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Chapter 4 - FOUR-The Mayajangal (1)

It was a bright sunny day. The breeze blew against Arya's face as he walked westwards. On his friends' and Gurudev's request, Arya had stayed for the night and decided to embark on his adventure the next morning. He had not come far from the Gurukul. He could still see the main gate and the fence but he decided not to look back. 

His journey on foot was a slow affair. He took in the scenery, the smells and the ever-flowing breeze. It was the Vasant (Spring) season. The flora was in full recovery, and the jungles were thick as ever. The soft soil crumbled under Arya's feet. His satchel hanging from his shoulder with the shield tied on his back, Arya was walking at a steady pace his sword strapped to his left side. 

He came upon a thick jungle with a narrow opening. Arya looked at the sun in the sky. It was getting to midday, and he decided that it was the right time to enter the jungle as he would avoid the direct sunlight in the shade of the canopy. 

As Arya treaded through the dense forests on his way to the Western Ghats, the air hung heavy with the sweet fragrance of blooming trees. The path he took was seldom travelled, and the symphony of bird songs echoed through the vast greenery. The canopy of the trees provided him with much-needed shade. The path was beautiful but it had a haunting quality to it. All of the sounds and sights seemed too pleasant. This did not strike well with Arya, who was taught to follow his own instincts over anything.

Amidst this tranquil backdrop, he encountered a peculiar bird, its feathers resplendent against the lush foliage, with a sweet voice and a very ornate appearance. Together with the inviting fauna and the serene soundscape, the bird did not look out of place. The bird flew towards Arya and he for some reason spread out his palm for her to land on. 

The bird, with a sense of urgency in its voice, pleaded with Arya for help. "Kind traveller, I beseech you! A hawk threatens my nest just a few paces ahead in the heart of this forest. Please, follow me and save my offspring."

A sudden sense of responsibility grew inside of Arya, he felt that he needed to help the bird at this instant. Intrigued and moved by the plea, Arya nodded, agreeing to lend his assistance.

"What has happened to your nest?" Asked a worried Arya.

"I was about to fetch some food for my offspring when-," the bird sobbed. "I hope they are safe and we get back in time to save them, kind traveller." The bird continued with an equally worried tone.

As Arya ventured deeper into the woods, the melody of sweet fragrances dissipated, replaced by an oppressive miasma that stung his nostrils. The air thickened, clinging to his skin like a suffocating cloak, and a disquieting sense of dread washed over him. It was a stench of blood, raw and metallic, tainted with the acrid scent of decay. 

The vibrant hues of the forest faded, the verdant greens and lively blues draining away like watercolours on a sun-baked canvas. The surroundings turned dull and lifeless, the haunting quality he'd witnessed earlier returning with renewed intensity. The trees loomed like skeletal sentinels, their gnarled branches reaching out like grasping claws. The undergrowth seemed to writhe and coil beneath his feet as if possessed by some unseen malevolence.

Arya snapped out of the illusion, realizing he had entered what unmistakably was a deceptive forest known for its illusions—the Mayajangal. He had learned about the Mayajangal in the Gurukul. His Guruji had told him, "Anyone who enters the Mayajangal never comes back alive. It is a place of immense illusion magic and maya." 

Despite the eerie surroundings and the shuddering thought that he might not make it out of the Mayajangal, he pressed on, determined to fulfil his promise to the bird. He was coming up to the place where the bird had told him the nest would be. It was a clearing in the forest. 

Even without the canopy of the trees, the area of the clearing was dark, damp and musty. There was not even the faintest sight of the blazing afternoon sun. Looking for the nest Arya looked towards the gnarled trees. Instead of finding a nest, he stumbled upon a gruesome sight—a heap of animal and human carcasses, blood seeping into the earth and that foul stench permeating throughout the area.

Shock and anger surged through Arya as he discerned the true nature of the illusion. Rakshasas, the evil beings that had been the cause of his misery and grief not even a week ago, revelled in their macabre feast. Their contorted shapes devoured the decaying carcases, their claw-like hands tearing away at the flesh. 

He felt a cool sensation around his neck. He instinctively clutched the Rudraksha bead around his neck. It soothed him, bringing him back to reality and a calmness like a still lake took over Arya. He was now free from the mental trap, readying himself for an imminent confrontation.

Just as he prepared to draw his sword, a faint laughing caught his ears.

Curiosity tempered his instinct to strike immediately. Peering through the foliage, Arya discovered a figure—a human girl amidst the grotesque feast, smiling and laughing as if she were playing in her backyard. She had a doll made of clay and was playing with it without an ounce of worry about her surroundings. He hesitated, choosing to observe and strategize rather than rushing headlong into the perilous scene. 

At first, he thought, "It must be an illusion of the rakshasas. Yes, they are known for their illusion magic and trickery." But the more he looked at her the more real she looked. It was a girl of around 10 years of age with long black hair tied neatly in a ponytail. She was wearing a long, loose tunic that extended below the knees. It looked like it was made from soft and lightweight fabric like cotton. She was also wearing some jewellery. 

Then it clicked for him—"She must be in an illusion," he thought, "tricked by the rakshasas to come to the forest with them." Arya steeled his resolve, ready to free the girl from her captors and destroy these foul creatures. As he was about to draw his sword—Wham! Arya was knocked back with considerable force slamming him into a nearby tree.