Savitri wasn't sure if his time in the underworld had enhanced his speed or if it was the power of a god, but Satyavan was fast.

She couldn't decide if he was fast enough that he could outrun a horse or elephant. The idea seemed too outlandish, and even as she chased after him, she recognized patterns from when he was alive.

Yet, there was something about the way that he ran – the sudden bursts of energy when he'd stop behind a tree or the flash of blinding blue and white light that would elicit a cry out of Savitri and force her to stop and close her eyes; it was like he was running from something or someone.

She didn't give up, though. She couldn't. She was so close and Dharmaraja wasn't there to stop her. She had to keep going.

"Did he escape somehow?" She instinctively reached behind her back for an arrow to notch in her bow, then stopped. "That's impossible. He died in my arms..." Her arms fell and she resumed her pace behind Satyavan's strange figure. "Doesn't he remember me? Satyavan!"

He didn't answer. The wind whipped his sleek raven hair behind him, like a rope keeping them at a distance. Maybe he didn't hear her.

"Satyavan!" She called again, hearing her voice die in the wind and dust his bare feet kicked in the air. A chill swept over her, harsh like a lion sinking its teeth into a slab of meat. Her nerves jumped and a sting rippled through her system. Is something watching me?

The quiver became heavy on her back and shifted uncomfortably between her shoulder blades. The strap rubbed her exposed belly uncomfortably and was probably going to give her a rash. As she ran through the dense collection of trees and bushes, trying to discern Satyavan's willowy frame and if the presence between them was an asura or not, Savitri realized just how alone she was.

"Satyavan, you would have never let me do this on my own," she murmured, loud enough for the figure to stop and turn. Satyavan cocked his head like a curious owl, an action that made Savitri briefly recall Suman's expression. That brief lapse was enough to allow the wind to leave Satyavan's hair and aid a branch fall, spooking him again.

His pace is slowing down. Is he frightened, or have I hit a nerve? Is he trying to lead me somewhere? Are we almost there? Keep going. He's just within reach, Savitri assured herself, pushing Suman and the guilt that came with his name out of. The intention behind her words was to calm herself, but the soothing, almost medicinal effect that her self-comfort usually had didn't work its magic this time. She was almost too aware of her surroundings to be able to even think straight and keep her eyes on the prize.

When Satyavan paused again on a nearby tree, Savitri noticed that the chains attached to his body seemed to be on tighter than they were before, creating dark purple blotches on his iridescent skin. Every object he brushed against made his lean figure ripple and a visible wince twisted his visage.

Snag the chains, Savitri thought. If she could get the chains off of him, maybe he wouldn't have to keep running from her. Maybe he'd be free to roam on his own, if Dharmaraja was controlling him through his blue aura. If not, then maybe she'd finally be able to understand what he was telling her.

Savitri pulled an arrow from the quiver and set it against the bow. She tried to mimic Suman's stance, but her foot stretched out from behind the tree that she was hiding behind and caught Satyavan's attention. Like a deer, he dashed away from the thicket and left a cloud of dirt in his path.

"Ugh!" She grimaced and closed her eyes, brushing the small tornado of dust away. When she regained her vision, she was all alone and there was no light anywhere. The only sounds she could hear were the contemplative chirps of crickets and the tentative clapping of the trees.

"So funny," she quipped to the small, wilting flower next to her, her tongue absorbed in bitterness. She wished that the Moon was out so that she could see better, but alas, it had chosen that certain night to rest. Savitri wanted to curse at Chandra Deva for picking the worst day to sleep in, but she'd heard about what happened to mortals who disrespected the gods, and she wasn't about to join Dharmaraja in hell just yet. At least, not dead.

Where did he go... she thought. Like a lioness stalking its prey, she surveyed the area in a crouched position. He had to be close by, or else what was the reason for bringing her in the first place? If Satyavan wanted to leave unseen, he could have, but he chose to wake her up for a reason, or so she thought.

He has to be here, she repeated, the voice in her head rising exponentially, its octave reaching an ear-shattering pitch. Her knees trembled, threatening to buckle, and her grip on her bow was slickened from the sweat her palms secreted. He has to...

A cloak of darkness covered the forest like a prickly blanket and every hair on Savitri's body stood on its end. The low hiss of a snake resonated in her ears like the battle cry of a conch shell and the splinters on the bow numbed her sense of touch.

Savitri... Satyavan's voice suddenly broke through the atmosphere of panic that whirled around her.

He can speak?! Savitri's heart swelled, first with pain, then with hope, and she turned away from the grass blades where the snake's hiss came from. Satyavan reappeared a few feet away from her, holding his hand out invitingly.

