Child of War, born of Destruction.

****

Time was slipping by.

Mrinjay's heart was burnt to ashes and mixed with his blood. Raktim drank it and wiped his mouth. Staring at his bloodied hands and clothes, he felt his skin melting and tightening, and his eyes twitching in an ominous way. These were all signs of him transforming back to human.

Mohini had tore a part of her saree and covered Maya's wound with it. She kept the detective close to her chest and chanted the Maha Mrityunjay Mantra with utmost devotion. After some time, she looked up at Raktim. "You have changed back to human. Let us leave. We need to treat Maya."

"I can't afford to lose her," Raktim said. "But I need to do one last job."

He took one vial with the blood of Mrinjay and poured it in the fire while taking the name of Kalika. The agitated fire groaned and flickered momentarily.

"It's done. The fire has been spoilt and Raktabeej's ritual destroyed. The demon has failed–"

Wind danced through the air, rustling leaves and tousling hair. Branches swayed in a rhythm and the sky showcased a dynamic display of clouds racing across the azure. Dust and debris whirled in gusts.

"Is it...is it a storm?" Mohini covered her face with her aanchal. Suddenly, she felt a numbing sensation at the back of her head. "Ugh... What is happening?" Everything spun in circles and looked hazy. Mohini fell to the ground, laying unconscious beside Maya.

Raktim watched the fire rise higher and higher, aiming for the skies. Lightning struck and thunder rumbled ominously, echoing through the air like distant drums. The wind howled, whipping through the trees and sending shivers down spines.

"Raktim..."

The dhampir knew no word to describe the contrasting kindness and wrath constituting that voice, the vastness of it and the cosmic depth ingrained in it. Out of the dancing fire emerged a vague outline of immense blue, so deep and dark like the night, and a pair of shining scarlet eyes.

Raktim couldn't believe what he saw. The four hands, the embellishments of skull and ashes, the tiger skin...

"My son, you have made me happy."

Raktim fell to his knees, tears brimming in his eyes. Quivering hands were joined in a namaskara and he touched his head to the ground. "Maa..." Goosebumps crawled over his skin. The ethereal starry beauty in front, dressed in the garment of midnight with the crescent moon adorning her thick locks, was someone whom he never thought of meeting. Saints and kings meditated to have one glance of her, and here he never expected to see her. But she came to him. She came, on her own.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Raktim, you have helped me in dwindling the strength of Raktabeej. By sacrificing the blood of Mrinjay to the fire by taking my name, you have liberated his soul, as well as removed the vampirism running in the Das family. They no longer will have to suffer through painful immortality. From now, they shall live as healthy humans, blessed with happiness and prosperity."

"Am...am I a good son?"

He died to hear this once in his life. He lost his mother before he could fathom her smile and his father never gave him importance. If, if Kalika would grant him the place of a child...

"You are a precious child of mine, Raktim. I am a mother. I love everyone. You are no different. My affections will always keep you warm."

His eyes glistened with joy as tears streamed down his face, reflecting the profound emotion that had captured his heart. A radiant smile graced his lips, and a soft, heartfelt laughter escaped between the tears. "Thank you, Maa. I love you too."

"Ask for three boons, my son."

Raktim took a deep breath. "Allow me to live and age as a human, but with the powers of a dhampir. I promise I shall not misuse my magic, and if I do, may fate give me the consequences."

"As you wish."

Raktim looked at Maya. "Next, I wish to love anyone I want, whether they be a human or not one. I do not require for them to always love me in return; it is, after all, their heart and their choice. But give me the freedom to shower my beloved with everything pretty and lovely."

Kalika smiled. "Bless you, Raktim."

"Lastly, grant Maya life. She is wounded badly. I-I don't want to lose her."

Kalika closed her eyes. A golden glow emanated out of Maya's body, and the wound vanished. "My protection shall be over you two."

"Is there something that I can do for you, Maa? Or something I need to know?"

"There's a torch beside the corpse of Ritabhari. Take it up and light it up."

Raktim did as asked. "Now?"

Kalika conjured a bowl of rice out of thin air. "Take it and touch it to the mouth of Mrinjay."

Raktim staggered back. The epiphany hit him. "You...you want me to do the last rites of Mrinjay?"

"He is a human now, so he shall leave this mortal world like them. And you are his brother, Raktim. You are his family."

"But...but he never considered me one."

"What use is abhorrence when the man is dead? In this earthly realm, enmity serves well only when life courses through the body. After a man dies, he isn't a foe or a friend. If you have to feel for him, keep it to a love that transcends humanity."

Raktim hung his head. Now when the words of Kalika enlightened his mind, he found it hard to stare at the dead body of Mrinjay. There was no skin or eyes, his heart was missing. He didn't even look human enough, just a mess of flesh and bones.

"No doubt Maya fainted. She will hate me now." Raktim flinched. "I am sorry, Maya."

He proceeded to touch the rice to the mouth of Mrinjay and then put the torch three times near his face.

"Bury him in the fire of the yagna," Kalika instructed.

Carrying his last remains, Raktim gently gave it to the fire, which at once engulfed it all like a hungry deity.

"Remember Raktim, you shall live as a human with all the capabilities of a dhampir, but one day, as you desire, you will have to die. And you will die for a cause that is me." With these words, Kalika vanished with the enormous smoke, leaving a mesmerized Raktim pondering about the future.

After some time, Mohini woke up, and was taken aback to see the injury on Maya's body was no more. Raktim, without wasting anymore time, assured her he would explain everything later. With Maya in his arms and Mohini following him, they headed for the Das mansion.

