Awantika's eyes fluttered open, weighed down by a groggy haze. She found herself sprawled on the ground, surrounded by unfamiliar soldiers who clearly didn't belong to her own army. The darkness of night had already descended upon the forest, making it difficult to discern faces.

The constant sound of flowing water reached her ears, indicating their proximity to a river.



As her vision gradually adjusted, she struggled to identify anyone. However, the sinister tone of a familiar voice sent a chill down her spine.

"How long do you think it'll take for your precious princess to wake up ?"

The voice belonged to none other than her arch-nemesis, Prince Danddhar of Ajmer. He appeared to be conversing with one of her loyal soldiers.

As her strength slowly returned, she began to piece together the surroundings. The location seemed oddly familiar, though her memory remained fragmented and unclear, leaving her in an unsettling state of uncertainty.

Danddhar loomed over Awantika, his favored sword swaying provocatively in the dim moonlight. His voice dripped with an unsettling mixture of arrogance and amusement as he addressed her.

Danddhar :- Hey, hey, hey, look who's finally decided to grace us with her presence.

He sneered, his lips curving into that infuriatingly cocky grin.

As he circled around her like a vulture circling its prey, the tension in the air became palpable. Awantika, still groggy from her unexpected ordeal, managed to sit up. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, and it didn't take long for her memory to come flooding back. This was the very spot where they had last clashed, where Danddhar had pushed her over the waterfall, hoping to drown her.

Danddhar's voice sliced through her thoughts as he threw a sword at her feet, breaking her concentration.

Danddhar :- We have scores to settle, remember ?

He taunted, his posture poised for a duel. Confusion swept across her face. She wondered why he would want a duel now that she was his captive. Her soldiers, bound and helpless a few feet away, knelt on the ground, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and concern.

Awantika :- Why the theatrics ?

She finally spoke, her voice laced with a hint of disbelief. Danddhar's sinister grin widened.

Danddhar :- Cat got your tongue ? Or are you too shocked to believe what's happening ? Remember what I promised you last time? I'd return, stronger. So, here I am. Won't you say anything now ?

Awantika closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. Her determination began to eclipse her confusion. With resolute poise, she picked up the offered sword and rose to her feet, albeit with a slight wobble.

Awantika :- If this is what you want, so be it.

She declared, accepting the challenge with steely resolve. Danddhar's laughter filled the night air as he stepped closer, swinging his sword with exaggerated flair. The moonlight glinted off the blades as the tension in the forest deepened, signaling the beginning of a battle that had long been in the making.

The moonlight cast eerie shadows as the duel between Awantika and Danddhar raged on. Their swords clashed in a symphony of steel, each strike resonating through the forest. Danddhar's taunting words hung in the air like a dark omen.

Danddhar :- Now, two things are bound to happen.

He declared, his voice dripping with menace.

Danddhar :- Either I win and finally level my revenge...

With a dramatic flourish, he lifted the eye patch, revealing the jagged scar that marred his right eye.

Danddhar :- Or you win and prove that I'm not worthy of you.

Awantika's eyes blazed with anger at his arrogance.

Awantika :- You were never worthy of someone like me, nor ever will be.

She shot back, her words seething with contempt. Danddhar's cocky grin remained undeterred.

Danddhar :- Oh, we're soon going to find out.

With that, he lunged at her, his sword slicing the air as it descended. Awantika swiftly parried the attack, taking a step back to maintain her footing. The duel had begun in earnest, with the forest bearing witness to their fierce clash.

Moonlight bathed the forest in an eerie glow as the duel between Awantika and Danddhar unfolded. Their swords clashed in a symphony of steel, sparks flying with each collision. The forest seemed to hold its breath as their battle raged on.

His sword whistled through the air and Awantika reacted with the agility of a seasoned warrior, parrying his attack with a resounding clash of metal. Her muscles strained under the force of his blow, but she held her ground.

