When Arohi struck that purple-flamed lamp with her sword, for a moment, the whole world seemed to come to a standstill. As the lamp shattered into pieces, the soul of the Apsara let out a scream of terrifying agony. But that soul was not one to give up easily. A black smoke billowed out from the broken fragments of the lamp and surrounded Arohi from all sides.
The grave voice of the Apsara echoed— "Did you think that merely breaking the lamp would end the curse? This curse will only end when someone from the royal bloodline voluntarily sanctifies this unholy ground with their heart's blood!"
Arohi saw the marks of the mistakes made by Aditya's father appearing on the tunnel walls. All these arrangements were made to take revenge for the betrayal Aditya's father had committed against the Apsara. Arohi realized that this battle could not be won with just a sword. She cut her palm slightly and offered that blood upon the altar of the tunnel. She shouted, "If it is the blood of the royal line you want, then take my blood! I am the daughter-in-law of this family; my blood is now of this lineage too. But you shall not torment my beloved anymore."
As soon as her blood of selfless sacrifice touched the ground, the Kalbaishakhi storm in the tunnel ceased. The soul of the Apsara gradually calmed down and transformed into a magical figure. She bowed her head, mesmerized by Arohi's courage. The Apsara said, "Your love is greater than the curse, Arohi. From today, Junagarh is free."
Within moments, the smoke and the illusion of the tunnel vanished. When Arohi returned to the upper floors, she saw Aditya sleeping peacefully. His red eyes and ferocity were completely gone. The Queen Mother hugged Arohi and broke into tears. The next morning, Aditya did not know what had happened during the night, but he felt as if a massive stone had been lifted from his chest. Holding Arohi's hand, he said, "I don't know why, but today I feel as if I have been born anew."
Arohi smiled; her eyes held the brilliance of the morning light. There were no more dark shadows in the sky of the Junagarh palace. The curse ended with the victory of love. The Kalbaishakhi storm in the sky of Junagarh had indeed stopped, and a bright sunrise had occurred, but no one realized that a new horror was brewing behind that peaceful morning. The curse on Aditya was gone; he was now calm. But inside the royal palace, in Arohi's room, there was the silence of a graveyard.
Arohi was lying on the royal couch, but her body was burning like fire. Last night, during that dark battle in the tunnel, in a fit of intense rage, she had cut her palm very deeply with the sword. The wound from the blood sacrifice she had made to extinguish the lamp of accursed Mayanagari had now spread its poison throughout her body. In the heat of the moment last night, no one had noticed, but today Arohi couldn't even open her eyes. She was recoiling in unbearable pain, yet no sound came from her mouth.
After a few minutes, Aditya shuddered as he touched Arohi's forehead. "Mother! Look, Arohi's body is burning!" Aditya was startled as he pulled Arohi's disheveled hand toward him. The deep wound on her palm had now turned dark, and the dried blood had congealed into a gruesome form.
When the Queen Mother saw the wound, she broke down in tears. She could no longer remain still. She went straight to the Maharaja's (Aditya's father) chamber. The Maharaja was sitting by his window, looking at the sky, perhaps atoning for the sins of his past. The Queen Mother stood before him and let out a heart-wrenching cry—
"Look, Maharaja! Because of one mistake of yours, that innocent girl is fighting with death today! You once betrayed a magical Apsara; her curse wanted to destroy our lineage. And today, Arohi has pulled that curse into her own body. She has saved your royal line with her own blood, yet today there is no certainty of her life. Will Junagarh never be free from curses? Why does danger never stop in this kingdom?"
The Maharaja sat motionless like a stone. A single tear rolled down the corner of his eye. He knew that this wound of Arohi's was no ordinary sword wound; it was infused with that ancient poison of Mayanagari. The only remedy for this poison was a certain herb that was almost impossible to find.
Clouds began to gather again outside the palace. While the subjects of Junagarh were chanting victory for the King, inside the palace, Arohi was counting her final hours. Aditya sat holding Arohi's wounded hand against his chest. He whispered, "I will not let you die, Arohi. If the throne of Junagarh comes at the cost of your life, then I shall abdicate this throne this very day."
But Arohi's still body gave no response. Her fever continued to rise, and the dark wound on her hand gradually became even more poisonous. Would Junagarh then lose its protector?