hair — a deed easier said than done.

As they ventured deeper into the woods, the shadows grew longer, and an eerie silence fell upon them. The cave's mouth yawned wide, an abyss waiting to swallow them whole.

"Hey Devimaiyya, raksha karna," she whispered a fervent prayer, her grip tightening on Arnav's arm.

Inside, they found Morwenna, the witch, as young as twenty, sat, her eyes closed, her chants filling the air with a sinister energy. Khushi's palms were slick with perspiration, her fear palpable. She clutches her husband's arms seeking protection. Lotus, in her hands, was away from the sight of Morwenna. Arnav wrapped his arms around her shielding her from the darkness that loomed.

Morwenna's eyes snapped open, a furious fire burning within. Her sanctuary invaded, her concentration broken.

Unacceptable.

She seethed with anger.

How dare someone enter her cave and disturb her while she's busy casting spells, accumulating her powers and dark magic?

Her gaze fell on two souls, fresh and pure. Her eyes glinted with greed, for every single soul was valuable to her. She used them to attain immortality, to amass more power, and to weave her dark tapestry across the ages. Each soul was a thread, a source of life force that she twisted into her own essence, fortifying her existence, stretching it beyond the natural order. In this way, she remained, a specter of the past, haunting the present, always hungering for the next soul to sustain her endless twilight.

A true witch, feeding on souls, trapping them in her confines, she was a master of the dark arts, a collector of the purest essences.

Arnav and Khushi could read her eyes. She started her spells. They looked around. The cave is full of vessels.

Vessels that contained souls, like Arjuna and Ariyana.

Surprisingly, her spells were not working on them. She grew furious. And before she could cast another spell, Arnav stepped forward with the Lotus in his hand, hiding behind his back. Khushi followed Arnav and while Morwenna increased her pace with spells, closing her eyes for the effect, Arnav placed the Lotus in unsuspecting Morwenna's hair.

The effect was instantaneous. The witch's spells turned into a scream as her powers began to wane, her hold on the spells, the souls, and the earth dissolving into nothingness.

Khushi clutched Arnav in fear, looking at Morwenna turning into ashes, and then nothing was visible of her, except for the vessels that seemed broken.

As the last remnants of Morwenna's curse dissipated, souls once bound by her dark magic found freedom. Among them was Arjuna, whose spirit had been shackled in torment for far too long. With a sense of closure, Arnav and Khushi prepared to return to the community hall, Arjuna's liberated soul accompanying them, a silent witness to his own salvation.

Just beyond the edge of the bewitched hall, they encountered Princess Ariyana. Her presence, free from the confines, the curse had truly lifted.

"Hume maaf kar dijiye, Ariyana. Agar hum thoda sa — " Interrupting him with an understanding smile, Ariyana placed a finger on his lips.

(Please forgive me, Ariyana. If I was just a little—)

"Isme aap ki koi galti nahi thi, Arjuna. Aapko maafi maangne ki zarurat nahi hai." She said, her lips brushing his forehead in a tender kiss.

(It wasn't your fault, Arjuna. There's no need for you to apologize.)

Their embrace was a poignant scene, a reunion centuries in the making. The longing to be in each other's arms was now a reality, their embrace a symbol of enduring love.

Princess Ariyana and Prince Arjuna were reunited.

"Hume pata tha, aap dono zarur hume aazadi dogi," Ariyana said, her eyes glistening with tears of joy as she looked at Arnav and Khushi with heartfelt gratitude.

(I knew you both would surely grant us freedom)

"Humne kuch nahi kiya, Ariyana-ji. Aapka pyaar sachha hai bas," Khushi's smile was a gentle curve on her lips, her belief in the purity of Ariyana's love unwavering.

(We haven't done anything, Ariyana-ji. It's just that your love is true.)

Arjuna Eashan stood by, his presence quiet but solid, much like Arnav, both men observers.

"Aur ab humari baari hai," she declared, her smile cryptic, sparking confusion in Arnav and Khushi's eyes.

(And now it's my turn,)

"What do you mean by that?" Arnav asked, his brow furrowed, a frown etching his features as he tried to decipher her intentions.

Khushi's mind raced, piecing together forgotten conversations. She had asked for the identity of the one who had brought death upon her and her husband, a truth Ariyana had vowed to reveal only after her tale was told.