Danddhar's eyes glinted with a dangerous intensity as he pressed his advantage. He launched a rapid series of strikes, each one meant to overwhelm her. But Awantika's sword danced in defense, deflecting each blow with precision and grace.

The moon cast elongated shadows that seemed to mimic the fluidity of their movements. Leaves rustled, and the river nearby seemed to whisper secrets as the two adversaries circled each other.

The hours passed unnoticed, and as dawn broke, the duel showed no sign of relenting. Danddhar, now panting and weary, found himself struggling to keep up the relentless assault.

Awantika, fueled by determination and the memory of her training, began to take the offensive. She feinted to the left and then struck from the right, her sword slicing through the air with a whoosh. Danddhar barely had time to react, but he managed to block her strike just in time.

The battle continued to ebb and flow. Danddhar's relentless attacks showcased his newfound strength, but Awantika countered with her speed and agility. The forest bore witness to their fierce clash, the very trees seeming to sway in rhythm with their movements.

As the first light of dawn began to break through the dense canopy above, Danddhar's strength waned. His breaths came in ragged gasps, and sweat glistened on his brow. He had hoped that Awantika would falter, but she remained resolute.

Seizing her moment, Awantika launched a final, furious assault. Her strikes were a blur of motion, disarming Danddhar and sending him sprawling to the ground with a well-timed kick to his right knee. He hit the forest floor with a thud, his sword clattering away.



The forest held its breath as Awantika's sword hovered perilously close to Danddhar's neck. The outcome of their battle hung in the balance, and for a tense moment, silence reigned in the tranquil woods.

Danddhar's soldiers moved to intervene, swords drawn, ready to defend their prince. But Danddhar raised his hand, a signal for them to stand down. The tension in the clearing was palpable as the adversaries faced off, the outcome of their battle hanging in the balance.

As the first rays of sunlight broke through the forest canopy, they painted a warm glow on Princess Awantika's victorious smile. With a graceful flourish, she withdrew her sword, its blade reflecting the dawn's gentle light. Danddhar, still on the forest floor, stared up at her with a mix of shock and disbelief, his pride wounded.

Instead of immediately rising to his feet, he chose to kneel before her, his head bowed in a sign of submission.

Danddhar :- I, Danddhar, son of King Alambush, accept my defeat. You are free to go.

He uttered with solemnity. Awantika couldn't hide her surprise as she watched him kneel before her, an unexpected display of honor from her arch-nemesis.

Awantika :- You're seriously letting me go? I was your prisoner; you could've done anything...

Her voice trailed off, her confusion evident. Danddhar, however, was unwavering in his decision.

Danddhar :- All I wanted was a fair fight, and that's finished. I gave you my word; you can go now.

He signaled to his soldiers to release Awantika's men. When he finally looked up to meet her eyes, she couldn't help but offer him a genuine smile.

Awantika :- I'm sorry, Prince. I realized I was so wrong in judging you. You're a true warrior, a man of your word. You really do know how to take defeat, unlike me...

But he interrupted her self-reflection.

Danddhar :- It was an honor fighting with you, Princess. Your husband will be very lucky. And don't worry about judging me..... everyone I've met judged me wrong.... not your fault.



With those words, he turned and walked away, his soldiers following in tow. Awantika watched his retreating figure, a sense of respect for her former enemy settling in her heart.

Before vanishing from sight, Danddhar turned for one last look at her.

Danddhar :- Tell your father that I apologize for the inconvenience caused. He won't have to worry about Ajmer attacking his kingdom.

With that, he climbed onto his horse and spurred it into a gallop, disappearing into the depths of the forest. Awantika's soldiers and maids surrounded her, their voices filled with praise and admiration for their valiant princess. They lifted her in the air, and she laughed in delight, the tension of the past hours finally giving way to a sense of camaraderie and relief.



A knock on the door reverberated in the quiet chamber, catching Princess Pristi's attention. She had come to see her elder brother Vikram, who was lying sick on his bed, sleeping with the effect of medicine. She didn't know how long she had sat there before she dozed off.

Pristi :- Come in.