No...he's...an illusion... But Savitri reached out, only for Satyavan to pull away before she could touch him. He took a step back, then another, then with an indiscernible curl of his lips, he was running again, back behind the deep curtains of the forest ahead of them.

"No!" Savitri's exclamation was louder than before and she shoved the arrow back into the quiver. She shook her body as a way to force all of her senses to activate and she bolted after Satyavan. Trying to keep Suman from touching all the flowers had given Savitri a new record speed and she rushed through the thorns and damp leaves.

Satyavan visibly slowed down, both coaxing and teasing her. His impish smile was odd, because she'd never seen him smile in such an elfish way, but then again, they had only been married for a year. She had so much yet to learn about him.

I can't let him go, she thought through gritted teeth. Not again.

Passion fueled her like hay fueled a horse and she hastily knocked a small arrow into her bow. The next time Satyavan paused to do his little teasing ritual, Savitri closed her eye, focused on his arm, and shot the arrow –

--only for it to go right past him and dive crookedly into the bushes.

Satyavan bolted again, and Savitri let out a howl of anger that could rival a wolf's as she chased after him, using Suman's arrows one by one as she tried and failed to lock Satyavan to a tree.

Like a bee, adrenaline buzzed in her ear and seemed to add more logs to the burning fire pit of annoyance. Savitri's excitement evaporated into a hurricane of desire, demand, and ire. Suman's quiver only had a few arrows left, and Savitri wasn't sure how he'd react when he discovered most of his arrows to be gone, but she brushed the thought of him being angry aside rather quickly. He had a sword anyway. He'd survive.

The next time that Satyavan stopped, Savitri slowed her pumping heart to concentrate without any distractions on her prize. She closed one eye and squinted her other. Her teeth dug into her lip so deeply that blood drew, but she ignored the taste of the bitter iron on her tongue and pulled the arrow back on the string. Just as Satyavan saw her, she released the dart, but instead of lodging Satyavan's chained hand to the trunk, it spun straight through him and right into the tree.

Satyavan peered at her, his lips making an 'o' shape and releasing a hollowed sound, and he dashed away once again.

Stunned, Savitri's jaw unceremoniously dropped, and this time she didn't worry about princess poise enough to force it shut again. She couldn't believe what she had just seen. Satyavan's chain was supposed to have been lodged in the tree – her aim was on point! Despite being a soul, she distinctly remembered Dharmaraja holding him, and even she recalled the brush of his wide-rimmed fingertips against her skin as he departed to the Underworld. Satyavan should have remained in place.

Except, she realized, that wasn't Satyavan.

It was an illusion.

Savitri's stomach froze. An illusion in the forest was not something that happened regularly. Either a god was making a fool of her, her mind was playing tricks on her, or Satyavan's illusion was a demon trying to coax her into his lair with the intention of having her for a midnight snack– and as the stars sparkled with mirth, gleaming at their late-night show, Savitri went with the last option.

Run, Savitri, Run, her mind ordered, but Savitri's feet were buried in the dirt and too deep to be removed. Her palms were sweaty. The chill in her windpipe froze her airways, making it difficult to breathe.

RUN!

With a powerful blow, the wind pushed her, sending her nearly flying, but she managed to collect herself, pick up her dignity, and run. Run in any direction or in no direction at all, she ran. She didn't look back. Not for Satyavan. Not for any asura. She just kept running.

At one point she felt like a wheeless chariot. The dark scenery blew by her so quickly that regardless if her legs were still moving or not, she somehow kept going. Everything felt weightless and the only burden on her back was the crawling realization that once again, she had failed. Savitri was thankful that the windy night wiped the beginning of her tears before they could fall, or else she was sure that she would have begun to bawl, and that was not dignified at all. Especially if Suman saw her...

Suman.

Savitri's heart rate picked up again, but this time for a totally different reason. Worry clouded her mind and she stopped running. Suddenly she was aware of the blood trickling between her toes. Too aware. The sting came next, like lightning after thunder. It felt like lightning too. Like she had bent her toes backward to try and touch her heel with them.

"Suman!" Savitri hollered into the black hole that seemed to surround her, eating up the spots where the trees used to be. So dark, it was, that she wasn't even sure where she was yelling at, much less where she was going. "Suman!"

Acidic desperation trickled into her voice and once again her eyes were moist. Savitri could only keep wiping her tears for so long before she'd inevitably get dirt in her eyes, and that would be quite uncomfortable.

"Suman!" Now, a croak. "Suman!" A tremble. "Suman!" A whisper.