"Aap jaan na chahte the na, ki aapko maara kisne?" Ariyana's voice was soft, yet it carried the weight of unspoken secrets.

(You wanted to know who killed you, didn't you?)

"Kisne?" The word slipped from Khushi's lips, her curiosity a living thing, and Arnav's expression mirrored her own, a silent scream for answers.

(Who?)

"Bas dekte rahiye ga aur jo apna dil kehta hai, usko hi suniyega. Aapko pata chalega kisne maara hai aap dono ko." Ariyana's words were a puzzle.

(Just keep watching and listen to what your heart says. You will find out who killed both of you.)

She remembered the Yogi's words.

"Aur vakt ko tum unhe lauta sakte ho, apne aap ko, apne premi ko paate hi."

(And you can return them their time, after finding yourself and your lover.)

It is finally time.

Arjuna, hand in hand, stepped gracefully into the portrait. The figures in the painting seemed to come alive, welcoming the pair back into their painted world, and just as quickly, the two vanished from sight, leaving behind a wondering couple.

"Ariyan-" Khushi's call was abruptly cut.

Nani's voice carried out to him gently as he unloaded the bags from the car trunk. "Chotte," she beckoned, her tone affectionate yet commanding. She extended her hand with a warm smile, emphasizing her request, "Zara gaadi ki chaabi dijiye," her smile broadening, she emphasized, "dijiye."

(Please give me the car keys, give it).

Arnav, with a furrow of confusion etching his brow, handed over the keys. Wasn't he dead?

Devyani, with a mischievous twinkle dancing in her eyes, accepted them with a sweet smile. She then turned, keys in hand, and strolled away.

Arnav, his confusion lingering, noticed Khushi reaching for the bags. He quickly intervened, "Tum Rehne do, me utha lunga," his voice firm yet gentle, insisting on shouldering the load himself.

(Let it be, I'll take them)

Khushi's words were laced with taunt, "Rehne Dijiye, aapko apna gamad ka wajan bhi toh doondna padega," she said, her voice carrying a jab at him, "hum utha lete hai" She continued, her frown gradually faded into a shock, reflecting a sudden turn of emotions.

(Leave it, you also have to find the weight of your own ego too. I'll get them.)

Arnav's eyes mirrored Khushi's — both wide with shock, a silent question flickering between them. What were they doing here? Weren't they dead? Weren't they with Princess Ariyana Indu and Prince Arjuna Eashan moments before? The reality they knew seemed to have shifted, leaving them adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

"Hum yaha kya kar rahe hai?" Her voice was a whisper, barely louder than the rustle of her dress.

(What are we doing here?)

Arnav offered no answers, only a shrug that spoke volumes of his own bewilderment. He patted down his suit, the fabric familiar, the same he had donned before the Heer-Ranjha drama. Khushi, too, was dressed as before, her attire unchanged.

What was that? A shared dream? The thought was as unsettling as it was impossible. How could they both have dreamt the same vivid illusion? Their minds grappled with the question, searching for a foothold in the strange narrative that had unfolded.

As if to dispel their bewilderment, a gust of wind rustled through the trees, sending a large leaf fluttering down upon them. Arnav reached out and caught it.

"Ye koi sapna nahi hai, humne aapse aapka vakt churaya aur usiko humne lauta diya. — Yuvarani Ariyana Indu Devi."

(This is not a dream, I stole your time from you and now I have returned it. — Yuvarani Ariyana Indu Devi.)

As quickly as the leaf had made its serendipitous appearance, it was gone, whisked away by the capricious breeze as swiftly as it had arrived.

They are back in time!

But before they could delve deeper into their thoughts, a whisper sliced through the silence, a soft sound that seemed to beckon them, promising answers or perhaps more riddles. The whisper was a thread, pulling them towards a truth yet to be unraveled.

"Haan? Will mil gayi?" Shyam's hushed whisper broke the silence, instantly drawing Arnav and Khushi's gaze. The quiet urgency in his voice was enough to pique their curiosity and grow their suspicion.

(Yeah, got the Will?)

"Bas dekte rahiye ga aur jo apna dil kehta hai, usko hi suniyega. Aapko pata chalega kisne maara hai aap dono ko."

(Just keep watching and listen to what your heart says. You will find out who killed both of you.)

They were on the verge of tailing Shyam when they noticed him abruptly end his call, his attention snapped away by Anjali's sudden appearance.