She called to whoever had knocked on the door. It creaked open, and Sahdev stepped in. He greeted her as he walked towards the bed.

Pristi :- I hope your brother's wounds are recovering fast.

He said, eyeing the man sleeping peacefully on the bed. Pristi gestured to a nearby stool for him to sit.

Pristi :- Yes, and his pain is also easing. He looks a lot more peaceful now. Thanks for your medication.



Pristi replied. This praise was not only out of gratitude but out of genuine respect for him.

Sahdev :- I'm actually here to inform you that a blueprint of the dam is ready, and only minor supervision is needed from time to time. Rest everything looks settled.

Pristi :- It's all because of your tireless efforts, Prince. I can't thank you enough with just words. You and your family are always welcome in Anga Pradesh; this is the least I can do.

Pristi said, gratitude and warmth in her voice. She gave him a sincere nod.

Sahdev :- I'm grateful for the offer, Princess. And now that the conflict with Manipur is solved, you can shift more manpower to the construction of the dam, instead of reinforcing the boundary, which can be done later.

Pristi smiled faintly but her tongue couldn't form more words. Had her brother not been so sick and injured, she would've helped Sahdev with all the work he had to handle all by himself.

Sahdev :- And I should head back to my kingdom, seeing that my work here is complete. My brother needs me more at this time.

He said, noticing the small frown that momentarily appeared on her face. He knew she enjoyed his presence, but duty called him elsewhere, and he couldn't ignore it.

Pristi :- That sounds most appropriate at the moment, Prince. It'd be better if you were with them. I'll take it from here.

She assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder, a mixture of gratitude and longing in her touch.

Sahdev :- Whenever you need any help or advice, or just want to have a talk, do not forget to write to me. I'll look forward to your letter.

He said, his voice carrying a hint of sadness. Her chuckle eased the melancholy, and she nodded.

Pristi :- I'll definitely write to you whenever I have free time. Thank you again for all that you've done.

She replied, genuine appreciation in her eyes. Suddenly, the mood shifted as Sahdev noticed fresh blood coming out from a bandaged wound on Vikram's chest. He immediately sprang into action, applying pressure to stop the bleeding, his worry evident in his rapid movements.

Pristi called out to the guards, urgently requesting the vaidhya's presence. She hurried to get sanitized cotton, her concern deepening.

Sahdev kept checking Vikram's pulse to ensure it remained stable. The bleeding began to slow down after a few tense moments, but Vikram's body started to shake. Sahdev leaned in closer, straining to hear Vikram's faint mumblings.

Vikram :- .... I don't... want that.... why are.... you.... giving it to me.... please don't.... I don't want my.... son to... to die.... you can't.... how can you.... do this to... to me.... please.... I'm... I'm begging....

Before Sahdev could fully grasp what was being said, the vaidhya entered the chamber, followed by his assistants. Pristi rushed back with the needed supplies, her face tense with worry.

Sahdev stepped back, his gaze locked onto Vikram. Placing a reassuring hand on Pristi's shoulder, he offered a silent promise that everything would be alright. She nodded at him, but tears welled up in her eyes, reflecting her anxiety and the depth of her concern.

For a moment, Sahdev considered speaking to her about Vikram's words, but he decided to wait for a more appropriate time. Right now, the focus had to be on Vikram's well-being, and he would support Pristi in whatever way he could during this critical moment.



In the somber morning, the room was dimly lit, with the faint rays of sunlight filtering through heavy curtains. Shadows played on the walls, casting an air of melancholy. The atmosphere was heavy with the weight of illness.

Arjun's knuckles rapped gently against the wooden door, creating a muted echo that resonated in the room. He could hear the soft rustling of fabric as he waited for a response. Devika opened the door, her expression mirroring the mood of the room.

Devika :- Bhrata Arjun is here.

She called out, her voice carrying a touch of concern as she moved aside to let him in.

