THE CLOCK :Dark Romance story of Witch MARIAM and ROHAN

THE CLOCK GENRE: Fantasy Romance SUB-GENRE: Paranormal / Supernatural Romance + Dark Fantasy + Enemies-to-Lovers THEME: Forbidden Love, War Between Worlds, Destiny vs Choice, Sacrifice SETTING: Late 1500s. Dual worlds: 1. The Mortal World- India, Pathshala School, 1500s palaces, courtyards, mango trees 2. The Underworld- Abyss Temple beneath Giza, Egypt. Blue flames, bone thrones, blood moons BLURB : She was born under a blood moon Mariam is heir to the Underworld. A witch destined to marry a Pharaoh and end a 200-year war. Rohan is mortal. A boy with no magic, no power, and a smile that breaks all her rules. One stolen kiss could start another war. One touch could get them both killed. The law is clear: Mortals and Spirits must never love. But the Blood Diamond says otherwise. And the Dark Lord is watching. MARIAM Role: Protagonist / Chosen Desert Queen / Heir to Blood Moon Appearance: Age 17, Long black hair, usually covered by a dark cloak. Eyes like spring leaves after rain. Pale skin with a faint blue glow when magic stirs. Wears simple cotton in mortal world, ritual robes in Underworld. Small frame but moves like wind. Personality: Fierce, loyal, curious, rebellious. Raised to be a weapon but craves normal things: laughter and kindness, Smart with riddles and magic. Terrified of disappointing her parents but more terrified of living without love. Cries hard, loves harder. Background: Born in Giza during a blood moon, Daughter of Eclipse, the most powerful wizard of the Underworld, and Fatma, a soul hunter. Prophecy says she will "restore what was lost" by marrying the Prince of Egypt. Trained in magic but sneaks to mortal world to feel free. The first in 200 years to break the law by loving a mortal. Goal: Choose between saving her people OR saving the boy she loves. ROHAN Role:Male Lead / Mortal / "The Unmarked Soul" Appearance: Age 17, Warm brown skin, dark eyes, soft smile. Simple cotton kurta and dhoti in India. Looks ordinary but has an "unmarked" soul that glows to Underworld beings. Moves with quiet confidence. Personality: Kind, brave, clever with riddles. Grounded and mortal but not weak. Accepts magic without fear. Protective. The type to stand between Mariam and a mob. Laughs easily. Makes Mariam feel human. Background: Born same night as Mariam in a rich home in India,Mother sings lullabies, No magic in his blood. Just a normal boy... except Dark Lord is watching him. Becomes Mariam's friend then her partner in escaping death Goal : love has taken his heart and the underworld want his soul FATMA Role: Mother / Soul Hunter / Protector Appearance: Goth aesthetic of the Underworld. Dark clothes, bottle of souls at hip. Eyes that have seen too much. Personality: Fierce mama bear. Dry, practical, but will fight the world for Mariam. The emotional heart of the family. Background: Hunts souls for Dark Lord to keep her family safe. First to see Mariam with Rohan and chose to hide it... until she couldn’t. DARK LORD Role: Main Antagonist / Father of Underworld Appearance: Throne of bone. Teeth like broken glass. Eyes burn red. Cloak swallows light. Personality: Evil is in his heart, Patient, calculating, never forgets an oath. Hates mortals with 200 years of rage. Background: Lost Cairo to human Ghost Machines. Exiled. Now wants blood payment through Mariam’s forced marriage. PRIYA Role: School Antagonist / Love Rival Appearance: Typical popular girl of Pathshala. Polished, cruel smile. Personality: Jealous, petty, dangerous. Has crush on Rohan. Represents "normal" human cruelty. Background Just a human girl who makes Mariam’s mortal life so hard CHAPTER 1:THE NIGHT THE VEIL TORE Late 1500s. Two worlds. One destiny. Long before William Shakespeare put quill to paper, before London knew his name, the world was split in two. Mortals slept. The Underworld hunted. In India, summer air hung thick and warm. Children curled under thin cotton sheets, breathing deep, dreaming of mangoes and monsoon rain. They slept like Sleeping Beauty, untouched by the shadows that moved beyond the veil. But beneath the ground, beneath the sky, beneath the laws of man… something older was awake. In Giza, the Great Pyramid cut a black triangle against the night. Sand shifted. The Nile