Arnav's jaw clenched in fury, his mind racing with suspicion. "What is that scoundrel up to?" he seethed silently.

"Arnav-ji, hume unpe nazar rakhni padegi." Khushi proposed, her voice low.

(Arnav-ji, we need to keep an eye on him)

Arnav gave a curt nod in agreement, and together they made their way into the hall.

Devyani, observing her grandson walking up to her, subtly concealed the keys from view. "Nani — " Arnav began, but Devyani swiftly interrupted him, anticipating his inquiry.

She thought he was going to ask her for the keys and so she declared preemptively, bracing herself for his usual protest, "Keys nahi milenge, Chotte."

(You won't get the keys, Chotte)

She was awaiting a tantrum but to her astonishment, Arnav's response defied her expectations. "I wasn't going to ask about the keys, Nani. Just forget it," he stated calmly, leaving her momentarily taken aback by his uncharacteristic indifference.

Arnav clutched Khushi's hands and walked deep in leaving a shocked Devyani behind.

Arnav's grip on Khushi's hand tightened as they ventured deeper into the venue, leaving behind a bewildered Devyani.

"Ye humare Chotte hi hai na?" Her voice tinged with disbelief, she murmured to herself and even pinched herself, as if to confirm the reality before her eyes.

(Is this really our little one?)

Inside the hall, Anjali shared her excitement with her husband, "Aapko pata hai, aaj humne aur Nani ne milke aik plan banayi hai. Chotte aur Khushi-ji dono Heer-Ranjhe ka drama karenge aaj stage pe," her face alight with the joy of anticipation, picturing her brother and sister-in-law in the roles of the legendary lovers, Heer and Ranjha, oblivious to the cunning glint in her husband's eyes.

(Do you know, today Nani and I have made a plan together. Chotte and Khushi-ji will both act out the drama of Heer-Ranjha on stage today)

Her husband mulling over the perfect plan that had just crystallized in his mind after what his Rani Sahiba had said, smiled at his beaming wife, "Rani Sahiba, hume baitna chahiye, chaliye," he suggested, steering her towards the seating area.

(Rani Sahiba, we should sit down, come along)

Seizing an opportunity after a few minutes, he feigned a phone call to slip away from the gathering.

Arnav and Khushi, who had gone unnoticed by him, stealthily trailed him to a room adjacent to the backstage. Concealed behind a pillar, the couple spied on Shyam, their presence undetected.

He was talking on the phone.

Though Arnav and Khushi couldn't make out his words, the cunning smirk on his face was unmistakable.

"Khushi Bitiya." The familiar call from afar from their Nani caused both Arnav and Khushi to startle, their attention snapping back.

Shyam made a hasty exit cutting the call. Meanwhile, Arnav and Khushi began to step out from their hiding spot behind the pillars, attempting to blend back into the scene casually.

However, their exit was anything but graceful. Khushi, as always, in her haste, collided with a curtain, sending the curtain holders swinging perilously and herself flailing on the floor.

But Arnav, in a reflexive act of protection, reached out to hold her before she fell, only to be struck on the forehead by the curtain holder. The impact left him wincing in silence.

With swift concern, Khushi cradled Arnav's face between her palms, her fingers gently massaging the spot on his forehead. "Aap teek hai?" she asked, her voice laced with worry, as she searched his forehead for any sign of serious injury.

(Are you alright?)

Arnav, meanwhile was lost in her eyes, forgetting his pain. "Zyada dard ho raha hai kya?" Khushi inquired, her breath warm against his skin as she exhaled softly over his forehead, seeking to soothe the pain with her tender ministrations.

(Is it hurting a lot?)

Rabba Ve Rabba Ve

Khushi lost herself in his eyes too, forgetting her worry.

She was about to fall again. Arnav's arms were there to catch her again, pulling her close in a protective embrace. The force of their collision sent the curtains cascading down around them, enveloping the pair in a secluded cocoon. It was as if the drapes themselves were concealing their pure love from the world of evil.

The call was closer this time, snapping them back to reality. The presence of her steps pulled them from their secluded moment back into the world around them.

"Khushi Bitiya," Nani called out.

"Aye Chikni Chameli, chupke akeli.."

