The next morning, the kingdom of Junagarh was decorated exquisitely. Today was the coronation of Prince Vikramaditya. An atmosphere of celebration was everywhere; the sky and air resonated with the joyful cheers of the subjects and the sound of drums. Aditya's father, the elderly King, placed the tilak with his own hands and seated Aditya on the throne. When the heavy crown, studded with diamonds and jewels, was placed on Aditya's head, the entire royal court shook with the chant—"Victory to Maharaja Vikramaditya!" Standing beside him, Arohi looked at her husband with proud eyes. She felt that all the battles were over, and now there would only be days of happiness.
But the moment Aditya sat on that ancient throne, a strange thing happened. As soon as he placed his hands on the armrests of the throne, Aditya felt an icy chill pierce through his chest. A magical yet bone-chilling sound of a flute drifted near his ears. Aditya shuddered in pain, but he composed himself to maintain his royal dignity.
Late at night, when the festivities ended, Arohi saw that Aditya's eyes had turned abnormally red. She fearfully asked the Queen Mother (Aditya's mother), "Mother, why is this happening to Aditya? Why is he clutching his ears? Is that Dracula's poison awakening in him again?"
The Queen Mother then broke down in tears. She took Arohi to an extremely secret chamber of the palace and showed her an old oil painting. There stood an exquisitely beautiful yet mysterious woman. The Queen Mother whispered, "Arohi, before Aditya's birth, the Maharaja had fallen in love with a magical nymph (Apsara). That woman was a sorceress from Mayanagari. When the Maharaja abandoned her to marry me, that woman cast a terrible curse—the day the Maharaja's first child sits on the throne, the sound of an accursed flute will begin to drive him mad. By sitting on that throne today, Aditya has unknowingly awakened that sleeping curse!"
Arohi turned toward the Queen Mother and asked in a piercing voice, "Mother, you knew everything! The story of the curse from Aditya's father's past was not unknown to you. Then why did you allow this coronation to happen? Why did you let Aditya sit on that cursed throne?"
Breaking down in tears, the Queen Mother grabbed Arohi's hands. "Arohi, do not misunderstand me, child! I thought that since Aditya grew up for twenty years outside the palace in a common farmer's house, the link to that royal curse might have been severed from his blood. I thought he had returned as 'Aditya,' not as 'Vikramaditya.' Moreover, the rule of the dynasty is—the throne cannot be kept vacant. I had hoped that his simplicity and your love would perhaps defeat that ancient black magic. But I was wrong, child... that Apsara's curse recognizes blood, not names!"
The Queen Mother added further, "I wanted to tell him everything today, but before that, the sound of that magical flute consumed him. The throne of Junagarh is actually like a magnet, which once it pulls in that curse, it does not let go."
Arohi shuddered. She realized that Aditya becoming a Dracula was an external poison, but this curse lay hidden deep within his blood through generations. Just then, the sound of the flute became louder from that abandoned tower on the north side of the palace. Instead of human sounds, a fierce animalistic groaning began to come out of Aditya's mouth. He threw away his new golden crown and began to tear at his hair like a madman.
The Queen Mother said, "Arohi, that Apsara was imprisoned inside a magical enchanted lamp right beneath the Junagarh palace. She wants to be free today. If the sound of that flute isn't stopped before this night ends, Aditya will lose his senses forever and turn into a bloodthirsty monster!"
Arohi gripped her sword tightly. Her pupils were burning like fire. She said in a firm voice, "Mother, today I will face that magical Apsara. I will not let my Aditya suffer the punishment for his father's mistake. The magic of Mayanagari cannot be greater than my love."
Exactly at that time, a Kalbaishakhi (Nor'wester) storm began. The chandeliers of the palace started to sway. With a torch in one hand and a sword in the other, Arohi stepped toward that dark underground tunnel from where the sound of that accursed flute was coming. As Arohi descended the stairs of that dark tunnel, at every step it felt as if the light from the torches on the walls was mocking her. The air inside the tunnel was heavy and had a strange fragrance—just like royal perfume, but mixed with the smell of a rotting swamp. Suddenly, reaching the end of the stairs, Arohi saw not one, but three separate massive stone doors. Strange ancient symbols were carved on each door. From the middle, the sound of that accursed flute was becoming more and more intense. Arohi realized that stepping through the wrong door would mean certain death.
Looking at the first door, Arohi saw the interior submerged in pitch-black darkness. Only hundreds of red eyes were glowing in the midst of that darkness. There was no sound, just the steady gaze of those red eyes. Arohi realized this was the room of restless souls, where once entered, one never sees the light again. She shuddered and moved away.
Next came the middle door. An unbearable heat was emanating from that door. Looking inside, she saw fire blazing fiercely. It felt as if the mouth of a volcano had been opened. Arohi realized that crossing this path of fire was impossible for any human.
The third and final door. Opening this door, Arohi saw miles and miles of a vast, desolate desert. Scorching waves of heat were coming out earlier, but now since the sun had set and evening had fallen, the hot sand of the desert had gradually become cool. Arohi used her intelligence. She knew that the desert sand is as cold at night as it is hot during the day.
Arohi thought, "In this magical tunnel, time is moving very fast. The Apsara must have thought I wouldn't take this path out of fear of the heat. But this path of cool sand will lead me to my destination."
She mustered the courage and stepped onto the desert sand. She felt a comfortable sensation on her feet from the touch of the cool sand. She began to move forward quickly, crossing the sand dunes. As she advanced, the illusion of the desert faded, and a massive crystal hall appeared in front of her. In the middle of that hall was kept that magical lamp with the purple flame.
As soon as Arohi reached the lamp, the ethereal soul of the Apsara roared, "How did you cross my death trap? No human female has been able to solve the mystery of this desert until today!"
Raising her sword, Arohi smiled. "Where there is love, even intelligence does not fail. The sand of your curse has turned cold now, Apsara! Now is the time for you to depart."