Inside, Yudhishthir lay on the bed, his pale face framed by disheveled hair. He seemed weakened, a handkerchief clutched in his hand, wiping a reddened nose. Yudhishthir's eyes, weary and afflicted, met Arjun's as he acknowledged his younger brother's presence.

Arjun :- Are you okay, bhrata? What happened ?

Arjun inquired, his voice filled with genuine concern. He maintained a cautious distance, wary of any potential infection. Yudhishthir cleared his throat, his voice hoarse and strained.

Devika :- He caught the viral flu that has been spreading around recently.

Devika explained, her eyes conveying her worry as she stood by the bedside.

Devika :- He couldn't sleep properly last night due to acute headache and discomfort. The vaidhya came to check him up and gave some medicines, but the fever hasn't come down.

She continued, her words heavy with concern. Arjun sighed, shaking his head as he observed his brother. Yudhishthir lay back on the bed, pulling the sheet up, covering himself.

Arjun :- Get well soon, bhrata. Take rest. I'll see you later.

Arjun muttered softly, a wish more to himself than anyone else, as he turned to leave the room. However, he was halted by Devika's words.

Devika :- I know you are thinking about the journey to Hastinapur, your brother won't be able to accompany you.

She said, her tone apologetic but understanding. Arjun managed a small, understanding smile in her direction before responding,

Arjun :- That's... that's fine. I won't request him to come with me in that state either.

His eyes briefly met Yudhishthir's, conveying his well-wishes. He turned to go, but Devika stopped him once more.

Devika :- You should go and see jiji Draupadi. She was asking for you.

She said, her voice carrying a hint of urgency. Arjun's brow furrowed, and he nodded, his thoughts momentarily troubled.

Arjun :- Okay, I'll go talk to her.

He replied before finally leaving the chamber. As he closed the door behind him, he carried with him the weight of concern for his brother and the uncertainty of the impending journey to Hastinapur.

Arjun stepped out into the corridor, the gloomy mood of the chamber still clinging to him as he walked. Suddenly, he came face to face with Hidimba, Bheem's wife. Surprise flickered in his eyes, but he quickly offered her a polite greeting, which she returned with a warm smile.

Arjun :- When did you arrive here, bhabhi, and why this surprise ?

Arjun asked, his curiosity evident in his voice.

Hidimba :- Actually, it was a surprise for me, bhrata. I received a letter from jiji Draupadi that my husband is sick and wants to see me, so I came here as quickly as I could. Now, I'm heading towards your brother's chamber. If you want, you can come with me there.

He politely declined, realizing that Draupadi had called for him.

Arjun :- Actually, she had called for me, so I'm heading towards the conference room. Did you meet her there before ?

He inquired, Hidimba nodded, her smile still warm.

Hidimba :- Yes, she's there, along with jiji Pallavi. If she has any work for me, I'll be in your brother's chamber.

With that, Hidimba bid him farewell and continued on her way. Arjun sighed and made his way towards the conference room, to find Draupadi, and see how she was faring amidst the concerns and illnesses that had gripped their household. ------------

A knock on the door echoed through the chamber, and a maid opened it to find Arjun standing there. She informed Queen Draupadi about the interruption, and upon her request, allowed him inside.

Draupadi was seated on a grand wooden chair, positioned beside a large table with several chairs around it. Arjun noted that Pallavi was also present, engrossed in reading some letters. After being left alone with Draupadi, he inquired,

Arjun :- You were asking for me ?

She nodded and gestured for him to take a seat, her expression conveying the gravity of the situation.

Draupadi :- The journey to Hastinapur will have to be canceled. There are other important issues to handle at the moment. I've sent a letter to your brothers Nakul and Sahdev, telling them to return at the earliest. But until they're here, you will have to supervise a few things.

Draupadi explained, waiting for his response. Arjun, his brow furrowed in concern, asked,

Arjun :- Okay, and what are those ?

Draupadi's gaze held a deep concern as she continued.

