Chandra wanted to ask more, but another mural, adjacent to it, caught her eye. For some reason, this one pulled at her, as if it was somehow familiar. Like a story told during childhood, forgotten but with faint echoes of memory. Makhadeva strode toward her as she stood gazing up at it, mouth slightly open.
A woman drawn in black ink was under a gigantic wheel occupying most of the sky, a hand raised toward it. In the distance was another dark figure of a man holding a small child. Different kinds of beasts and men were seen trying to escape from the area.
“This one details the time when one of our princesses fell for the sweet words of a knave, who was really a spy deva in disguise,” said Makhadeva. Chandra couldn’t be sure but the yaksha seemed sad. “The deva’s actions led to the slaughter of the royal family. Everyone except the princess was slain.”
“How horrible. Poor princess,” said Chandra.
“Yes, indeed, but in her grief, she committed an even greater crime by activating that wheel you see, a weapon that destroyed quite a bit of the forest and its inhabitants. Even now, the grass there grows dry and brittle.”
“What happened next?” she asked, fascinated by the story.
“They both died. The princess and the deva who loved her. The goddess had cursed them to suffer through their next lives. Other danava kings occupied this once great city, rebuilt as much as they could, and ruled for a long time until they, too, felt the passage of time and the changing of foundations and moved on to other dimensions.”
Chandra viewed the mural with interest, trying to make out the details of these mythical beings.
“This way, Princess,” he called, moving away.
“You mentioned other dimensions?” asked Chandra, walking slightly faster to catch up with him.
“Hmm? Yes. There are seven other dimensions. This earthbound one is the only one where humans exist. We ruled this plane for a while, but we have moved on.”
“Why?” asked Chandra.
“Because there were too many humans questioning us about things that they didn’t need to know.”
Chandra fell silent after that, wondering if she had overstepped with her questions.
They seemed to be in some sort of pathway now; although, it was difficult to make out the details. A gigantic sculpture of an elephant draped with moss stood at the entrance, its trunk raised in greeting. Chandra pondered the size and wondered if even the animals were bigger in those times.
A stone path wove between the buildings, broken by an odd tree that was split open. Rotten wood oozed a damp smell. An army of ants made the hollow into a temporary home, building a brick-colored anthill. A flash of orange and blue caught her eye, and she saw a hornbill. It alighted on a branch and surveyed her with bright interest. Chandra was unnerved to find it had human eyes.
She averted her eyes and found her gaze snagged by a pool of still water. Its surface was carpeted by a mat of dense green salvinia. She crouched at the edge and scooped up some water. It was clear and refreshingly cold. She splashed some on her face.
An otter popped its head from the green depths of the pool, its fur wet and flat. “Hello?” she said cautiously, hoping she hadn’t disturbed it.
“Hello yourself, Princess,” said the otter as it dived back again.
Chandra was so stunned; she almost lost her balance and fell into the pool.
“They talk?” She looked at Makhadeva for clarification.
“But of course. They’re not animals. They can talk.”
“What are they, then?”
“Demons.”
“What?” Chandra cringed.
“That is what I believe you humans call us. Demons,asuras, danavas, orrakshasas. We are known by many names.” Makhadeva paused as if imparting something of significance. “It’s good that you are under a vow to not eat meat, Princess.”
Chandra understood what he was saying with a sick sense of dread. “But…but…that would mean, the animals Veer has been devouring are…”
“Yes, they are all demons in exile, Princess. When Veer tasted the flesh of one, the curse came into effect. Now do you understand why I had to curse him? They are not ‘just’ animals.”
Chandra didn’t know whether to be flabbergasted or take it in her stride. She had gone from believing the devas and danavas were just fables told to children, to realizing they must have existed at some point in the distant past, only to understand now that these legends still existed and walked among them.
“What happened? What made you people…er…?”
