CHAPTER 2:- The Golden Gleam and the Curse Beneath

Rohila Bai sat on the floor, her frail body curled slightly, her hands folded in her lap. The weather outside was grim—a thick, dark cloud had settled over the valley, obscuring the sun and plunging the room into a muted gray. The wind howled outside, making the trees sway as if they, too, were listening to her every word. The children sat in stunned silence, their eyes wide, their breaths shallow, as if the air in the room had grown heavier with every word she spoke. The gloom of the day pressed against the windows like a living thing, casting the mansion in an oppressive silence.

She leaned forward, her eyes locking onto Mahima and Vijay with a gaze that made the hairs on the back of their necks rise. "After the traitor became Garika, after the forest had fallen into darkness, the world itself began to shift. The land itself was no longer the same. And then…"

Rohila Bai's voice faltered. She wiped at her eyes, her fingers shaking. "Then came the Angrez."

The children exchanged a confused glance. "Angrez?" Vijay whispered, his voice trembling.

Rohila Bai nodded slowly, her face darkening with the weight of history. "Yes, the Angrez. (The British)." She uttered the word with a slight sneer, as though it tasted bitter on her tongue.

The wind outside seemed to grow louder, making the trees groan as if in agreement.

"They came from across the seas, bringing their strange customs and their pale faces. People feared them, but even more than that, they feared the way they seemed to rule, to own everything they saw. The Angrez arrived, and with them, a new darkness settled on the land. The people had lived in fear of Garika for generations, but now they feared these foreign rulers even more. The villagers, though, still whispered of the forest. They warned them to stay away, to not enter the woods, for they were cursed, and there was no telling what would happen if anyone dared to disturb the peace that Garika had claimed."

Rohila Bai's voice lowered as she spoke of the officer. "There was one British officer, a young man, handsome and full of pride. He was appointed to govern over these lands. He and his lady—his wife, the first foreign woman the villagers had ever seen—were given the grand mansion as their residence. The villagers, frightened as they were, warned him about the woods. They begged him to stay away, to not venture near the cursed land where Garika roamed."

Mahima and Vijay sat on the edge of their seats, entranced by the unfolding tale. The wind howled outside, casting shadows on the walls, as though the house itself was listening.

"But he laughed at their warnings," Rohila Bai went on, her voice almost breaking with the memory. "He mocked them, called them foolish and superstitious. He said it was their fear that allowed the Angrez to rule over them. He thought himself invincible, and he thought the woods were nothing more than a story, a thing to frighten children. He believed only in power, in the might of the British Empire, and he dared to prove it. That night, he and his wife decided to take a carriage ride through the forest, right through the cursed woods, to show the villagers they had nothing to fear."

The children listened, fear growing in their hearts. The storm outside intensified, its winds making the trees creak and groan as if protesting the officer's arrogance.

"My father was the driver that night," Rohila Bai continued, her voice growing heavy with emotion. "He was the only servant who had not refused the task, though every other servant had refused to drive them into the forest after nightfall. They all feared what lurked there, but my father—he was loyal. He thought that with a little more money, he could give me a better life. He took the job, though he knew the forest was no place for anyone, especially not the Angrez."

Rohila Bai's face clouded with sorrow, her eyes brimming with tears. "As they drove along the road, away from the mansion and into the forest, my father could feel the change in the air. The atmosphere grew thick, heavy, like the very earth itself was pressing down on them. The trees closed in, their twisted branches reaching out like gnarled hands, clawing at the sky."

She paused, her voice trembling with the recollection.

"And then, the golden light appeared."

Vijay and Mahima leaned in, their breath caught in their throats.

"It started as a flicker in the distance," Rohila Bai murmured, "a tiny reflection that seemed to glow from the darkest corners of the forest. The officer, intrigued, ordered my father to stop the carriage. He wanted to see the source of the light."

"My father knew better. He refused to stop, his hands gripping the reins, urging the horses forward. But then… that tune—soft at first, like the flutter of a bird's wings—began to drift on the air."

She sighed, a deep, sorrowful breath. "My father could feel it too. The magic, the pull of the forest, growing stronger with every moment. But he refused. He drove faster, his heart pounding in his chest. Yet, the tune grew louder, clearer. It was like a whisper in the back of his mind, a song that sank deep into his soul."

The children listened intently, their eyes wide with fear.

"My father had no choice but to stop when the officer ordered him again, his voice sharp with anger. My father's loyalty, even for a few coins, was tested that night. He could not refuse. The couple, already in a state like hallucination, slowly got out of the carriage and began to walk toward the woods. My father tried to stop them—he begged them, pleaded with them to return. But they were beyond hearing. The magic of the forest had already claimed them."

Rohila Bai's voice cracked, and a tear slid down her cheek as she remembered the horror her father had witnessed.

"They... they walked toward the light. My father, helpless, had no choice but to follow. The golden light in the woods grew brighter and brighter, more intense with every step. And the melody—oh, the melody—it was like the heartbeat of the forest itself. My father could feel the invisible eyes of Garika upon them, watching, waiting. He begged them to stop, but they couldn't hear him. The couple was lost to the magic."

Rohila Bai's voice dropped to a near whisper. "A mansion, much like the one they had left behind, stood before them in the heart of the forest. It was dark, yet the windows glowed with an unnatural light. He could hear the sounds of laughter, the music of a ball, just as he had seen before in this very mansion—those British balls where the guests danced, oblivious to the evil that watched them. The officer and his lady did not hesitate. They walked towards the mansion, eager to explore this strange, mysterious place."

She paused, her eyes filling with unshed tears as she spoke of the horror her father had witnessed.

"My father, realizing the danger too late, rushed to the door of the mansion, desperate to stop them. He banged on the door, tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge. Then he saw through the window—the couples inside, dancing, laughing, talking—everything so normal, so beautiful. But he knew… he knew it was a trap. Garika was playing with them, luring them to their deaths."

Her voice broke with the weight of the memory.