Draupadi :- First of all, you need to leave for Dwarika. I've sent a letter to sakha Krishna explaining the situation, and he agreed. However, he says that he can't arrange for the supervision of the medicines that need to be transported, as the viral flu has been spreading there too. He wants you to go there and ensure the medicines safely reach us, as there are many potential threats on the way.

Arjun sighed, his eyes shifting between Draupadi and Pallavi, who shared the same concerned expression.

Arjun :- Okay, when do I have to leave ?

He asked, accepting the task. Pallavi interjected,

Pallavi :- Now, if you want to, or any other time today that you feel suitable.

Arjun nodded in agreement.

Arjun :- I was all set to leave for Hastinapur. I can head to Dwarika right away since there's nothing else to arrange. Madhav would be happy to see me.

He said with a reassuring smile as he got up to leave.

Draupadi :- May your journey be safe, and please return as soon as you can. The people here need those medicines.

Draupadi implored, her voice carrying a sense of concern and gratitude for Arjun's unwavering support during challenging times.

Arjun :- Don't worry, I will.

Arjun assured her before exiting the chamber, determined to embark on his new mission to ensure the safe delivery of essential medicines, leaving behind a chamber filled with important discussions and responsibilities.



The evening sun cast a warm glow on the deserted road as Duryodhan, accompanied by Shakuni, Amrit, and Sumali, rode on their horses. The mixed mood in the air hung like a delicate balance between the pleasant and the somber. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees lining the road, carrying the scent of damp earth from an earlier unexpected shower.

As they rode, the normally bustling road now stood silent, save for the rhythmic beat of their horses' hooves and the occasional rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze. The quartet moved steadily forward, their figures silhouetted against the backdrop of the evening sky painted in hues of orange and purple.

Normally, a royal entourage would follow them for protection, but Duryodhan had insisted on solitude, vehemently arguing with his father to spare him from the cumbersome presence of soldiers.

Duryodhan's stallion led the way, his silhouette reflecting a certain weight in his demeanor. Amrit, a loyal commander, rode close, observing the changes in his prince. He couldn't help but murmur to Shakuni and Sumali,

Amrit :- He's changed a lot in recent times.

Shakuni, a shrewd strategist, studied his nephew, his gaze lingering on the young prince's contemplative figure.

Shakuni :- He'll be fine.

Shakuni assured, his eyes briefly meeting Sumali's. Amrit, however, seemed skeptical.

Amrit :- How can you be so sure ?

He questioned, raising an eyebrow. Before Shakuni could respond, Sumali interjected with a serene smile.

Sumali :- It has always happened.

The cryptic statement hung in the air, prompting both Shakuni and Amrit to turn toward her for an explanation.

Shakuni :- How did you know what I was going to say ?

He asked, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Sumali :- The secret mantra you used to tell me as a kid.

Sumali explained, her voice carrying a touch of nostalgia.

Sumali :- "It has worked every time, and it will again." I used to ask, "Until when would you keep using your trick ?" and you'd answer, "Until it stops working."

Shakuni chuckled at the memory, and Amrit, though still skeptical, couldn't help but be intrigued.

Amrit :- If this was a joke, it wasn't funny!

He declared, earning a raised eyebrow from Shakuni.

Shakuni :- You won't understand it either, so don't stress your head about it. Think of why you're here.

Shakuni advised, causing Amrit to roll his eyes in exasperation.

Duryodhan, who had been silently absorbing the banter, finally spoke up.

Duryodhan :- Okay, I can hear you, so please stop pretending as if I'm not even here. Can you talk about something else, something that doesn't involve me ?

The conversation hushed, and Duryodhan's gaze shifted to the surroundings.

The trees on either side of the road stood like sentinels, their leaves whispering secrets in the breeze. A distant river added a melodic undertone to the evening. The landscape unfolded before them, a canvas of colors painted by the setting sun.

Amrit, sensing the need to break the tension, spoke up,

Amrit :- Have you ever thought about what lies beyond these trees ? What adventures await us in the unknown ?

His words hung in the air, inviting contemplation. Duryodhan, momentarily taken aback by the shift in conversation, considered Amrit's question.