****

It was odd to find the door of the Das mansion open. Perhaps they knew no robber would dare to steal from their house, since they were the zamindars. If only the villagers knew the complete truth about their paranormal existence, they would have deserted Khatra.

Raktim and Mohini marched in and headed for the room of Maya. On the way, they collided with a sweating Khirodh. The girl had a bubbly smile on her face, but looked too tired. Fear diluted the happiness of her face when she saw the spots of blood on Raktim's attire and the sick Maya. "What has happened?"

"I will tell you everything later. Can you bring me some warm milk?"

"I was going to bring that only for Mrinmoyee. I shall arrange for two glasses."

"Why?" Raktim was confused. "Is she fine?"

"She gave birth."

Raktim gaped. Mohini was equally stunned. They exchanged shocked glances. "I wasn't ready to hear this," Raktim said. "But since I am here, I will definitely check on the mother and the baby."

Maya was laid down on her bed and Mohini attended to her. Khirodh gave her a glass of hot milk.

"Mohini, sprinkle some water on her face and assure her that everything is fine. I will back after inspecting Mrinmoyee."

When Raktim reached Mrinmoyee's room, she had been washed and was resting against the pillows. Khirodh fed Mrinmoyee the milk. Her hair was messy and unkempt, and her breaths were ragged. However, a smile lit up Mrinmoyee's face when she saw Raktim. "You came to see your sister."

"I have."

Piya noticed the bloody colour of Raktim's tunic. Glancing at the new mother, she realised the woman hadn't registered it in her head. She handed over the baby to Raktim. "It's a boy."

Raktim gently cradled the warm bundle of skin and life. It had a pinkish tint on the cheeks, and long hair that covered the forehead. The head looked odd and squished, a natural phenomenon after birth. The little button nose was cute. "He looks alright. No need to worry."

The mother's mirthless chuckle was a blow to the hearts of the onlookers. They remained silent, expecting for her to provide reason.

"Are you feeling unfulfilled?" Raktim went and sat beside her. "What troubles you?"

"That it's a boy. There's every chance that he will take upon his father."

"At least he won't curse you for birthing anything else." Piya scoffed. "Some men deserve to rot in the pits of their own prejudice."

"Where's Mrinjay?" Mrinmoyee asked.

The baby moaned in the hands of Raktim. His feathery touches tickled the cheeks of the baby, which calmed down at the sense of care. "You will dot on this child."

Mrinmoyee stiffened. "Where's Mrinjay?"

Piya took the baby from Raktim's hands. "You are not clean...so let me look after the baby."

Only when Piya declared it loud did Mrinmoyee observe Raktim's state. Her face turned yellow and she gave a yelp. "Did...did you fight someone? Did Mrinjay attack you and Maya?"

Raktim placed a hand upon her palm. "Mrinjay is dead. He is no more."

Khirodh's balance rocked and she wavered under the effect of the unfortunate news. Mrinmoyee's doe eyes were transformed into a void devoid of feelings and life. Each forgot to breathe, except Piya, who held onto the baby with all the strength she owned.

"No more girls are going to die in Khatra. No more injustice, but at the cost of your sindur, Mrinmoyee. I am sorry, for I am his killer."

Khirodh whimpered and broke down, leaning against the frame of the bed and mourning. Piya heaved a sigh and turned to the window, making sure the baby's sleep wasn't disturbed amidst the turmoil.

Unlike all, Mrinmoyee roared. Her hysterical laughter, suffused with an insane tinge of victory, permeated the air. It was a burst of crescendo of unrestrained joy dancing on the edge of madness. She patted the bedsheets and swung her legs. "I am free! I am free!"

"Be quiet, Mrinmoyee!" Khirodh chided. "Don't you understand you are a widow?"

"Oh at least there's one less of a characterless man! Now I only need to handle his offspring."

"Mind your words, Mrinmoyee," Raktim changed his tone. "Would you have said the same thing if this baby were a girl?"

Mrinmoyee kept mum.

"Well, Mrinmoyee, a baby is a baby, and as much as Mrinjay is, rather was his father, you are his mother. You carried him for nine months. You are whom he will consider a part of his body and soul first and foremost. Don't belittle his existence because of his gender. Then you are being no different from Mrinjay. Do you want to be called a mother who discriminates against her children because of their sex?"

Tears slid down Mrinmoyee's face and she heaved a disheartened sigh. "I don't want to be a bad mother, Raktim. It's just that the way Mrinjay kept on telling me that he wanted a son that now when I have indeed created one, it feels more like his gift than my own."

"For the initial years of their childhood, a baby cherishes their mother the most," Raktim said. "And her place remains unshaken over the years. A mother will always remain a mother."

Piya gave the baby to Mrinmoyee. "This is your son. Yours. And he will walk the path that you show him."

Mohini came running to the room. "I was searching for you everywhere! This mansion is too big!" She blew a breath. "Raktim, Maya is looking for you. And I see you haven't yet changed! I tell you, she is going to be spooked."

"Uh, I think I am going to take a bath in her washroom and then talk to her. Khirodh, please see that Mrinmoyee turns stable. She needs time to understand the situation. Everything was too sudden...and I think this is a trauma response."

"I-I will." Khirodh sniffed back a tear. "You should better take a shower here. Piya can bring some clothes for you."

"Okay, then."

"I am asking Maya to wait," Mohini said, and dashed back to the detective.

Raktim took a quick shower, changed into neat clothes and brushed back his hair. Even though the ambience was suffocating and stressful, he had to remember that Maya wouldn't love to see him covered in blood and dirt.

Maybe he had lost her. Maybe she would never love him back. And he had to be at peace with it.

Yet, he was now free to love anyone he wished, so Raktim would give all his love to Maya.