A Danav By Derailment Of Destiny (3)

Asking around more people about this Rava and as to where can one find him, Chetas found himself in front of an old hut with cracked walls, broken windows and a half missing roof.

Finding no door to knock on, Chetas thumped his knuckles on the wall lightly, worried he might cause some form of destruction to the property that he would have to pay for. Hearing no answer, he knocked again with a little more force; dust from the roof fell on him like dry rain.

This time he heard a groan and, after a few seconds, a drunken voice, "Who ish it?!"

The darkness within the house made it difficult to identify the man behind the voice. "Excuse me, I'm sorry to disturb you but I was told I would find Rava here. Are you Rava?" Chetas asked in the most respectful tone he could muster up. One would think being an Amalung had him be showered with respect and praises but more often than not, the work only gave him insults, curses and mockery.

Hence, for the sake of his self-esteem, it was best to not reveal who he really was.

"Hah! I'd die if I were him." The occupant spar on the floor and gave a wheezy laugh. Chetas heard some rustling of cloth and struggling noises before the occupant stood in the light. Thin man with yellow and rotten teeth, wisps of facial hair long enough to reach his hairy bare chest, his stained dhoti—which Chetas assumed had been white once upon a time—ripped in several places.

The occupant tumbled his way towards Chetas and stood close enough to disrespect every form of personal space. Chetas wondered if this man ate apples too. He looked at Chetas' katar and talwar and glanced back up with his lazy eyes. "Are you here to kill him? Rava?" he asked, his breath smelling worse than any Danav's corpse Chetas had had the misfortune of smelling.

"That depends." Chetas took a step back.

"On what?" The occupant tried to step forward too, but was stopped by Chetas' arm.

"On what he is. A human or a Danav." Seeing that the drunken man made no more effort to move ahead, he placed his hand back onto the hilt of his talwar. "And who are you?"

"That Danav's pita."

"Aren't you worried that I would kill him?"

"Hah!" Rava's father gave yet another wheezy laugh and stepped inside his hut again. Sounds of rummaging around came from inside. "I would have done the deed myself if not for- Ah, found it," he came out with a bottle that Chetas guessed contained some alcohol. Taking a sip from it, he continued, "If not for that damned curse, that stain on my family would have been long dead."

"What curse?" Chetas asked.

Before the father could answer, another voice interrupted them, "Who are you?"

The voice belonged to the Danav himself.