The Caged Heart Season 2 — Chapter 3

The celebration had ended, and peace had returned—for most.

Naraka had taken Nujah away to rest, far from the noise, far from the crowds.

Three days passed.

Nujah was lying in the throne room, half-asleep on a cushion of soft light, when Naraka quietly entered.

She smiled warmly.

"Feeling any better?"

With a faint, hoarse voice—but a small smile—he answered:

"How could I not? I'm in your care, Mother."

Naraka's expression softened with relief. But her eyes betrayed a deeper concern.

"I'm glad to hear that… because there's something only you can fix," she said, standing up straight.

Nujah sat up slowly, concern blooming across his face.

"You didn't have to kill someone, did you?"

Naraka gave a bitter smile.

"No. I spared her. Even though she used my name to commit crimes… I forgave her."

"Where is she now?" Nujah asked.

"In the prison," Naraka replied.

"What?!" Nujah's voice cracked in frustration.

"You locked her away?!"

Naraka shrugged slightly.

"What did you expect? A medal? After what she did?"

But her tone shifted. Raising her hand, she summoned a glowing sphere.

"She's planning to end her life. Guilt is consuming her. Three hours—maybe less."

Nujah's expression darkened.

"She doesn't know I'm alive, does she?"

"I made sure she didn't," Naraka said.

"The cell is completely sealed. No sound goes in or out. No one can enter—not even light."

Nujah stood up suddenly—but his body failed him.

He collapsed.

Naraka caught him instantly and helped him back up. With a snap of her fingers, the world around them shifted.

They now stood just outside Mitra's cell.

"That's her room," she whispered, placing a hand gently on Nujah's neck.

"This might hurt… but it will give you enough strength to walk."

Nujah winced, then nodded.

"It's better if she sees you alone," Naraka said. "She needs this."

"Thank you, Mother," he said.

With a soft smile, she vanished in light.

Nujah began walking—slowly, carefully—toward the cage. He suppressed every emotion, burying all thoughts to prevent her from sensing him.

Through the bars, he saw her.

But what he saw… was not the same Mitra.

She was just a husk, hollow and numb.

Her aura was dark—but not violent. Not evil.

It was grief. Shame.

As Nujah watched, she slowly lifted a blade—one forged from the blood of her own mother—and pointed it at herself.

Just as she prepared to strike, a voice pierced through the silence:

> "You think I let our mother save you just so you could kill yourself?!"

The sword dropped from Mitra's hands.

She collapsed in disbelief.

Then… laughter.

Nujah opened the cage and stepped inside, smiling with tears in his eyes.

> "I'm back, princess."

Mitra could barely speak.

Her voice failed her. Her mind couldn't believe what she saw.

Nujah walked up to her.

> "What? You're not coming to hug me? Fine. Then I'll come to you."

He knelt and wrapped his arms around her trembling form.

As she tried to form words, Nujah whispered:

> "Shhh. It's okay."

He gently stroked her hair—and with a calm breath, absorbed all the negative energy left inside her.

For the first time in ten years…

Mitra closed her eyes.

And finally… slept peacefully.

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