Semua Bab The Goddess Warrior: Bab 21 - Bab 30

Jaiyana read the large white lettering across the black frieze, the Urdu script spelling out Harappa—House of Wonders, towering above the entrance to the museum. The long concrete walkway was shaded here and there by neem, acacia, and other hardy trees scattered along its edge. Wide stretches of grass, punctuated with shrubs and native plants, framed the path and lent a quiet welcome as they approached the main doors. Jaiyana noticed where the beige paint had peeled away, exposing the bricks beneath, their warm tones echoing the desert sands. Passing through the square archway toward the entrance, her heart leapt with anticipation—not just for the wonders waiting inside, but for the chance to explore them alongside Kaplan, whose calm presence intrigued her, and Danny, whose easy friendship promised laughter and shared discovery.The museum’s entrance hall stretched wide, a spacious foyer bathed in soft, natural light streaming through tall windows that lined the walls. The polished st

Dr. Mahisar leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice so that the room seemed to hush in response. His eyes gleamed as he gestured toward the next set of seals and carvings.“Now, let me tell you of Durga and Mahishasura,” he began, his tone almost musical, weaving rhythm into the words. “There was a time when arrogance took flesh in the form of a man—no, a demon—Mahishasura. He was cunning, he was cruel, and his ego… ah, it was as vast as the plains themselves. He believed himself untouchable, beyond the reach of gods or men, for the boons he received from Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva made him immune to death by any man or god. Immortality, as it were, for anyone daring to oppose him.”He let the words sink in, watching the group lean closer, spellbound.“Mahishasura’s misogyny was legendary. Women, in his mind, were weak, lesser beings, incapable of challenging his might. And yet, in the end… it was a woman who rose against him. Durga, the goddess forged from the combined energy of th

Jaiyana studied the Durga seal, tracing the graceful lines of the warrior, noting the tension in her muscles and the way she poised her bow to strike the unseen enemy. A deep reverence settled over her as she touched the artifact, feeling the history pressed into its carved surface. She knew the tales of Usha and Durga well—her grandmother had recounted them since Jaiyana was a child, not as religious doctrine but as shared history, lessons woven into their heritage. Yet she had never heard the prophecy. That detail alone made her want to call her grandmother as soon as she could.Her family’s roots ran deep in this region, stretching back centuries. Being here, exploring and helping to recover fragments of her own past, gave her purpose beyond the work itself—it was personal.Her attention shifted when she noticed Kaplan, rigid and trembling, a pale flush creeping across his face. At first, she thought it might be a panic attack. She began to step closer, intending to help, but then

Kaplan rose in one fluid motion and turned, extending his hand. When Jaiyana slipped her fingers into his, a jolt ran through her, and with effortless strength he lifted her to her feet. He didn’t release her hand. Instead, he drew her closer, his gaze locked on hers.She tilted her chin upward, caught in the pull of his green eyes. For a heartbeat, she was certain he would kiss her—her lips parted with the thought, aching with anticipation. The world seemed to narrow to just the space between them, until the shuffle of servants clearing dishes broke the spell. They were alone now, the last of the guests gone.“I’m not quite ready to sleep,” Kaplan murmured, the words slipping out with more longing than he intended. “Would you take a walk with me?”Jaiyana couldn’t find words. She simply nodded, her gaze locked on Kaplan’s, letting the serenity of the surroundings—and the warmth of his hand—speak for her.Kaplan guided her outside, their hands still entwined, onto the grounds that bor

The shower room resembled a dormitory bathroom, with multiple stalls separated by plastic curtains and tiled walls. As the cool water cascaded over her, Jaiyana closed her eyes, letting it wash away the dust and sweat of the day. The pressure of the flow massaged her sore muscles, easing the tension from hours of labor beneath the merciless sun. For a few quiet moments, she allowed herself to just breathe, to feel the relief and solitude, and to gather her energy for the rest of the day.Even in the quiet solitude, her thoughts drifted to Kaplan—the warmth of his hand, the intensity of his gaze at lunch, the unspoken pull she felt every time he was near. A small, involuntary shiver ran down her spine, and she realized just how much she wanted to see him again, to feel that closeness once more. For now, though, she let the water carry her stress away, holding onto the memory of his presence like a secret warmth beneath the cool spray.Jaiyana braided her damp hair and slipped into a lo