Sitara and The Dayan

Chapter - Twenty Two

It was a spacious chamber, dominated by towering wooden shelves adorned with gleaming glass displays. The air was heavy with the scent of ancient wood and the lingering aroma of tea and crackling firewood. Torches flickered on each corner, casting dancing shadows across the room.

As Sitara, Vihaan, and Shaurya entered, the woman guided them to a sturdy bench positioned before a long table nestled in the far corner beside a towering shelf filled with weapons.

"I'm Bishaala I have forged many weapons for yourgrandmother," Bishaala said. "She knows I'm the right person. I have been making weapons for nearly two hundred years."

Sitara watched Bishaala carefully. Was she exaggerating when she said he had been working for two hundred years? That made her older than two hundred years. But she didn't look more than fifty. How old was she? How wasn't she crumbling to the ground? Was she a witch?

"So, you finally found a way to get rid of the witch?" Bishaala asked, moving boxes from the table and clearing it out. "She's obsessed with beauty and immortality, a true danger for Amrit Nagri."

"Are you a witch?" Sitara blurted out.

Bishaala paused, then smiled mysteriously. "No, I'm not a witch," she replied. "But I'm not quite human either. I'm a rakshasa."

Sitara gasped. "What?"

"Don't worry, I won't eat you?" she chuckled. "I know most humans assumed we were evil. But look, a rakshasa made this weaponry to help humans."

Bishaala's eyes sparkled as she pointed to the wall. A portrait of a very attractive man was hanging on the wall. Even though he looked young, there was a sense of deep wisdom surrounding him, like he knew secrets from ages ago.

"That is Namesh," she began, her voice carrying a sense of admiration. "He was a rakshasa, born and raised in Patala, the realm of demons. Yet, unlike the others of his kind, Namesh possessed a heart of kindness. Namesh was expelled from Patala by the other rakshasas because he wasn't as evil as them. Surprisingly, Namesh didn't feel sad about it. Instead, he chose to live in the mountains and used his skills to craft weapons capable of defeating wicked creatures," she continued. "People may have feared the rakshasa as creatures of darkness, but Namesh proved that true evil lies not in one's nature, but in the choices we make. He was proof that even the darkest souls can be touched by light."

Sitara gazed at the man's picture, noticing the red tint in his eyes, yet she couldn't detect any signs of evil. Viewing the place with a fresh perspective, she realized a rakshasa had constructed it to aid humans.

"After him, his great-great-grandson Vikranth has been taking care of it," said Bishaala while lighting additional candles around the room. "He is a good person, very responsible until he falls in love."

"What happened after that?" Sitara asked.

Bishaala sighed heavily, her expression clouded with disapproval. "He grew careless, neglecting his duties to the weaponry. He's living more with the humans, in their fancy cities, driving weird vehicles and using their technologies. He's not putting in enough effort to find gems and metals. We're running out of materials. It's been almost a year since we last got a supply. If I weren't here, I dread to think what would happen."

"He is careless because he knows we are here," a man stated upon entering the room, clutching a hammer. He appeared to be the same age as Bishaala, with a head of white hair and a friendly demeanor. "Greetings, kids, I'm Chandu, the guardian of this place," he declared, raising his hammer as if it were a powerful weapon.

"Did you fix that box?" inquired Bishaala, her tone tinged with skepticism.

"Have I ever left a job incomplete?" Chandu replied, twisting his mustache. "I believe I've earned a well-deserved drink." Casting a glance at Sitara, Vihaan, and Shaurya, he offered, "Would any of you care for some wine?"