whispered. And the moon refused to look away. It was a blood moon. Thick. Red. The kind of moon old women warned about in Cairo markets. That night, the stars sang. Not with sound, but with light. They pulsed once, twice, then held their breath. And in a stone chamber lit by blue flame, a witch was born. Mariam. Her first cry was not a cry at all. It was wind. The torches bent toward her. The shadows on the wall moved without her. Eclipse, her father, stepped forward and placed a hand over her tiny chest. His eyes, ancient and tired, flickered with something like fear. “Heir to the blood moon,” he whispered. “Daughter of the eclipse.” The air tasted of prophecy. Of iron. Of war. Miles away, across deserts and oceans, in a small house in India, another first breath was taken. Rohan. No blue flames. No singing stars. Just the soft sound of a mother’s lullaby and the smell of cardamom tea. Nature smiled that day. The wind flowed fresh through the courtyard. The mango tree dropped one fruit, as if in blessing. Two worlds. Two births. Two destinies. Neither knew the other existed. Neither knew Dark Lord was watching. Deep below the earth, on a throne carved from bone and forgotten kings, the Father of the Underworld opened his eyes. Evil did not live in his heart. It was his heart. His name was spoken only in whispers, only when children misbehaved and mothers wanted silence. Dark Lord. And that night, he took note of both children. One with magic in her blood. One with a soul unmarked by shadow. He smiled. Teeth like broken glass. *1. WINDOW NEIGHBOR* Years passed like sand through fingers. Twelve years. Twelve birthdays. Twelve midnights. The clock in Rohan’s room ticked slow. Each second stretched, pulled thin by anticipation. Hands crept toward twelve. Mariam stood outside his window, bare feet on cold stone, heart hammering against her ribs. The night air smelled of jasmine and dust. Her dark cloak clung to her shoulders, hiding the faint glow that pulsed under her skin when her magic stirred. She was not supposed to be here. Mortals and Underworld had no connection. No right to touch. No right to breathe the same air. But she came anyway. The window slid open without a sound. She slipped through like wind, like memory, like something that was never meant to be caught. For one night, the Underworld didn’t exist. For one night, the curse didn’t matter. For one night, she was just a girl with a boy who made her laugh. They played in silence. Pillow fights that sent feathers drifting like snow. Stolen smiles that felt brighter than the moon. Their hearts raced faster than the clock, faster than the rules that bound them. Rohan’s eyes, dark and warm, followed every move she made. He didn’t ask questions anymore. He didn’t ask how she appeared. He just… accepted her. And that was more dangerous than any spell. Then — _crash_. A book slipped from the shelf. Hit the floor. Sound exploded in the quiet room like thunder. Rohan froze. Mariam went still, breath caught in her throat. Footsteps. Fast. Urgent. Coming down the hall. Rohan’s mother. Panic flooded Mariam’s veins, cold and sharp. She pressed herself into shadow, magic curling around her like smoke. Her heartbeat was so loud she was sure it would give her away. The door burst open. Light spilled in, harsh and white. Rohan’s mother scanned the room, eyes sharp with sleep and worry. Rohan lay flat on his bed, eyes closed, breathing slow and even. The picture of innocence. Mariam held her breath. One second. Two. Three. The door closed. Footsteps faded. The danger passed. But midnight was still hunting her. Mariam pressed a hand to her chest. The Clock of Destiny was ticking somewhere far away, counting down seconds she didn’t have. She had to run. Eclipse would be waiting at the threshold between worlds, his staff tapping against stone, his eyes full of questions she couldn’t answer. Mariam’s eyes darted. Her mouth went dry. When Eclipse demanded answers, her lies came out sweet, smooth, no sugar needed. She spoke of night winds and restless dreams, of magic that pulled her from sleep. Eclipse studied her face. Searched her eyes. Then he smiled, proud. “For now,” the night seemed to whisper, “he believes her.” *2. FRIENDSHIP IS BORN* Dawn came slow, dragging gold across the sky. The