Duryodhan :- Beyond these trees, Amrit, lies the unpredictability of our journey. And as for adventures, well, we'll find out soon enough.

He replied with a half-smile, the weight on his shoulders momentarily lifted. Sumali, ever the observant one, added,

Sumali :- Adventures are but stories waiting to be written, my prince. Try to make this journey one worth remembering.

Her words carried a sense of optimism, a subtle encouragement that resonated with the quiet beauty of the evening.

Duryodhan :- This way, it'll take us eternity to reach there. Let's just speed up.

He suggested, breaking the momentary silence. With synchronized gestures, they urged their horses into a faster pace, the rhythmic gallop echoing the urgency of their journey. The fading sunlight painted the landscape in hues of orange and gold as they rode towards an uncertain destination, the unspoken tension lingering in the air.



As the curtain of night descended upon the land, the sky transformed into a celestial canvas adorned with tiny, twinkling stars. The quartet of horse riders approached their destination-a large tree perched on a rock, its roots forming the mysterious entrance to an unknown realm within the heart of the forest.

Sumali, the enigmatic presence among them, gracefully dismounted from her horse. Approaching a massive root hanging in the middle, she closed her eyes and began chanting a mantra, an ancient incantation that seemed to resonate with the very essence of the forest. As the final words left her lips, she stepped back.

A low, eerie creak echoed through the air as the massive root responded to Sumali's command, slowly moving aside. In its wake, a large door made of rocks revealed itself, opening of its own accord with a haunting grace. The scene unfolded like a page from a forgotten legend, captivating the onlookers with a sense of awe and anticipation.

Duryodhan, Shakuni, and Amrit dismounted from their horses, their eyes wide with surprise as they witnessed the mystical doorway opening before them. The air around them crackled with an electric energy, the suspense of the unknown gripping their senses.

As they stepped through the enchanted portal, the world transformed. What appeared to be a small cave from the outside unfolded into a vast, magical expanse-an otherworldly haven concealed from the prying eyes of the outside world. The walls seemed to shimmer with ethereal light, and the air carried a faint fragrance of enchantment.

The transition from the outside world to the inside was nothing short of enchanting. The cave, seemingly small from the exterior, stretched into a vast expanse illuminated by an ambient, otherworldly glow.

The walls of the houses were alive with an ever-shifting luminescence, casting playful shadows that danced in harmony with the unseen magic that permeated the air. Stalactites and stalagmites adorned with phosphorescent crystals added to the mystical ambiance, creating a subterranean dreamscape that defied the laws of nature.

As they ventured further into the Asur kingdom, the air became charged with a palpable magic. It whispered tales of ancient spells woven into the very fabric of the cavern, stories of a civilization hidden from the prying eyes of the mortal realm. The architecture, a testament to the skilled artisans of the Asur, featured grand structures carved seamlessly into the natural formations.

The group marveled at the buildings made of marbles and stones, adorned with intricate carvings that told tales of forgotten epochs. Jewels embedded in the walls shimmered like stars in the cosmic tapestry, reflecting the secrets and treasures held within this concealed haven.

Sumali, their mystical guide, led them through the winding paths, her steps echoing in the cavernous space. The kingdom unfolded like a fantastical tapestry, revealing gardens filled with bioluminescent flora that painted the realm with a myriad of colors. Fountains adorned with enchanted water sparkled in the ambient glow, casting droplets that shimmered like liquid stardust.

Their journey brought them to a grand building, its architecture transcending the boundaries of mortal craftsmanship. Intricate carvings depicted tales of ancient battles, alliances, and the forging of this hidden kingdom. The entrance was guarded by Gajasur, Sumali's colossal brother, a sentinel whose presence resonated with an aura of both strength and humility.

Gajasur lowered his massive form, placing the mace on his shoulder, an insignia of his guardianship over this magical realm. Kneeling before Sumali, his eyes gleamed with familial respect, a poignant contrast to his formidable exterior. Sumali, in turn, touched his forehead in blessing, a silent exchange of love and recognition that spoke of a deep bond between siblings.

