Umeed

The rain did not dim Aatish's fire one bit; instead, it dissipated completely before it even reached her. Aatish was a being of molten lava and fire; her claws were a mixture of obsidian and flame. And usually, they could burn through anything.

But not through the sorrow she was feeling today, not through the cold that had settled upon her heart upon watching the memorial of her late brother.

His words still echoed through her being. Aatish had always looked up to Qatan since forever, and he had always been the hero to her. He had raised her and taught her. And today he was no more.

Aatish felt deeply cold and isolated within.

But when she saw Isra crying, she braced herself. She still had a job to do, the last and the most important part of the mission, and that was to embed the cloud core within the demon child.

After the memorial was over and the rain had stopped, she walked to Isra and held her hand.

"Isra, Qatan spoke very fondly of you. He told me how you two first met and how you almost ate him completely." She held her hand firmly, and it did not even make it warm.

"Yeah, he looked like cotton candy," Isra looked up, wiping tears with the back of her hand and chuckled.

"Bhaijaan did look like a chubby, edible ball of clouds. It was funny how no one could expect him to be so powerful while looking so cute," Aatish said, successfully dissipating the tension a little.

"What good is power when he's dead?" Isra asked, tears finding their way to her eyes again.

Khadija stood nearby listening to both of them; she had nothing to add.

"You're right, what good is power if the wielder dies. I asked Bhaijaan the same question some time ago, and he replied, 'It is not about the power; the one who wields it can die at any time, there will always be someone more powerful than him, it's about the change he brings about with the amount of power he is given and the limited time he has; that is what defines that person.'" Aatish's words struck Isra to her core. She looked up, her grey eyes reflecting the yellow flames.

"Bhaijaan has left you a gift." Aatish summoned a bright blue orb of crackling electricity; it had deep back-revolting malice deep within, and it immediately reminded Isra of the dream she had seen before they left for the Grove.

The dream where she was a pale lanky man being drawn into an orb of blue and revolting black.

"What is it?" Isra asked innocently.

"This is the cloud core; this is what ignited power in Bhaijaan's soul. He left it for you," Aatish said as the orb dimmed.

That one statement pushed Isra's mind to faraway places. It ignited a lot of questions within her: 'Who was that lanky pale man then?' 'Is this the same orb?' But she pushed them back for now.

"I don't deserve it..." Said Isra, while looking down at her feet.

"You're the only one who deserves it, trust me," Aatish replied as Isra looked up at her confused.

"Trust me!" Aatish repeated while looking into her eyes.

After taking some moments to herself, Isra nodded affirmatively.

She then looked up and saw an unimaginable formation of deep red and purple clouds, forming into a whirlpool and descending upon them; the size of it was enormous, covering the whole grove. It frightened her and she stepped back.

"The clouds are here to witness your ascension too," Aatish said.

Zar-e-zameen walked out and stood beside Khadija without saying anything.

********

"Will it hurt her?" Khadija asked worriedly.

"Not a bit, but the core may test her later in other ways," Aatish replied.

Isra braved herself and extended her right hand as the orb flew to it, igniting her skin with tiny lightning strikes; they were painless. It flew to her arm and then entered her chest, and her eyes lit up bright blue.

Then the red and purple clouds descended upon her in a tornado of swirling mist, and completely shrouded her from outside.

Zar-e-zameen pushed her wing out, protecting Khadija as in the next second, a merciless gale of wind crashed into them, uprooting even some of the trees, but the stream of clouds remained unbothered. They kept rotating around Isra.

Thunder roared loudly in the background.

"Isra!" Khadija shouted, barely being able to open her eyes.

And some moments later, the dark queen said, her sonorous voice resounding deep within the grove.

"It's done!" 

The clouds dissipated, leaving an unconscious Isra laying on the ground. Nothing looked different about her except her hair, which were completely white now, rather than being stark black.