moon retreated, shy and pale. The world turned warm. At twelve years old, Mariam and Rohan were already bound by something neither could name. Not love. Not yet. Something deeper. Something that felt like coming home to a place you’d never been. The Underworld and mortals had no connection. That was law. That was truth. But laws didn’t stop laughter. Truth didn’t stop pillow fights. They played in the clouds of their own world, white teeth flashing, joy spilling over. Rohan taught her how mortals counted stars. Mariam showed him how to make wind dance between his fingers. For a few hours, war didn’t exist. Then footsteps. Soft. Deliberate. The housemaid. Mariam moved without thinking. Shadow swallowed her. Rohan dropped to his bed in one breath, pulling the blanket to his chin. The door opened, paused, the maid’s eyes swept the room. Rohan slept. Mariam didn’t breathe. The door closed. Silence returned. Mariam shot into the air, cloak snapping behind her like a black flag. She flew full speed back to the Abyss Temple, the wind screaming past her ears. Her eyes flashed with fear and speed. She moved in plane mode, heart louder than thunder in her chest. Home. Tip-toe. Everyone asleep. She made it. For now. *3. LAST NIGHT* They were silver and gold. Mariam’s eyes were fresh as spring leaves after rain. Rohan’s smile was soft as sunrise over the Ganges. When they looked at each other, the world narrowed to just that — just them. For a moment, it felt endless. The moon smiled down on them like an Indian film scene, all light and music and impossible romance. But the Underworld was not smiling. Behind a neem tree, hidden in shadow, Fatma watched. Mariam’s mother. Her hands trembled. Tears fell like rain down her cheeks, silent and hot. Her own daughter. Laughing with a mortal boy. Love blooming where war should have been. The law was clear: mortals and spirits never touch. Never speak. Never love. Two hundred years ago, that love had cost them everything in Egypt. Ghost Hunters. War machines. Ash. Fatma moved before the Underworld could see her. Before Dark Lord could feel the disturbance in the air. In one breath, Mariam vanished from Rohan’s sight. Lights died. Spoons hit the floor. Chairs shook as if the house itself was angry. Rohan’s lips went dry, his mouth empty of words. His eyes searched the darkness, but there was nothing to see. Thunder rolled across the earth. Not from sky, but from below. Mariam’s broom shot into the sky, wood humming with magic. Her heart raced faster than the world’s fastest man. The wind tore at her hair, her cloak, her resolve. Fatma didn’t look back. Couldn’t. Back in the Underworld, deep beneath layers of stone and spell, Eclipse and Dark Lord were already talking. Their voices echoed through the halls like a death sentence. *4. A MEETING WITH DARK LORD* The throne room was cold. Torches burned blue, casting long shadows that moved even when no one did. The air smelled of iron and old blood. “Your daughter will leave the mortal boy,” Dark Lord’s voice cut like ice dragged over stone. Each word fell heavy, final. “She will marry the Prince of Egypt. The next Pharaoh. That was the oath made two hundred years ago, when we lost Cairo to ghost machines.” Eclipse bowed low. A wizard under command. A father with no choice. His knuckles were white around his staff. Later that night, Mariam was called to order. “Goodbye to Rohan,” Eclipse said. His voice was not unkind, but it was firm. Stone. “You are the chosen desert queen. Your marriage will restore what was lost. It will bring peace.” Mariam’s heart burned. Not with fire, but with something worse — grief. Tears she couldn’t hold fell hot and fast, burning tracks down her face. Minutes later, Eclipse left for his duties. Fatma left to hunt souls, her bottle clinking at her hip. And Mariam broke every rule. She flew to the mortal world one last time. Tears streamed the whole way, hot wind drying them before they could fall. “Rohan,” she whispered into his sleeping room. Just his name. Just once. But Dark Lord was already moving. Anger rolled off his throne like a storm, shaking the foundations of the Underworld. The Monster of the Underworld rose from his seat, cloak swirling, eyes burning red. The beast was coming. And Mariam had just called his name.