"Aww. Chikni Chameli? Hume jaake sunna hi hoga," she exclaimed, her feet carrying her swiftly towards the sidestage, leaving Arnav in a state of bemused shock. He watched, a tender smile playing on his lips, as she lost herself in the dance, her movements full of joy. Devyani, not far behind, joined in the revelry, their laughter mingling with the rhythm. Even his Mami couldn't help but be swept up in the moment.

(Aww. Chikni Chameli? I must go listen)

Arnav could only shake his head in fond exasperation.

Women in his life are absolutely crazy!

He found himself captivated, gazing at Khushi with an adoration that filled his entire being. Her smiling face, the graceful arcs of her weaving hair, and the sparkle of joy in her eyes were such a vision, like a drop of water in the desert of his eyes, that he cherished deeply.

Manorama realising with whom she's dancing walked away in her catwalk. Devyani went to talk with Moti Lal, for, her costume hadn't arrived yet.

The song changed to a romantic one — Tu Hi Mera

Khushi was dancing, grooving to the song. Arnav had given her lost earring losing himself in her hazels again. However, he had to walk away soon, his mind on more pressing matters, to keep a vigilant eye on Shyam.

Khushi, catching sight of Arnav's retreating figure, chastised herself with a light tap on her forehead, "Tu pagal hai, Khushi."

They had to follow their hearts. Keep a watch over Shyam.

(You're crazy, Khushi.)

In her typical fashion, she hurried after Arnav, only to bump into his back when he stopped abruptly. Her nose turned a telltale shade of red from the impact.

"Khushi, lagi kya?" Arnav inquired, his voice low, concern lacing his voice as he tenderly rubbed her nose. Khushi hissed in pain.

(Khushi, are you hurt?)

"Dekh ke nahi chal sakti tum?" he chided, a hint of irritation, concern, and adoration in his tone.

(Can't you watch where you're going?)

His words unnerved her. "Aap sudden break nahi lagate toh nahi lagti, laad governer. Aage kya speed breaker tha ki aise ruk gaye," she retorted, her words a mix of annoyance and jest.

(If you hadn't stopped so suddenly, this wouldn't have happened, lord governor. Was there a speed breaker ahead that you stopped like this?)

"Shh. Slowly," he cautioned her, his hand gesturing subtly towards Shyam, who was making his way to the trial room from the opposite direction. Their mission to keep tabs on him was still very much in play.

(Shh. Quietly,)

Khushi kept her silence but she'd deal with him later for sure.

They watched as he tampered with a bag Devyani had brought, his hands deftly opening what appeared to be a sweet box and surreptitiously adding something to it.

"I'm sorry, Khushi-ji. Hum aapko bilkul bhi nahi maarna chahte hai, par kya kare, yahi aik mouka hai Arnav ko maarne ka, aur kisiko humpe shak bhi na aayega. Kyunki ye mithai khud Arnav ke Di aur Nani ne laaye. Aur ab hume Arnav ki koi zarurat bhi nahi, unki zhaydad jo humare pyaare Rani Saheba ke naam pe hai." Shyam muttered to himself, oblivious to the two figures concealed behind a pillar. 

His Rani Saheba, in her excitement, had even mentioned that she brought sugar-free sweets for her brother because he was supposed to eat a small amount during the drama they were going to enact. Shyam had been plotting ever since he received a call from his source about Arnav's will, which would be executed upon his death. If it was in Anjali's name, he could easily persuade her to transfer it to his name. But for that to happen, Arnav had to die, and no one should suspect him. From the moment he entered the community hall, he had been thinking of various ways. Anjali gave him a good chance, the safest and easiest one. 

He had chosen the safest option, to kill him in a place where anyone could have tampered with anything, and, fortunately, the trial room had no CCTV cameras.

(I'm sorry, Khushi-ji. I really don't want to kill you, but what can I do? This is the only chance to kill Arnav, and no one will suspect me. After all, the sweets were brought by Arnav's own sister and grandmother. And now, I have no need for Arnav, since his property is in the name of my beloved Rani Saheba)

"What a fool!" Arnav silently scoffed in his head. He had a second will, and even a third, for that matter. Only the last one would be executed if anything ever happened to him. It's impossible for anyone to reach his second or third will, except for him. No one else has access.

Meanwhile, Khushi felt a wave of revulsion for Shyam and imagined a hundred ways to end him without facing jail time.

She should have hit him with a Chandelier instead of a small ball. She regretted not using her chance.

