Flashback
As the Shehzadi entered the grand palace gates, her eyes scanned every familiar corner with a silent ache. Without a pause, she walked straight into the main hall, where her father—the great Badshah—was seated.
The moment he saw her, his stern expression softened into joy.
"My daughter!" he whispered with trembling lips, rising from his seat.
She rushed into his arms, and they embraced tightly. Neither of them could stop the tears. Years of distance, of silence, of longing—everything melted away in that one moment.
"I missed you so much," he murmured into her hair.
"I missed you more, Baba," she replied, barely able to speak through her tears.
The Badshah slowly pulled back and looked at her with deep affection.
"You must rest now. You've just returned. And I have so many questions… so much to talk about."
But Maryam shook her head gently.
"No, I don't want to rest. I'm fine, really. Please… let's talk now. I want to hear your voice. I want to sit with you."
He nodded, and they moved into a quiet chamber. As they sat down, the Badshah looked at her with a puzzled expression.
"You were supposed to arrive in nearly two months. How did you come so soon?"
She began explaining everything—how Yousif had told them about a shortcut route that would cut their journey in half. She told him about the strange path, the fear, the haunting deaths along the way.
The Badshah's face darkened.
"He endangered your life? That path is cursed!" he said in anger.
But Maryam held his hand and said calmly,
"No, Baba… we asked him. We were in a hurry. I was desperate to see you. That's why I agreed to take the risk."
Just then, the door opened and Abdullah entered, breathless.
"Badshah Salamat… Nayab's condition is worsening. She's very ill."
The Badshah froze. Maryam's face paled.
"What…? Nayab?" she gasped. "What happened to her?"
She stood up quickly, panic rising in her chest.
"She's like my sister! We grew up together—sharing secrets, stealing mangoes from the gardens, playing hide and seek in these very halls. She was always with me… How could this happen?"
Tears welled up in her eyes as she grabbed Abdullah's arm.
"Where is she? Take me to her—right now. I want to see her. I need to see her!"
They rushed through the hallways of the palace, hearts racing. As they entered Nayab's room, Maryam stopped in the doorway, stunned.
There lay Nayab, pale and still, her breathing shallow.
Maryam broke down instantly, falling to her knees beside her.
"Nayab… do you remember how we used to sit under the stars and promise to never leave each other?" she whispered, holding her hand. "Please don't leave me now… You're my only sister… my only friend from that time when life was still innocent."
She rested her forehead against Nayab's arm, sobbing silently. The room echoed with memories, with unspoken prayers, and with the aching bond of a love that even time could never erase.
Present
Yousif had finally received the dinars and had recovered too. But Shehzadi… she wanted to see him with her own eyes. She was insisting, almost pleading, "I want to meet that masked man. Do whatever you can, find him, bring him to me—I need to talk to him!"
Everyone started searching for him with urgency.
Meanwhile, Hashim entered the palace quietly. He walked into a room where Usman stood alone, his back turned. Hashim slowly approached him from behind and then—struck him with something heavy. Usman staggered but didn't fall. He fought back, refusing to give up. But Hashim overpowered him, dragged him down to the dungeon where prisoners were kept, and started lashing him—again and again—until his skin began to tear and peel off.
Usman had heard all of it before. He had remained silent, because he was weak then. But not anymore. Now he didn't hold back. He killed Hashim in the same brutal way Hashim had killed those four innocent men—one by one. And just like Usman had once hidden the victims… Hashim's body was hidden in the same way.
Then… Usman walked away, calmly, quietly—leaving no trace behind.
On the other side of the palace, Nayab was slowly beginning to recover—but she was still unconscious.
Qasim's POV
Qasim was desperate. He was yearning to see Nayab, aching to just stay by her side. But he couldn't. He was trying so hard to fight what was holding him back, but inside he was breaking.
He remembered—
"When you were painting… I thought that was the most precious thing to you."
He blamed himself. Tears streamed down his face.
"Why did I leave you? Why… why did I walk away from you?"
He sobbed quietly in the dark, haunted by guilt.
Abdul Rehman's POV
Abdul Rehman had now grown very close to Umm-e-Farwah. But even in that bond, one thought refused to leave his mind—his friend, Qasim.
He was worried.
So he started searching. He looked everywhere, in every corner, every alley of Shabbar, desperate to find where Qasim had diPresent
Yousif had finally received the dinars and had recovered too. But Shehzadi… she wanted to see him with her own eyes. She was insisting, almost pleading, "I want to meet that masked man. Do whatever you can, find him, bring him to me—I need to talk to him!"
Everyone started searching for him with urgency.
Meanwhile, Hashim entered the palace quietly. He walked into a room where Usman stood alone, his back turned. Hashim slowly approached him from behind and then—struck him with something heavy. Usman staggered but didn't fall. He fought back, refusing to give up. But Hashim overpowered him, dragged him down to the dungeon where prisoners were kept, and started lashing him—again and again—until his skin began to tear and peel off.
Hashim had heard all of it before. He had remained silent, because he was weak then. But not anymore. Now he didn't hold back. He killed usman in the same brutal way usman had killed those four innocent men—one by one. And just like Usman had once hidden the victims… Usman's body was hidden in the same way.
Then… Hashim walked away, calmly, quietly—leaving no trace behind.
On the other side of the palace, Nayab was slowly beginning to recover—but she was still unconscious.
Qasim's POV
Qasim was desperate. He was yearning to see Nayab, aching to just stay by her side. But he couldn't. He was trying so hard to fight what was holding him back, but inside he was breaking.
He remembered—
"When you were painting… I thought that was the most precious thing to you."
He blamed himself. Tears streamed down his face.
"Why did I leave you? Why… why did I walk away from you?"
He sobbed quietly in the dark, haunted by guilt.
Abdul Rehman's POV
Abdul Rehman had now grown very close to Umm-e-Farwah. But even in that bond, one thought refused to leave his mind—his friend, Qasim.
He was worried.
So he started searching. He looked everywhere, in every corner, every alley of cornerdesperate to find where Qasim had disappeared.
If you were in Shehzadi Maryam's place, would you risk your life to take the cursed shortcut—just to see someone you love again?"
Written By
Sabir Ali
Thanks For reading