CHAPTER 229: CHAPTER-229

Kaya pressed a hand over her mouth, fighting the nausea clawing at her throat. Her stomach rolled at the memory of the bowls, but after a few deep breaths she steadied herself. Breathe in. Breathe out. She forced the sour taste back down.

Her eyes wandered across the cave-house again, searching for distraction. It was simple but strangely comforting. The air carried that earthy chill caves always had, but since the weather outside wasn’t too harsh, the cold here felt... manageable. Almost cozy.

She turned to head back to her room when—

Knock. Knock.

The sharp sound echoed in the stone chamber, making her pause mid-step. Slowly, she glanced toward the entrance.

Veer’s brother stood there, framed in the doorway, a basket in his hands covered with a small animal hide. His expression softened when their eyes met.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

Kaya blinked. Of course, it wasn’t her place to refuse. This was his home, his brother’s home. She gave a small nod.

He smiled faintly and stepped inside, careful with his movements, as if not to intrude too much. He stopped near the stone table, keeping a deliberate distance between them. His eyes dropped to the untouched food still sitting there, and his lips curved into a knowing smile.

"Oh..." he murmured. "So Veer was right."

Kaya frowned, unsure. "What do you mean?"

He glanced at her, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Veer told us you don’t eat this kind of thing. He used to say you were delicate. That you weren’t used to... our ways."

The words caught her off guard. Veer said that? The thought lingered strangely in her chest.

Without pressing further, he set the basket down on the stone table and pulled back his hands. "He asked us to prepare this for you. Something you can eat. No animal meat. Nothing that would disgust you."

Kaya looked at him silently, the weight of those words sinking in.

He didn’t wait for her reply. With a small nod, he turned and headed toward the door. "Try it. You’ll like it." Then he left, footsteps fading into the quiet of the cave.

For a moment, Kaya just stood there, staring at the basket. Her heart thumped unexpectedly hard.

Slowly, she stepped closer. Her fingers hesitated above the hide. A ridiculous thought flitted through her mind—What if one of Veer’s pet mongooses jumped out of it? The corners of her lips twitched at her own absurdity.

Finally, she lifted the cover.

Her eyes widened.

Inside lay an assortment of dried fruits—figs, dates, even what looked like slices of apple. Beside them, neatly arranged, were strips of marinated chicken, fully dried, tough like jerky but smelling faintly spiced.

.

.

.

Night had fallen, swallowing the mountains in heavy silence. Inside the cave, a faint flame flickered in the stone lantern, its shadows dancing across the walls.

Veer’s breathing was steady, his chest rising and falling beneath the thick quilt. His face had regained a little color, but still, Kaya couldn’t bring herself to leave him alone. Instead of sleeping, she sat at the stone table, the diary lying open in front of her.

Her brows furrowed. She traced the strange handwriting with her fingertip, but the words refused to make sense. Veer had read it aloud to her before, yet the more she thought about it, the more it unraveled.

If everyone forgets this woman, then who wrote the diary?

If she was truly so powerful, how could she have fallen so easily?

And did her God really abandon her—or was there something else hidden beneath that story?

The contradictions circled in her mind, each one a thread she couldn’t untangle.

But what unsettled her even more was something beyond the diary. The more time she spent here, the more Veer and his world puzzled her. His way of speaking—sometimes too precise, too modern. His attire that wasn’t entirely alien to her. Even this house carved into stone, with its rooms, wardrobes, and tools... all of it felt oddly familiar. Like fragments of her own world had been stitched into this one. But how?

Kaya didn’t notice her own nervous tic until she felt the sting. She had been shaving her nails again, scraping the edge down out of habit, her mind lost in thought. This time, her hand slipped.

"Ah—!" She hissed under her breath. A sharp pain split her finger, and blood welled up, warm and quick. She shook her hand instinctively, trying to ease the sting, but the motion sent a small drop falling—

—straight onto the diary.

The red stain spread against the yellowed page, seeping into the fibers. For a moment, nothing happened. Then—

The ink beneath the blood shimmered faintly. As if the letters themselves had stirred awake.

Kaya froze.

But then, as if nothing had happened, the page returned to normal. The faint shimmer was gone, the words once again dull and lifeless.

Kaya stared in disbelief. Was it my eyes? Am I imagining things? But no—her mind was sharp, wide awake. There was no haze of sleep to blame.

Her gaze fixed on the spot where her blood had fallen, but the parchment was spotless, as if it had never been touched. That was when a reckless thought began to stir. A dangerous, bold idea. Either it would prove brilliant... or utterly foolish.

Her fingers tightened around the small knife tucked in her pocket. She hesitated, her lip caught between her teeth. Then—swiftly—she drew the blade across her thumb. A sharp sting, a bead of crimson welling up.

She leaned over the diary, careful. She chose a blank space between the lines—if nothing happened, at least the words would not be ruined.

Drop.

Drop.

Drop.

Her blood fell onto the page.

At first, it soaked into the parchment, just as before. But then... something shifted.

The droplets spread, not outward like a stain, but inward—threading through the fibers of the paper. Like veins unfurling. Like the diary itself was drinking from her.

Kaya’s breath caught in her throat.