The forest here was different from that of Parthan forest. The Twilight here lingered uncomfortably longer than the sharp drop of darkness Rudra was habituated with. The dusk here didn't come with vivid orange-red-golden sky like in Partha. Rather, it was a cold, eerie blue hour- the light didn't fade so much as it drained, leaving the trees standing black and crooked against a sky that was the colour of a purple bruise.
The forest consisted of sparse, stunted conifers with wide gaps between them-, often leaning at odd angles. They were quite different from the broad-leaved canopy trees of Pathan Region. There was no thorny scrub, bamboo grooves or any Banyan or Peepal tree with sprawling roots.
The ground itself steamed faintly- fog pooling low, clinging to hollows. The forest here didn't get loud before sunset like Parthan Forest. It just watched.
Rudra walked through the fog with Nayan tagging behind. "You are not surprised," she said, "And you are not panicking."
Rudra didn't answer at first. He kept his eyes fixed at the shadow behind the treeline looking for the missing goat (his name is Konstantin by the way.
"Your Highness?"
Nayan pestered him further.
"______"
"Rudra!"
"What!" Rudra turned, "Sooner or later, that man is going to find the sword of Mamon anyways!" He threw his hands in the air. In the quiet of the forest even his own voice felt too loud, "I know they are after my life, okay? I am aware! I died, Nayan!" He jabbed his finger at the center of his chest, "I was stabbed here by the sword!"
"And you wait?" Nayan spat, "You are letting them find the sword?"
"The sword isn't in Alaka, Nayan," Rudra's voice dropped, "It's here . In Benevia."
"How do you know?" Nayan demanded.
"Haven't you been listening?" Rudra snapped. "The dream, Nayan! I have lived my entire life in this dream! I have been to Alaka!"
Nayan stared. She didn't look like she believed him. "You have been going on about it for days now," she said, her voice dry. "This has gone too far."
Rudra opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"You don't trust me." It wasn't a question. Nayan didn't say no. She kept looking at him, frowning a little. Rudra could see that she wanted to believe him. And that was the worst part.
"I kidnapped the Saintess," Rudra confessed. "I flew to Alaka with her because that was the only place on earth where nobody could reach us. That black-haired man followed us a few months later."
"Nobody can survive Alaka," Nayan argued. "If anyone goes even near that place, their nose and ears start bleeding, their bones start decaying, their hair starts—"
"Yes," Rudra agreed. "Nobody can. Except she and I. We can heal our bodies. We were affected by the curse too — we were dying too. But slower. Our bodies fought back the curse."
It was sound logic. She didn't have a counter for that.
"It hurt like hell sometimes, though," Rudra chuckled darkly. "I had horrible headaches. Tish spent most days lying in bed. I didn't even have to tie her down."
Nayan didn't look shocked or suspicious. The brown in her eyes went soft.
"Why did you do it?" she asked. "In your dream — why did you take the Saintess?"
Rudra started walking again. "It was nothing. I was being an asshole. As usual."
Nayan walked faster and easily caught up with him. "You are an asshole, yes," she nodded, "But you're not an asshole without reasons. You never went out of your way to hurt anyone for no reason." Two seconds of blissful silence. "Really, Rudra — why did you do it?"
Rudra blinked several times. He could feel his heart beating faster, steam rising off his body, making him a walking hearthstone in the ever-growing cold of the forest.
"Because they killed you."
He could hear Nayan take a shaky exhale. He waited for the rebuke, the cuss words, the you are an absolute lunatic outburst.
"Honestly?" Nayan snorted. "If someone killed you, I'd have burned down a country too."
Rudra froze. He turned around. Nayan had that rare, thoughtful look on her face — the one that only surfaced when she was making extremely important life decisions, like picking a present for her wife or choosing what to eat for dinner.
She held her hands up, fingers spread, in a gesture of surrender. "I would have kidnapped not just the Saintess, but her mother too!"
A startled laugh burst out of Rudra's chest. He felt light. Lighter than he had in days.
"His Majesty the King hasn't been supporting you, has he?" Nayan asked.
"Nayan!" Rudra tried to sound serious, even as his lips kept twitching. "Talking ill of the Parthan King is punishable by death!"
"Bite me!" She smirked, reckless as ever.
Rudra shook his head, half fond, half exasperated. "Can I ask you something important?" Nayan pressed
Rudra noticed that her smirk had vanished, the serious look returning at once.
"Go ahead."
"What do you even eat there?"
Rudra rolled his eyes, "You are a menace. I don't see how Shia manages to remain married to you," he mused. "Hey!" Protested Nayan, ''It is a valid question! Even dragons and saintesses have to eat!"
It was true.
"There is nothing in Alaka," Rudra whispered in a quiet voice, "Nothing to eat at all. It's not a place where you can live, breath, eat," he looked back at Nayan, "It is a place that eats you alive."
Nayan looked a little pale.
"....I used to fly away from Alaka to another place from time to time," Rudra informed, "With Tish. To recover."
"Where...?"
"There's a place. A few hundred miles south of Alaka. I found the location from a map I discovered in the castle of Alaka," he whispered, ''The Alakans called the place Amber grove."
".....can we...?"
"No, it's still dangerous for you," Rudra said, stern. Nayan made a strangled noise at the back of her throat. She was almost as stubborn as the village kids.
She looked away, sulking. Then her eyes widen, "Ah! Konstantin!" She pointed a finger and ran past Rudra, "There you are!" Rudra didn't see the shadow but she followed Nayan anyway. For three steps at least.
Then the smell hit him. The smell of rotten meat- like it was left under the sun too long, wrapped in wet earth.
"Konstantin!"
Nayan called again, and the goat bleated — the same off-key, irritating bleat like the real thing. At first glance, it was perfect, too perfect. The same patchy brown-and-white coat, the same crooked left horn. But Rudra had already smelled the stench of rotten meat, and once he did, he couldn't stop catching the wrongness in the creature too.
The goat was looking at Rudra. It's pupils lingered half a second too long on his face- tracking him with an attention no goat has ever paid to anyone.
That was not a monster wearing a mask, it was worse. It was a thing that had never seen a goat- only heard about one.
And now. It was doing its best guess.
It was a shapeshifter.
Here. In Benevia.