"Aur waise bhi, Khushi-ji, agar aap humare nahi ho sakte, toh kisi aur ke bhi nahi ho sakte," Shyam whispered to himself, a sly grin plastered on his face. Khushi should have been his, but if she wasn't, then she shouldn't belong to anyone else. In this twisted game, she would die too, and that was the only thing he felt bad about. True, he loved Khushi, but he also wanted the property. Given the choice between Khushi and the property, he would always choose the property.

(And anyway, Khushi-ji, if you can't be mine, then you can't be anyone else's)

Arnav's hands clenched into tight fists, his mind seething with a hundred imagined retributions. Behind him, Khushi clutched her husband's arms, seeking protection in his cocoon. The vile words spewed by Shyam stirred a wave of nausea within her.

He smirked, "Ab ye saari zhaydad humara hai. Kaash humare paas choice rehta aapko na maarne. Lekin kya kare, ab aap uss Arnav ke saath Heer-Ranjha khelne ka itna shauk hai toh, hum kuch kar nahi sakte, Khuhsi-ji. Maaf kar dijiye."

(Now all this property is mine. I wish I had the option not to kill you. But what can I do, if you are so eager to play Heer-Ranjha with that Arnav, I am helpless, Khushi. Please forgive me.)

Upon noticing the arrival of several people into the room, Shyam discreetly made his exit, blending into the background as he retreated from the scene.

Khushi hurried into the room, and Arnav, wasting no time, seized the sweet box and disposed of its contents in the toilet, ensuring that the tainted sweets would harm no one.

Khushi's lips formed a pout, her disappointment evident. "Ab hume drama ke liye kya khayenge?" she lamented.

(Now what will we eat during drama?)

Arnav's frown deepened as he questioned the necessity of their performance. "Drama karna zaruri hai?" he queried, his tone laced with skepticism. They're alive now. They had been given a second chance at life; Princess Ariyana had returned their time and they even know who killed them. What's the need?

(Is the drama really necessary?)

"Humne apna naam de diye, Arnav-ji." Khushi retorted with a glare, her determination unwavering. She continued, a playful giggle escaping her, "Aur aapko bhi karna hi padega, Nani-ji aapko koi option nahi denge," she said, her amusement clear, knowing full well the outcome of the upcoming scenario. After all, they lived it all.

(I've already given our names, Arnav-ji, and you'll have to do it too. Nani-ji won't give you any other option,)

Arnav could only respond with an exasperated roll of his eyes, resigned to the whims of his Nani.

Khushi's eyes sparkled with joy as she eagerly grasped Arnav's arm, pulling him along. "Khushi, where are we going?" Arnav inquired, allowing himself to be led by her infectious enthusiasm.

To his surprise, she guided him to the side hall, a magical place where the portraits of Princess Ariyana and Prince Arjuna hung, now in peaceful repose. There, beneath the portraits, lay a neatly packed box of sweets. Khushi reached out and claimed it.

Arnav's expression clouded with concern. "And what if this is poisoned too?" he couldn't help but voice his worry aloud. Trust was a luxury they could ill afford; their life, which was almost like a rebirth, was too precious to squander.

"The pack isn't even opened, laad governor. It could only be poisoned by an army of ants," Khushi retorted with a dismissive scoff, her confidence unshaken on Princess Ariyana. She's sure anything from her is never a harm. Meanwhile, Arnav was just being practical. He can't lose a chance at life with Khushi.

As if in response to their doubts, a note materialized, as though dispelling their apprehensions once more.

"Ye mithai surakshit hai. Ye samaj lijiye ki ye humari tarah se chota sa thofa hai hume apna pyaar dene ke liye. — Yuvarani Ariyana Indu Devi"

The note read, its words a comforting assurance of safety.

(This sweet is safe. Consider this a small gift from me for returning my love. — Princess Ariyana Indu Devi)

They had finished substituting the tainted sweets with Kalakand.

"Par Arnav-ji, kalakand me sweet zyada hogi, agar aapko kuch hua toh?" She asked with concern, after checking the contents of the sweet box.

(But Arnav-ji, Kalakand is too sweet. What if something happens to you?)

"Toh Drama karte hi nahi, what do you say?" Arnav replied playfully, with a slight tease in his tone.

(Then we simply won't act, what do you say?)

