BLACK DRAGON

The first rays of dawn crept through the window, stirring Smitha from her slumber. She blinked, disoriented, and found herself lying beside her grandmother. A wave of unease washed over her as the memories of the previous night flooded back – the strange frequencies, the unsettling events in the forest, the palpable sense of something unseen. She clung to her grandmother, seeking comfort in her familiar presence.

A gentle stir beside her indicated that Arundhati was awake. "My child," her grandmother's voice was soft, laced with concern, "you were restless last night. Something troubled you?" Smitha poured out her heart, recounting the inexplicable occurrences that had plagued her life. She spoke of the eerie frequencies that seemed to resonate within her, the unsettling experiences in the forest, and the growing feeling that she was caught in the midst of something far beyond her understanding.

Arundhati listened intently, her expression growing increasingly grave with each word. When Smitha finished, a deep sigh escaped her lips. "My child," she said, her voice heavy with worry, "your life is in danger. You must go to your parents immediately. It is the only way to ensure your safety."

Fear flickered in Smitha's heart, but a stronger emotion quickly extinguished it – a burning desire to understand the forces at play. "I will not run, Granny," she declared, her voice firm. "I will not hide from this. These things are happening to me, and me alone. I need to know why. I need to understand what is happening."

Arundhati's eyes widened in disbelief. "You are becoming more headstrong with each passing day," she exclaimed, her voice rising in exasperation. "You are reckless with your own life, little girl! You speak as if you can conquer the universe!" This outburst was unlike anything Smitha had ever witnessed from her gentle grandmother. It sent a shiver down her spine. Without another word, Arundhati turned and left the room, leaving Smitha stunned and confused.

Smitha sat on the edge of the couch, her mind reeling. She had never seen her grandmother so agitated. What was so dangerous, so terrifying, that it could elicit such a reaction from the woman who had always been her rock?

Meanwhile, Arundhati made her way to a small, secluded cottage at the back of the house. It was a structure that had been locked for years, its purpose a mystery to Smitha. Arundhati unlocked the door, slipped inside, and secured it from within. The air within the cottage felt heavy, charged with an unseen energy. Arundhati closed her eyes and began to meditate, her breathing deep and rhythmic.

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the cottage, seemingly from nowhere. "Arundhati, what brings you here?" Arundhati opened her eyes. "Can you show yourself?" she pleaded.

A figure materialized before her, a man dressed in a faded khaki coat and trousers. Arundhati gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Your Highness!" she whispered, her voice trembling. "You are still here? After all these years? Your soul…it is still bound to this earth? I performed all the rituals…why?"

The figure's voice was weary, tinged with sadness. "I was gone, Arundhati. But the Black Dragon cult has risen again. Their evil practices have begun anew, and they threaten to plunge the world into darkness. I cannot take human form, but I need the help of our grandchildren. Only they can stop this evil." Arundhati's heart pounded in her chest. "What must they do?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"They must rescue the God of Love and Prosperity from the clutches of the Black Dragon," the figure replied. "I tried to do it myself. I ventured into their treasure cave, but they ambushed me. I fought them, and I prevailed, but I was gravely wounded. The God of Love and Prosperity saved me, but now he is imprisoned." The figure's eyes were filled with pain. "The Black Dragon leader has grown powerful, fueled by the greed that consumes the hearts of men. He trapped the God of Love and Prosperity within the cave, exploiting his weakness. I was too weak to fight him, and I fell in battle."

Arundhati's face was etched with worry. "My lord, I fear for our grandchildren. I scolded Smitha today. Why must she face such danger?" "Arundhati," the figure said gently, "Smitha, her love, Rudra, and Tracy…they are the only ones who can undo this evil." Arundhati's eyes widened. "Rudra? You mean Smitha's cousin?" "Yes," the figure confirmed. "Only true love can rescue the God of Love and Prosperity."

Arundhati was overwhelmed. "I…I don't understand. I must tell Smitha everything. I must prepare her for this." "Yes, my love," the figure urged. "You must. For me." Arundhati nodded, her resolve hardening. "But…are you sure she will find love in this way?"

"She will," the figure said, a hint of certainty in his voice. Then, as quickly as he had appeared, he vanished into thin air. Just as the figure disappeared, Smitha emerged, searching for her grandmother. Arundhati, having composed herself, came out of the cottage and sat on the steps, lost in thought. Smitha rushed to her, her earlier anger forgotten. She threw her arms around Arundhati, apologizing for her defiance.

Arundhati hugged her granddaughter tightly. "It's nothing, my child," she murmured. "I was simply afraid…afraid that you would follow in your grandfather's footsteps." She sighed. "It is a long story, one that I will tell you later, after we have finished our morning chores. You are as stubborn as he was. I could never stop him, for his heart was set on protecting the world. And you…you seek to understand the very fabric of existence."

After breakfast and the morning chores were completed, Arundhati led Smitha to the locked cottage. Smitha had always been curious about this mysterious room, but she had always respected her grandmother's wishes and never attempted to open it. Today, however, Arundhati herself held the key.

They entered the cottage, and Smitha gasped. The room was not dusty and neglected as she had imagined. It was meticulously maintained, beautifully decorated. Photographs adorned the walls, depicting a handsome man. In one photo, he stood with a beautiful woman. Smitha's breath caught in her throat. The man looked exactly like her brother, Rudra. And the woman…she looked exactly like her grandmother.

Arundhati picked up the photograph, gently wiping away a speck of dust. "This," she said, her voice filled with a bittersweet nostalgia, "is our first photograph, taken before our engagement, in a studio." Smitha stared at the picture, her mind struggling to comprehend what she was seeing. "But…Rudra…he looks just like…"

Arundhati smiled sadly. "When your uncle brought Rudra to our home, I was stunned. He was the image of your grandfather in his youth. This photo…it was taken when we met again after many years. It caused quite a stir in both our families, this little game of fate. It eventually led to our marriage." She paused, her gaze distant. "I blamed him at first, but our bond grew stronger with each passing day. We realized that we had loved each other for years, perhaps lifetimes."

Arundhati's voice softened. "Years passed, filled with joy and love. We became parents, then grandparents. But one day, everything changed."

Her expression darkened. "Your grandfather was the king of this nation, Maharana Pratap. I was his queen, Rudravathi Pratap. After his death, I took the name Arundhati, for the title of queen felt empty without him. The world had changed, new rules, new politics. I retreated into the woods, seeking solace. My loyal followers came with me, and we lived a simple life, like ordinary villagers."

Arundhati's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Your grandfather…he sent your father to America before he died. He wanted to protect him from the Black Dragon. Your father was just a boy then. He worked tirelessly, day and night, to achieve the success he has today."

Arundhati took a deep breath, steeling herself to continue the story. "One day, your grandfather and I were on the balcony, enjoying a rare moment of peace. After so many years, I was finally able to be with him again. He was always busy with his court, his kingdom. After an hour, a soldier came to us and told us that a man was visiting us. We welcomed him. He was a young man. He reminded me of your father, whom I hadn't seen in a long time. The young man said, 'Your Highness, I would like to establish a new gold-making business in your kingdom. I am a goldsmith, and if you see my work, I will help other goldsmiths, and your country will prosper.' Your grandfather agreed, and he made me a beautiful necklace of the latest design. I liked him very much, and we saw him as our own son."

Arundhati's voice trailed off, leaving the story unfinished.