Chapter 53 – Death in the Courtyard

"In a world where even gods stay silent, sometimes a death speaks louder than fate."

The courtyard of Ashtashram was supposed to be safe.

A place for morning prayers.

For the kids to play.

For Mira to sketch blueprints in the dust.

But that day, it became a grave.

Not for the enemy.

But for one of their own.

The sky was rust-colored — bleeding into dusk.

Yash had just finished a round of patrol when the breach alarm echoed through the ruins.

No screams.

No monsters.

Just… silence.

A strange one.

The kind that precedes something irreversible.

It was Raghav.

He was 19.

A volunteer.

Quiet. Awkward.

Used to hum old Bollywood songs when cooking.

He wasn't a fighter.

But he stood between Khushi and the creature anyway.

The Rakshasa-born didn't roar.

It didn't even look alive.

Its body was shadow. Its mouth — just absence.

But it lunged.

And Raghav — just a boy with no power, no training, no second chances — shoved Khushi aside.

Took the full blow.

Yash arrived a second too late.

His blade severed the creature in half.

But it was already done.

Raghav lay bleeding, smiling.

"Tell Khushi… the rice won't burn this time," he whispered.

Then silence.

Not even the gods wept.

But Yash did.

And so did Khushi.

Mira knelt beside the body, her hand shaking.

Ankita stood by the gates, unmoving.

There was no grand funeral.

Just a line in the dust —

a stone with his name,

a prayer made of ash.

Raghav didn't die because he was weak.

He died because he chose to protect.

And that choice became something greater than any divine form.

Later that night, Yash carved a mark on the courtyard wall.

One stroke for every lost name.

Raghav's was the twenty-second.