"Laad governor kahika," Khushi exclaimed, her irritation evident as she hit him.

(Such a Lord governor.)

"Thoda sa khane se kuch nahi hota, Khushi." Arnav reassured her, trying to alleviate her worries.

(Eating a little bit won't do any harm, Khushi)

Devyani made her entrance right on cue.

"Khushi Bitiya," she beckoned, her voice laced with worry, "Ye dekhiye kya hogaya," showing her the bag of costumes.

(Look what has happened)

Arnav let out a sigh, he was waiting for this moment. He knew it was his Nani's drama.

"Vo nikamme Moti Lal galat poshak bhej diye, Heer-Ranjhe ke poshak bhej diye," she grumbled, falsely accusing the innocent man.

(That useless Moti Lal sent the wrong costumes, he sent the ones for Heer-Ranjha,)

"Ab kya?" Khushi inquired.

(Now what?)

"Aap ye pehen ke stage pe jaayiye, agla number humara hi hai. Hum kuch intezaam karte hai," Devyani instructed.

(Just wear this and go on stage, our number is next. I'll make some arrangements)

Khushi nodded, accepting the dress, knowing well that the intezaam Nani was talking about would be her Arnav-ji.

"Chotte," Devyani called to him, who was absorbed in watching his wife walk away.

"Ye dekhiye Chote, ye hum kaise pehen sakte hai," Devyani protested, showing him the costume meant for a male.

(Look at this, Chotte, how can I wear this?)

He narrowed his eyes, incredulous that his grandmother could make such silly plans to make them act as eternal lovers on the stage.

"Nani. Ranjha Male tha toh costume bhi male ka hi hoga na," he pointed out logically, frowning his eyebrows together, his eyes narrowing at his grandmother, his expression screaming oblivious.

(Nani, Ranjha was a male, so naturally, the costume would be for a male)

Devyani stood with a crestfallen expression, pondering for a moment before her hand slowly extended towards Arnav, "Ye aap pehen sakat hai."

(You can wear this.)

Her face lit up, prepared to endure his complaints and persuade him by any means necessary — be it threats or emotional blackmail.

But her grandson didn't give her the opportunity.

"Okay," he said nonchalantly, accepting the costume and walking off to change, leaving Devyani in utter shock, her face forming typical 3 O's.

It was the second time Arnav had taken his grandmother aback. He agreed so readily? Without any fuss or his typical 'what the...?' reaction?

.

.

.

.

"Jab jo bura kaha uska koi matlab nahi, jab jo bura kiya uska koi matlab nahi, iss pyaar me sahi aur galat ka koi matlab nahi, bas aik cheez ka matlab hai, ki me hamesha hamesha tumse...pyaar karta rahunga," Arnav whispered in her ears before falling beside her, with tears in his eyes.

A tear rolled down from Khushi's hazel too. 

This moment was their precious. One that united them. One that let them unite someone. 

(Whatever wrong I said doesn't mean anything, whatever wrong I did doesn't mean anything, right or wrong doesn't matter in this love, the only thing that matters is, I will forever and ever...keep loving you.)

The auditorium echoed with applause, a standing ovation for the poignant scene that had just unfolded. Arnav lay motionless beside Khushi, their performance nothing short of spectacular.

A few minutes later, the audience saw Khushi and Arnav getting up from the floor and bowing down with a small smile.

The misunderstandings that once clouded the air were now cleared, like the morning sun burning through fog.

And it was that togetherness that would be their armor against any storm.

Shyam stood shocked and confused and their gaze fell on him, their nemesis, who would be their next challenge. But that was a worry for the next day. They would throw him out, with evidence, for sure. For now, they reveled in the splendor of their victory; the truth had been revealed, justice served, liberty granted, serenity bestowed upon them, time restored, and the harmony it signified.

The portrait burned to ashes, ending the history it held. While it tensed people up, Arnav and Khushi smiled, joy dawning on them that the 'Khel' with time had succeeded.

They gave the Prince and Princess the freedom, and they were granted the time in return.

The stars outside seemed to twinkle, especially two, the two living souls of Ariyana Indu Devi and Arjuna Eashan, in celebration of their triumph, after having done with 'Khel' against evil.

The End

Regards,

Poly,

29-04-2024

My first time in the Fantasy Genre with time concepts. Apologies if I messed up somewhere. 

Let me know how was it.