I'm lost, she thought, and bitterly swept the blood away from her foot. The pain wasn't excruciating, but it hurt just enough that she felt like she had stepped on a bee's stinger. It dragged her into reality, stumping her and reminding her just how bleak her life was. I shouldn't have left Suman...how could I have been so foolish to let my guard down?

Savitri knew the answer. Greed. A petty, greedy voice that urged her to recapture what she had rightfully deserved. The nasally tone was silent, now, having been just as disheartened and defeated as Savitri was.

"Savitri!" Seemingly out of nowhere (and quite literally in Savitri's mind since she thought that she had fallen into some endless dark hole), Suman's head popped out of the bushes. His wavy hair blended into the trees and his sparkling eyes were the size of the moon with what Savitri could only assume was concern. He had no weapons except for his drawn sword and his bow (Savitri realized with a tiny flush that she had taken most of his arrows).

"Suman!" Without thinking, Savitri jumped up and flung herself around his neck, hugging him so tightly as though she was going to squeeze all his organs out of his mouth. She could smell his sandalwood scent and it made her chest flutter.

"Hey...um...too...tight..." Suman choked, coughing.

"Oh, right." She cleared her throat to shove the sob climbing to her tongue. Brushing the tangled hair out of her eyes, she finally allowed her heart to rest a little. Suman's appearance was a message from God, answering her prayers of helplessness.

"I'm sorry. There's no need to be so dramatic about it. Have you never been hugged before?" She quipped to maintain her integrity.

Suman's jaw feathered, then he rolled his eyes and shook his head stubbornly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm far from dramatic, seeing as I'm not the one who abandoned his companion in the dead of morning to do God knows what! What were you thinking by running away like that?

Suman's loud reprimand made her flinch. Right. I suppose I did leave him to whatever hypothetical wolves there are to be seen in the forest. She handed him his nearly empty quiver of arrows and patted his arm.

"I thought I saw Satyavan," she explained, arching a brow when a childish pout overtook his once angry features as he noticed the lack of arrows in his quiver. "But when I shot at him–!"

"You shot your husband?!"

Savitri rolled her eyes. "No, I shot at the chains on him, Suman. Why in the world would I shoot at the man I love?"

Suman shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "It's you."

"What is that supposed to...Nevermind." She shook her head. "It wasn't Satyavan anyway?"

"Who was it?"

"It was an illusion."

"An illusion?" Suman repeated and paused, then when a low hiss sprung from behind him, he straightened.

"We have to go," he ordered, his voice abruptly becoming much deeper than it usually was. "Now."

"Why?"

"That illusion was made by an asura," Suman explained. His knuckles tightened around his sword. "I'm guessing it was lunchtime and he was trying to lure you into his trap to have a nice snack."

"Pity, I'm not that delicious anyway," Savitri mentioned dryly. She ran after Suman, but slowed her gait when the rips on her feet began to whine and burn.

Just as vexing as someone else I know, she thought, glaring at the back of Suman's head. The sudden arrival of the moon made his skin look extremely pale. When he turned to make sure that Savitri was still following him, his eyes were jaded and shadowed.

"When did you wake up?" She demanded. "Did you even sleep at all?"

"Of course," Suman said. "I didn't even realize that you were gone until..." he trailed off, and from behind him, Savitri could see his cheeks pulling upwards. "Until I heard you yelling my name..."

Her skin flamed. Oh. Was I that loud? No, surely I didn't need him as madly as he describes. Her heart stammered and she averted her head.

"Don't get too high on your horse," she grumbled. "Your job is to protect me. I was in dire need of protection."

"Protection? By me? I'm honored, yuvrani."

"Don't call me that." Savitri's annoyance rippled through her when she caught a glimpse of his smug grin.

Silly boy, she thought, stomping through the woods. Suman trailed behind her, constantly stopping to look at the flowers or trees. A despicable thought briefly entered Savitri's mind to let him keep touching the leaves in hopes of catching poison ivy, but her lessons on kindness and her equally vexatious conscience forced her to grab his wrist and pull him behind her. Oddly enough, it reminded her of the irate wives she'd seen during her diplomatic trips to various kingdoms. Usually, they ended with the husbands bringing flowers to their wives and apologizing for their distraction, but she doubted that Suman would do anything of that nature.

I don't need him to bring me flowers, she reminded herself. That's the job of a husband.

She couldn't remember, though, if Satyavan had ever brought her flowers. The forest was dangerous, he'd always told her, and he didn't want to risk getting her sick. She understood, of course, and it was only rational for a woman of her standing to be cautious of the dangers of the forest, and yet, seeing Suman pander carelessly around various roots and other parts of botany made her wonder just how reliable Satyavan's claims were.

