Shastri's voice was low, almost resigned.
"Bhairav Kaal. I've heard the name before. Always in whispers. Never in trust."
Kabir shook his head. "And now we're supposed to trust him."
Riya's tone was sharp. "We don't trust him. We convince him."
Aarav nodded. "Exactly. Whatever it takes."
The four of them stood in silence for a moment, the weight of the decision pressing down. Sahil remained at the doorway, watching them with a mixture of pity and unease.
He hesitated, then turned back inside without a word. They heard faint movement — metal clinking, liquid being poured. A moment later, he returned holding a small steel cup filled with a dark herbal drink. A faint bitter smell rose from it.
He handed it to Riya. "Make her drink this."
Riya supported Meera gently and brought the cup to her lips. Meera swallowed slowly, wincing at the taste.
"It'll help her stay conscious, Ease the body a little."
Sahil said.
Aarav looked at him. "Will it stop… whatever's happening?"
He shook his head. "No. This only buys you time."
His gaze hardened. "Not much of it."
"How long?" Riya asked.
"A few hours," he replied quietly. "After that… she'll start fading again."
"Leave before dark," he repeated. "The path isn't safe after sunset."
Shastri turned to him. "Thank you. "
Sahil's reply was quiet. "Don't thank me. Just be careful."
They walked back toward the trail, the village fading behind them. The air was colder now, sharper, as if the warmth of human presence had already begun to dissolve behind them. Pine branches creaked overhead, stirred by a wind that hadn't existed minutes ago.
Kabir broke the silence. "So what's the plan? We just show up at his hut and beg?
Aarav's jaw tightened. "We show up. We explain. We don't beg. We make him understand."
Riya added, "And if he throws us out?"
Shastri answered softly. "Then we try again. Until he listens."
Kabir muttered, "Sounds like a suicide mission."
Aarav shot him a look. "Better than sitting here waiting for her to fade away."
Riya's voice was steady. "We're not losing her. Not like this."
Shastri closed his eyes briefly, then opened them with a grim resolve. "Bhairav Kaal. If he's the last thread left… we follow it."
The group continued walking, the forest closing in around them.
The trail narrowed as they climbed. The broken path the man had mentioned looked less like a road and more like something forgotten. Stones jutted unevenly from the ground, and dry leaves muffled their footsteps. The silence here felt different — not peaceful, but watchful.
Meera walked between Riya and Aarav, her movements slower now. Her breathing was shallow, as though each step demanded effort. Twice, she stumbled, and Aarav caught her before she fell.
Kabir noticed. "She's getting weaker."
Riya tightened her grip on Meera's arm. "We need to reach him fast."
The wind picked up again, colder this time. It carried a faint rustling sound that didn't quite match the movement of the trees. Kabir glanced behind them instinctively. The path they had taken already looked unfamiliar, swallowed by the forest.
"Tell me I'm not the only one feeling this," he said quietly.
Aarav didn't look back. "Keep walking."
After another ten minutes, the trail split exactly as described. One side looked slightly clearer, safer.
The other — broken, overgrown, barely visible — curved upward into denser trees.
Shastri pointed. "That one."
Kabir sighed. "Of course it's the creepy one."
They turned onto the broken path. The forest thickened immediately. Sunlight struggled to reach the ground, leaving the space dim even though it was still day.
Then Riya stopped. "Do you hear that?"
They all froze.
A faint metallic clinking echoed somewhere ahead. Slow. Irregular. Like something hanging and swaying in the wind.
Kabir swallowed. "Wind chimes?"
"No," Shastri said quietly. "Not here."
They moved forward cautiously.
The trees thinned just enough to reveal it — a dried, skeletal banyan tree, its branches twisted like frozen hands. Beneath it stood a small hut, tilted slightly to one side, its roof patched with mismatched pieces of tin and wood.
From the branches above the hut hung dozens of small objects — bones, threads, rusted bells, feathers — all swaying gently, producing the faint metallic sound they had heard.
Kabir whispered, "Okay… that's not unsettling at all."
No one replied.
A thin line of smoke rose from behind the hut. Someone was there.
Aarav took a slow breath. "This is it."
As they stepped closer, the bells hanging from the branches began to move more violently — even though the wind had stopped.
Riya's grip tightened on Meera. "Why did they just—"
Before she finished, a rough voice cut through the silence from inside the hut.
"I was wondering how long it would take."
The four of them froze.
The door creaked open slowly.
A tall figure stepped out, wrapped in a dark shawl, hair long and unkempt, eyes sharp despite the tiredness in them. He looked at them one by one — not curious, not surprised — just… knowing.
His gaze stopped on Meera.
A faint, humorless smile appeared.
"You're late," he said.
Then his head tilted slightly, studying Shastri with unsettling calm.
"So," he said quietly,"Has your daughter returned?"