Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Whispers from the Van

The skies above Indrakalpa turned golden as the sun dipped low, painting the palace walls in warm shades of amber. A slow breeze whispered through the tall neem trees in the courtyard, rustling the leaves like a gentle warning.

Queen Vanshika sat under the shade of the royal pavilion, brushing Devika’s long dark hair as the child hummed softly. Her feet dangled off the edge of the stone seat, swaying with a rhythm only she could feel.

"Your hair is getting thicker, Devika," Vanshika smiled, weaving the last braid. "Like your grandmother's."

"Dadi's hair touched her waist, right?" Devika asked.

"Yes," Vanshika said, tying a silver ribbon at the end. "And she always said it carried the weight of wisdom."

Devika giggled. "Then I want my hair to carry secrets."

Vanshika's fingers paused. "Secrets?"

Devika nodded seriously. "Yes. Like the kind Ishaan hides under his bed."

The queen laughed. "Those are not secrets, my dear. Just unfinished homework and mango peels."

Before their laughter could fade, a servant arrived, bowing deeply.

"Maharani, Acharya Siddhesh seeks your presence. He awaits near the inner sanctum."

Vanshika exchanged a glance with Devika. "Tell him I will be there shortly."

As the servant left, Devika looked curious. "Why does the Acharya always wear white?"

"Because he walks with the stars," Vanshika said softly. "And stars wear silence."

---

In the quiet hall of the inner sanctum, torches cast long shadows against the ancient stone walls. Acharya Siddhesh stood before a large scroll, its edges worn and symbols etched in gold ink. His eyes didn’t move from the parchment as Vanshika entered.

"Is something troubling you, Acharya?" she asked.

He turned, bowing respectfully. "Yes, Maharani. The time is near."

"For what?"

"The next sign. The third moon of Ashwin has begun. It is said in the scrolls... when the child of Ashlesha touches the stone of origins, the shadows will whisper her name."

Vanshika's breath caught. "And the stone?"

"Lies in Tamas Van."

Silence fell like a curtain.

"That forest is cursed," she whispered. "You said she must be kept away from it."

"Yes. But fate does not wait for permission. The pull has begun."

---

Meanwhile, in the eastern wing of the palace, Devika sat in her room surrounded by scrolls. Her tutor, Acharya Kamal, droned on about the kingdoms of Bharatvarsha, but Devika's mind wandered.

"Princess," Kamal said sharply. "Are you listening?"

"Yes," Devika lied.

He squinted at her. "Repeat the last line I said."

Devika thought fast. "Uh... Mauryan empire was known for... mangoes?"

Kamal sighed. "Mercy of the gods."

Just then, her brother Vivaan burst in, holding a folded cloth. "Devika, look! I found an old map in the library!"

"Vivaan," Kamal scolded. "She is in the middle of--"

"History is best learned with maps," Vivaan interrupted with a grin. "Even you said that."

Devika rushed over, and together they spread the map across her study table. It was old, cracked at the edges, but still clear.

Vivaan pointed to a dark area shaded with black ink. "This... is Tamas Van. The Cursed Forest."

"Why cursed?" Devika whispered, eyes wide.

"No one really knows. Some say ghosts. Others say it's where time stands still."

"Have you ever been there?"

Vivaan shook his head. "Baba forbids anyone from going near."

Devika traced the border of the forest with her finger.

"It's calling," she whispered.

Vivaan stared at her. "What?"

She blinked. "Nothing. Just... it feels strange."

---

That evening, as the palace bustled with the usual rhythm of life, King Raghvendra sat in council with Senapati Viraj and Rajguru Varun.

"Bandits have been spotted again near the northern trade route," Viraj reported. "They escaped into Tamas Van."

Raghvendra’s jaw tightened. "Do not follow them into the forest. Seal the border. No soul enters."

Rajguru Varun, tall and thin, cleared his throat. "Maharaj, the ancient texts speak of a cycle. When the cursed forest begins to stir, it means one of two things: the arrival of a protector... or the rise of a destroyer."

"My daughter is neither," Raghvendra said firmly.

Varun lowered his eyes. "That remains to be seen."

---

Late at night, Devika could not sleep.

The wind howled through the palace corridors again, just like the night she was born. She wrapped a shawl around herself and slipped out of bed. With bare feet, she tiptoed past the guards and wandered into the garden.

The Moonlight Garden shimmered with soft light from glowing flowers. It was a place of peace. But tonight, even the flowers seemed to whisper.

She walked slowly toward the old marble bench in the middle, where she often sat with her brothers.

A soft voice echoed behind her.

"Do you hear it too?"

She turned sharply.

An old woman stood there, wrapped in a shawl of shadow. Her face was wrinkled, her eyes like burning coals.

"Who... who are you?" Devika asked.

The woman stepped forward. "Just a whisper. Just a dream."

Devika took a step back. "This garden is not for strangers."

The woman smiled. "And yet, you are not a stranger to the forest."

Devika's heart raced. "What forest?"

"Tamas Van."