Wham! Arya was knocked back with considerable force slamming him into a nearby tree. The shield on his back had soaked up most of the impact. He quickly got to his feet, looking around frantically. The clearing was still damp, dark, cold and musty. The foul stench still lingered and brought Arya back to his senses again. He looked up and saw something incredible.
The bird whom Arya had followed here was nowhere to be seen, instead, a woman was standing in front of him. Except it couldn't be. She had talons for hands and feet and a pair of wings were growing grotesquely from her back. She had an ethereal feel to her. She was a rakshasa. But unlike her kin, she was, no matter how you looked at her, beautiful.
The woman's eyes met Arya's, and a wicked grin stretched across her face. "Welcome to my playground, little warrior," she hissed her voice a haunting melody that sent shivers down Arya's spine. The hair on his neck stood on its end. He instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword, ready for any attack that might come his way.
"Why play tricks on a lone traveller?" Arya demanded, his voice steady despite the unsettling atmosphere.
The rakshasa circled him, her movements fluid and otherworldly. "Oh, dear warrior, the forest feeds on fear, and fear brings delectable illusions. It's a feast for us. As for you, well, you stumbled into our little game." She chuckled, the sound echoing through the eerie clearing. "But before that, shall we not introduce ourselves? I will go first, I am Pakshini"
Arya's mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. The illusory forest, the grotesque feast, and now this rakshasa who seemed more interested in toying with him than attacking outright. He looked towards the small girl still playing with her doll, she looked and was most probably real.
"What do you want?" Arya asked, maintaining a defensive stance.
The rakshasa paused, her predatory gaze fixed on him. "That won't do. Where are your manners? I introduced myself so now it's your turn."
"You don't have the right to know my name you filthy rakshasa" spat Arya still eyeing her with burning hatred, his hazel eyes glinting maliciously.
"Oh well, she said," and with a wave of her talon-adorned hand, the clearing transformed. The damp and dark atmosphere shifted to a vibrant meadow bathed in sunlight. The stench of decay was replaced by the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers. The illusion was so convincing that Arya felt a momentary disorientation.
The rakshasa continued to circle him, her wings casting an otherworldly shadow. "What say you, warrior? Will you dance with us in the symphony of illusions and entertain us, or will you resist and face the consequences?"
Arya stood still, keeping an eye on the other rakshasas who were now finished with their macabre feast and looked at him hungrily. He readied himself and steeled his mind. His hand instinctively reached for the Rudraksha pendant around his neck. It calmed him down. In a swift motion, Arya pulled the shield from his back and drew his sword, taking a defensive stance.
"Suit yourself," she hissed. "Get him!"
It was a surreal scene, in a vibrant meadow, rakshasas were attacking a lone warrior. He swung at one of the rakshasas, instead of his word cutting the rakshasa in half, the sword passed through it like it was made of smoke. Arya looked bewildered but he had not time to think as the next moment the rakshasa had taken a swipe at him with its claw-like hand. Arya defended himself with the shield, his knees buckling slightly under the weight. It felt like three swords had hit the shield with great force at once. All the while Pakshini cackled menacingly in the background.
Each blow reverberated through Arya's shield, sending shockwaves through his body. The contorted forms of the rakshasas taunted him, their jeers echoing as he skilfully parried, his sword slashing like a silver serpent through the still air. His feet sank into the soft, damp mud with every blow he blocked with the shield. He had not managed to land a single hit on any of the rakshasas. He closed his eyes.
"Given up already?" Snarled a rakshasa.
"If I cannot see them, I can feel their presence, I can feel their malice and bloodlust," thought Arya. He concentrated hard, urging his ears and nose to do the heavy lifting. This had done it. In his mind's eye, Arya could feel their presence, their bloodlust. He started reacting to their blows more effectively. Slowly, Arya was now in a position where he was comfortable enough that he could hit back. He slashed his sword, which moved like a silver serpent in the still air. He felt it. He had sliced off a rakshasas arm.
The cackling in the background had stopped. He readied his sword and attacked the rakshasas one by one. He had the upper hand now. He slowly opened his eyes. The illusion was gone, Arya was standing in the clearing with a heap of rakshasas dead at his feet. Pakshini had a frightened look on her face, she was no longer smiling.
Arya stood amidst the fallen rakshasas, his sword still gleaming with the remnants of the surreal battle. The clearing, once haunted by illusions, now bore witness to the aftermath of a very real confrontation. As Arya caught his breath, he turned his attention to Pakshini
He lunged at her, his sword still dripping with the green blood of her kin. She swiftly dodged his attack. Her predatory gaze was replaced with a glint of fear as Arya approached her. He pointed the sword at her, ready for any sudden movement. But Pakshini, seemingly drained of her earlier confidence, did not attempt to resist. Her wings were now folded and her talon-like hands turned to human hands.
"Please hear me out traveller." She pleaded, looking up at Arya whose sword was now pointed directly at her throat. She had joined her hands together she looked worried and defeated.
"Why should I?" Arya said through gritted teeth. "Why should I listen to some foul creature?" He raised his sword arm ever so close to her throat.
She opened her mouth to say something but that's when something hit Arya on his thigh. Startled by this, he took a step back looking for his assailant. To his surprise, it was the girl. Tears in her eyes, she was charging at him with stones in her hands. Her black hair tied in a ponytail swaying with each step she took. Pakshini whirled around and stood in front of her with her arms outstretched.
"Don't do that, drop those stones," she pleaded with the child.
"But-" She protested but decided against it after a look from Pakshini.
To Arya's surprise, the girl unperturbed by her surroundings and the appearance of Pakshini, listened to her.
The girl looked at Arya. She spoke, tears still streaming down her face, her eyes resolute, "What are you doing to my mother?", her innocence in stark contrast to the grim scene.