• The history of his death...

Gauri gently patted Arya's head, her touch a mixture of affection and lingering concern. Her fingers lightly traced the edge of the bandage Veda had applied. Just as the tense atmosphere seemed to ease slightly, a pen rolled off the nearby table. Arya leaned down to retrieve it. In that exact moment, a sharp, gleaming knife fell from seemingly nowhere, landing with a sickening thud just inches from where Arya's head had been. It skittered across the floor and embedded itself in the wooden wall with a sharp thwack.

A collective gasp filled the room. Arya froze in his crouched position, his eyes wide with shock. Gauri stared at the knife, her blood running cold. The others, startled by the sudden sound, turned to see the near-miss. The area above where the knife had fallen was empty. There was no ledge, no open window, nothing to explain its sudden appearance.

Isha, oblivious to the immediate danger, came and sat beside Gauri, her camera in hand. "Look at some of the cool pics I took!" she said, scrolling through her gallery. Several shots were of the castle's architecture, the dusty furniture, and their group exploring. Then, one photo made Gauri's breath catch. "Wait," she said, pointing at the screen. "Go back a little."

Isha swiped back a few images. There it was: the picture of Gauri in the royal court, holding the cushion that had held Dev Karan Rawat's crown. As Gauri had been explaining its weight and significance, a dark, elongated shadow loomed directly behind her. It was much taller than her, a featureless silhouette that seemed to be intently focused on her. It felt like it was staring, almost glaring, though no discernible features were visible. Gauri hadn't noticed it at the time.

"Guys, look at this," Gauri said, her voice hushed, calling the others over and pointing at the shadowy figure in the photo.

Veda's eyes widened, his usual skepticism momentarily forgotten. Arya, his earlier bravado replaced by a nervous edge, said, "Whoa… what is that? Another ghost? We've been lucky so far, but anything could happen now." Jai nodded somberly, echoing his concern. "We need to be careful."

Veda, his scientific curiosity battling with a growing sense of unease, murmured, "The activity is escalating. The near-miss with the knife… this shadow… it's as if the spirits are becoming more… direct. Perhaps," he conceded slowly, "it is a sign that we are indeed getting closer to some truth."

Isha, surprisingly resolute, chimed in, her initial shock replaced by a strange determination. "Then we can't stop now. We have to keep going!"

A sense of unease hung in the air as they cautiously made their way back towards the grand court hall, drawn by the faint, unsettling noises that had drifted through the castle's corridors. However, upon entering the vast space, they were met only by an echoing silence. The ornate armchairs stood empty, the golden throne remained unoccupied, and the air was still and heavy with unspoken history.

Veda, ever the voice of (relative) reason, gestured for them to sit down on the nearby benches and armchairs. "Alright, everyone, calm down. Take a seat. There's something I need to tell you." He looked thoughtful, the weight of his recent discoveries evident in his expression.

Once they had settled, scattered around the silent courtroom, Veda began to speak, his voice low and measured. "It seems Dev Karan Rawat wasn't entirely unlucky, at least not in every aspect. The texts suggest he was a powerful ruler, respected by many. Had fate allowed him a few more years, it's mentioned that he was betrothed to a woman renowned for her beauty, and there was anticipation of a peaceful and prosperous reign."

A shadow crossed Veda's face. "But… fate, as it often does, intervened cruelly. One of Dev's most trusted partner nations, driven by greed for his power and territory, saw an opportunity. They launched a surprise attack on the kingdom during the festival of the goddess Mahakali, a night when the Rawat people were forbidden by tradition from bearing arms."

Veda's voice gained a note of respect as he continued. "Despite being caught off guard and unarmed, Dev Karan, along with a handful of loyal companions and soldiers, fought valiantly. Their priority was to protect the sacred puja sthal (worship place) and prevent the intruders from desecrating it. In the fierce struggle that ensued, Dev and his brave defenders ultimately lost their lives."

A hush fell over the group as they absorbed the tragic tale of the warrior king. Isha, breaking the silence, sighed wistfully. "Wow… what a brave man. He fought unarmed to protect his people's sacred place. He really was something." She looked almost starstruck. "I definitely need that autograph now, even more than before!"

Arya, however, seemed less romantic and more pragmatic. "Damned treachery," he muttered, shaking his head. "To attack someone during a religious festival… that's low."