The guards, assigned to the most critical outpost at the edge of the camp, guarded against any infiltrators. The weight of responsibility presses down on them, for this is the Night of Kurukshetra, and enemies lurk everywhere. Suddenly, a figure, a mere wisp of shadow, slips into their peripheral vision, moving with unnatural speed. They  raise their spear, their heart hammering against their ribs, ready to confront the encroaching darkness. 

*A soft, rustling sound, like leaves brushing against stone, was the only reply. Nocturne did not run. Instead, the masked figure melted deeper into the shadow of a gargantuan Banyan tree, their form blurring into the ancient, gnarled trunk. The guard squinted, his eyes straining, but saw nothing. Just as he took another tentative step, a tiny, almost imperceptible 'click' sound emanated from directly behind him—too small to be a threat, yet perfectly placed to draw his attention. His head snapped around, spear swinging wildly at the empty air behind him, leaving his front exposed. In that fleeting instant, Nocturne was no longer against the Banyan tree. A faint, almost silent 'shhhk' sound, like air being cut by silk, was the only indication of the masked figure's lightning-fast ascent. By the time the guard turned back, Nocturne was already a dark silhouette against the moon, perched silently on a high, impossibly thin branch, observing the camp below like a silent bird of prey. The guard, bewildered, only saw the leaves of the Banyan tree swaying faintly, as if stirred by a phantom breeze.*

Kurukshetra BL

Kurukshetra BL

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