Him, bring me flowers? She smiled distantly. He'd have to get flowers for Saibya-Ma first, and she's known to be quite picky about colors.

Suman's yelp broke her from her reverie, though she didn't immediately look at him. A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she thought: Suman would probably bring too many flowers to carry. It came easily to her, the image of Suman, his gentle smile stretching his face, his bulky arms full of daffodils and roses and an array of flowers he loved to describe, and for some reason, her heart flipped.

Whomever he weds will be lucky, she told herself, and when he yelped again she grimaced. Well, sort-of lucky.

She looked over her shoulder and sighed. "Suman, don't touch everything that you see," she told him sternly for what felt like the millionth time. "I told you that one of them could be poison ivy."

"How can you be so averse to the beauty of nature?" Suman poked another flower.

"It's dark, how can you even see any of them!" Savitri hissed "And most of the flowers are wilting. How is that pretty to you?"

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, princess." He grinned, his voice mildly slurred. "What's ugly to you, is beautiful to me."

"I agree that flowers are beautiful," Savitri said. "But dead ones? How are they beautiful at all? They're dead?"

Suman arched a pointed brow. "I'll be gentlemanly enough not to point out the hypocrisy in your words. I find wilting flowers beautiful because they don't have to keep up this proud persona. They can finally rest, you know?"

"Rest?"

"From putting up a farce. From being something to be admired for so long that they can finally stop and wilt, even if they are scowled upon, they're free from the burden of being perfect."

Savitri's breath caught. She felt him staring at her. Free from being perfect. "I see..." unspoken words hung in the misty air, potent with longing and realization. Savitri didn't need to spell it out for Suman. She didn't even need to spell it for herself.

"What do you think?" Suman stumbled to her side, his elbow brushing hers.

"About?"

"Flowers? Specifically, the chrysanthemums that we're standing on."

"Oh!" Savitri moved aside. "I actually agree with you. Flowers are beautiful, especially these." She felt her eyes lose their tenseness. "My mataji had chrysanthemums in the garden. They were burned with her when she died, too, at least, my father tells me."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Suman murmured. He picked at the tip of his bow, frowning at the pieces that chipped away.

"It is alright. I don't remember her that much anyway," Savitri said offhandedly, shrugging to ignore the sting that traveled down her spine. "She was my papa's light, I suppose. He never remarried."

"Well, he had a child to look after."

Of course. If you call countless tutors working me to exhaustion and locking me in my quarters to be parenting. Savitri sighed. "Perhaps. He had a kingdom to run as well, so I can't say we spent much time together." She trailed her fingers along the flowers. "I tried to..." I tried to be the perfect daughter, even if there were so many other things I wanted to do. She glanced at Suman's weapons. "My mother's garden was my favorite place. When she died, my father had the entire garden burned with her."

"Did you have a favorite flower?"

"Not particularly. They were all my favorites."

"That's a beautiful thing. You saw the beauty in all of them, even as you now mock my affinity toward plants." His infectious smile made her heart lighter and she felt his knuckles brush hers, a touch that made her body electrify with energy.

Immediately after, he tripped over a stone, coughed, then cleared his throat and shook his head. "I must have woken up too quickly," he muttered. "This whole world is spinning. Next thing you know, I'll be in Dharmaraj's kingdom." He laughed a little weakly.

"Don't joke about that kind of thing," Savitri reprimanded him firmly. "You're just being careless. Focus on the path." Not my face. I wonder if there's something on it that he doesn't like.

"I am not careless." Suman huffed. "But, speaking of Dharmaraja...do you know where you're going?"

"To the kingdom of death?...no, I don't." Savitri's shoulders slumped. "For now, though, I'm just trying to get us out of this forest."

"I was thinking...or dreaming, more so," Suman muttered. "If Kailash is the entrance to heaven, so to speak, wouldn't it be the entrance to hell too?"

Savitri stopped walking. "What do you mean?"

"There's a cave, or tunnel, I'm not sure," Suman explained. "That connects earth, heaven, and hell. If we go to Kailash, then hell's entrance should be there."

"That's...not a bad assumption. It would make sense, as Lord Shiva is the destroyer, that his abode would be the entrance to the death of all living. We will go to Kailash, then." She hesitated. "Tell me again, how do you know this now and not yesterday?"

"I dreamt about it," Suman said. "The gods must be sending us a message if the dream was that vivid."

"Or they were sending you to eternal sleep," Savitri grumbled, cursing her inability to control her panic. "Alright, let's hurry up and keep moving, then."

"Okay," Suman agreed. Then, he collapsed.