Chapter 4 :protection
1093 Words
Chapter 4 : Protection
The bonfire crackled low and steady, like it had decided to stay awake just to watch us.
Dinner plates were stacked near the inn wall—steel thalis with the last smears of dal and rice, oily fingerprints, one lonely piece of pickle that nobody had claimed.
The villagers had drifted back in after eating, dragging wooden stools and folding charpoys close to the fire.
Someone brought out a kettle.
Someone else brought peanuts wrapped in yesterday’s newspaper.
An uncle was already snoring softly, his head tilted back like he’d passed out mid-judgment.
And then Auntie Lata stood up suddenly, shawl sliding off one shoulder, eyes sharp as if she’d just heard something no one else had.
“You people,” she said loudly, pointing at us with the stem of her clay cup, “are sitting here like you came for a picnic.”
Aarav straightened. “We did come for a trip—”
“Picnic in a graveyard,” she snapped. “Same thing.”
Yash muttered, “Here we go.”
then she get out god knew where in the inn and returned carrying a battered tin box, red symbols peeling off its lid.
It looked old in the way things only get like old treasures, maybe had ancient gold or something previous.
She set it down by the fire and looked straight at us with accusations.
“You people,” she said, “have come to Ravenkot with empty pockets.”
Aarav frowned. “No, no, I have a wallet. Two, actually.”
“Protection i***t , protection " snapped “Not money,”
Yash stiffened. “We have jackets.”
Lata rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might detach.
“God protections. You have no god protections ”
The uncles hummed a in agreement.
Vani whispered, “Is that… bad?”
“Very,”
. “Here, even the wind keeps one.”
wow
She opened the box.
Inside were dozens of tiny cloth pouches, old coins, colored threads, bits of bone, beads, feathers, ash, and things I couldn’t identify at all.
Aarav leaned forward, fascinated.“Wow. Pocket gods.”
“Exactly,” Lata told. “Everyone needs one.”
She reached in and pulled out a small blue pouch tied with white string.
“Aarav,” she called .
He sat up straight with hand on his knees like he’d been summoned by a teacher.
“Yes, ma’am?”
She shoved the pouch into his hand. “This is for your mouth.”
He blinked. “What....My mouth?”
“You talk too much,” she casually told. “This god will slow your tongue when it tries to get you killed.”
“That seems… targeted.”
“Spirits like loud men,” one uncle muttered.
“They find them first.”
Aarav stared at the pouch, then nodded seriously.
“Okay. So this is basically spiritual duct tape.”
“Keep it in your pocket,” Lata said. “Don’t open it.”
“What happens if I do?”
“Then it opens you.”
He stopped asking questions.
Next, she picked up a thin red thread and a tiny bell no bigger than a fingernail.“Vani.”
Vani scooted forward nervously.
Lata tied the thread around her wrist and tucked the bell into it.
“This is for your curiosity,” she said. “You like to look.”
Vani smiled weakly. “It’s my job.”
“Some things don’t like being seen,” Lata replied. “This will ring when you are not supposed to watch.”
“Like a horror-movie motion sensor?”
“Like a god tapping your hand.”
Vani swallowed. “Comforting.”
Lata turned to Yash.
She gave him a small black stone, smooth as river glass.
“For thinking too much,” she said.
Yash frowned. “Isn’t thinking good?”
“Here,” Lata replied, “thinking is an invitation.”
She pressed the stone into his palm. “When your head feels crowded, hold this.”
“With what?”
“With what is not yours.”
Yash closed his fingers around it.
Then she looked at me.
Firelight reflected in her eyes. For a second, her humor drained away.
She reached into the box and drew out a pale muslin pouch dusted with ash.
“This,” she said quietly, “is not a god.”
“Oh...So what do I get? Premium edition?”
“This is proof,” she said. “That you are claimed by the living.”
Iaughed came how she said , because what else do you do when a Himalayan auntie tells you something that sounds like a death omen.
“Love that. ‘Claimed by the living.’ Very motivational.”
She took my wrist and pressed the pouch into my palm.“When the mountain looks at you,” she said softly, “show it this.”
a suddenly shiver slid down my spine.
Aarav cleared his throat to get attention. “Okay, so… to summarize… we have pocket gods, anti-spirit mouth control, a ghost alarm, a thinking rock, and Vihaan has… spooky ash.”
“Correct,” Lata said. “Free spiritual insurance.”
“Do we get a receipt?”
“If you survive, you won’t need one.”
The uncle predicted like he already saw our future.
The fire popped, throwing sparks into the sky.
Vani tucked her bell into her sleeve.
“So… do these things actually work?”
Auntie Lata sat down again, folding her shawl around herself.
“Not always,” she said. “But they make you less interesting.”
Yash blinked. “Less interesting to…?”
“To what is listening.”
The wind passed through the courtyard.
Somewhere, far beyond the inn, something deep and old stirred.
I slipped the ash pouch into my pocket.
Auntie Lata looked all of us in a worried . "remember if there's unnaturally and evil spirits harms us then there's god who always unknowingly protect us . some people come back but... something change in them and then they never for trekking again"Auntie Lata looked at all of us, worry lining her face.
“Remember—if unnatural and evil spirits harm us, there are gods who protect us unknowingly. Some people come back…”
She paused.
“…but something changes in them. And then they never come trekking again.”
And for the first time since we arrived in Ravenkot…
- Writer
