"What?" Arya replied, taken aback by that question. His sword lowered a bit but he steadied himself again.
Arya hesitated, his gaze shifting between the girl and the rakshasa at his mercy. Conflicting emotions gripped Arya in that moment, a clash between the grotesque reality of the rakshasas and the seemingly genuine concern of the little girl. He thought for a moment, "Was she really her daughter?" He was sure that the girl was kidnapped and was a hostage here.
Shock and anger surged through Arya as he looked at Pakshini again.
"You have not only deceived me and tried to kill me but you also have taken that girl hostage, casting an illusionary magic on her," Arya spoke with suppressed anger.
"It isn't like that, please believe me," Pakshini pleaded yet more, her eyes now welling with tears.
But why should he believe her, he thought. Rakshasas were nothing more than the embodiment of evil. They had caused him immense pain and grief. He looked at the girl again, she was still looking at him with her resolute eyes. He lowered his sword a bit and directed his attention towards Pakshini.
"Fine," he said with a clenched jaw, then taking a deep calming breath he kept his sword still raised at her.
"Thank you. Thank you o kind warrior." Pakshini cried. "I did not kidnap her, traveller. She was left orphaned after a bandit attack took her family. Alone and scared, I found her. I yearned for motherhood, and so, I created an illusion for her—a world where she could find comfort and love."
"What nonsense," snorted Arya, "What do you know about love?"
But as he said that, he looked at her once more, even though they were in a dark and dreary place, the girl looked like she was cared for. The look in Pakshini's eyes was not so dissimilar from the look that Arya's Guru had for him. It was a look of concern and love.
Arya's hand shook as he pointed the sword at Pakshini. Conflicting emotions played across his face—a battle between distrust and a flicker of sympathy. He wasn't ready to relent, yet the genuine concern in the girl's eyes tugged at his resolve. "But it's not real! She deserves to live in the real world, not some illusion." His sword hand trembling slightly.
Pakshini pleaded evermore, "O kind warrior, the real world can be cruel. In my illusion, she is happy, loved, and protected. Isn't that what every child deserves?"
"Remove your illusion and let her see the real world for herself," demanded Arya. "How do I trust you that this is still not some illusion?"
"But traveller-", Pakshini pleaded with him.
"Do it or I will kill you and break the illusion myself." Said Arya with flames of anger in his eyes.
It was as if someone had hit the little girl on her head. The once idyllic scene morphed into the grotesque reality of the Mayajangal—the pile of carcasses, the stench of death. Whatever illusion she was in was broken. The little girl, initially bewildered, looked around with wide eyes.
"Mother," she cried.
Arya, with trepidation, knelt before her. "Hey, don't worry. You are safe, I will keep you safe."
The girl, frightened by the sudden change, looked at Arya and then at Pakshini. Slowly, recognition dawned on her face, and a smile replaced the fear. "Mother!" she exclaimed, running into the rakshasa's outstretched arms.
Even though the illusion was lifted, the girl still chose Pakshini as her mother. Pakshini was consoling the child, tears in her eyes and a real concern for her.
Arya, grappling with the complexity of the situation, got up. He pointed his sword at Pakshini again and demanded answers. "Tell me, Pakshini, What is this? Is she still in an illusion? Why should I let you be with her?"
Pakshini, her moist eyes sincere, responded, "Because, traveller, I have no ill intentions towards this child. I promise to protect her, to let her live a life of happiness and safety. If it's the real world you seek for her, I'll make sure she lives in it, concealing my true identity."
"Then why?" His voice cracked, "Why haven't you done that already? Why be here and deceive travellers?"
"I was forced to, I swear." She sobbed covering the child's ears, "These rakshasas forced me to help them otherwise they would kill her." She looked at the child and then back at Arya again.
"I was powerless against them. I had no choice but to obey them." And she began to cry. Big teardrops fell from her eyes, making the already damp ground wet.
The girl was now wiping the tears in her eyes and saying, "Please don't cry, Mother."
He looked at her eyes, they were beady, moist and sincere. They had a genuine concern for the girl. Arya still conflicted, finally made his decision. "Promise me, Pakshini. Promise me that you'll protect her and that you'll let her lead a normal life."
The rakshasa extended her hand, and Arya grasped it firmly. "I promise, traveller, on the bond of our words I give you my Vachan. She will be safe, I will move to the nearby village to keep her safe and raise her in a human environment."
A golden thread emerged and connected Arya and Pakshini's hands. It wound on his wrist and tied itself into a crimson armband. It did the same for her.
"If the thread breaks ever, that means I have not kept my word." Pakshini said taking a steadying breath she continued, "And I will lose my life."
Taken aback by this huge commitment she had taken, Arya stood there dumbfounded. He did not know how to react to this. He lowered his sword slightly and then sheathed it.
Looking at the red armband on his arm again, he looked at Pakshini and the girl.
"May you find peace and happiness," he said softly. "And may you keep your promise."
As he walked away, the weight of his decision lingered, questioning whether he had chosen the right path for the child caught between two worlds. Arya departed, the weight of uncertainty lingering on his conscience, questioning if he had made the right choice.