As the events unfolded within the magical sanctuary, Sumali seamlessly transitioned into her role as both queen and sister. She introduced her towering brother, Gajasur, to Prince Duryodhan, Amrit, and Shakuni. Gajasur, with a warm yet formidable presence, welcomed them to their hidden home. The group embarked on a leisurely walk through semi-dark alleys, lanterns casting an ephemeral glow that painted the cavern walls with shadows that seemed to dance to a rhythm known only to the underground sanctuary.

Sumali :- Gaja, the team of specialist doctors will be here in a few days. I want you to escort them here safely when they arrive.

She instructed her younger brother, his nod an acknowledgment of a duty well understood.

Gajasur :- Sure, I'll be there when they arrive and bring them in.

He affirmed, his deep voice resonating through the cavernous passages like an echo of loyalty.

At the end of an alley, they reached a door pushed open by Gajasur, revealing another member of their asur family-Makrasur. This demon, resembling a colossal blend of a crocodile and a human, lay unconscious on a vast bed that occupied most of the room.

Sumali tenderly caressed Makrasur's forehead, her eyes betraying a mix of concern and affection. She gestured for the others to take seats on a long sofa near the corner, spacious enough for all four of them.

As they settled, Amrit observed Makrasur's condition.

Amrit :- Looks like he pushed himself into fire; his outer skin... looks pretty bad!

He remarked, garnering nods of agreement from Duryodhan and Shakuni.

Gajasur :- You're seeing him at the recovering state. He's been worse. The only thing keeping him alive is his will to live.

Gajasur explained, his eyes betraying a blend of determination and grief. He clenched his fist, the sheer force emphasizing his commitment to vengeance.

Gajasur :- I will have my revenge for sure. The person who did this to my brother will be killed.

He declared with a harsh edge, though he restrained himself from raising his voice in the presence of his elder sister.

Shakuni :- He will be killed, and for that to happen, we need to come and plan together.

Shakuni suggested. Gajasur narrowed his eyes, exchanging a silent glance with Sumali, who nodded subtly.

Gajasur :- And exactly what do you have in your 'plan'?

Gajasur inquired, skepticism etched on his face. Shakuni smiled, rising from his seat.

Shakuni :- We are here for that purpose only. Your sister informed us that you guard some divine weapons here in your kingdom.

Sumali confirmed the truth of Shakuni's words, her lips twitching slightly at the shrewd expression on his face.

Sumali :- That's true.

She admitted, her gaze never leaving her brother's scrutinizing eyes.

Gajasur :- So?

He questioned, prompting Shakuni to display a cunning smile.

Shakuni :- I think the time has come for them to meet their true warriors who will add to their ages of glory.

He declared, gesturing towards Amrit and Prince Duryodhan, who observed the unfolding conversation with a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

Gajasur regarded them skeptically, marveling at the audacity of these humans who believed they could wield the divine weapons that even the most powerful asur descendants found challenging.

Gajasur :- You think they can do that ?

He challenged, scrutinizing Duryodhan and Amrit before glancing at Sumali, who simply shrugged, conveying her uncertainty.

Duryodhan, feeling the weight of the situation, shook his head, sighing deeply. The absurdity of the conversation seemed to escalate with every passing moment.

Amrit :- If you have any doubts, you can join us and see for yourself.

Amrit confidently proposed, undeterred by Gajasur's mocking response.

Gajasur :- Yeah, I sure will. Can't miss a laughter episode like this one.

He mocked, his skepticism undiminished. Sumali, sensing the tension, intervened with a pragmatic suggestion.

Sumali :- Would you like to go there now, or if you want, you can take some rest ?

Duryodhan, breaking the prolonged silence, asserted.

Duryodhan :- No point in delaying that any further. Let's go and see those divine weapons.

Sumali nodded, gracefully getting up and gesturing for them to follow her. On the way, she discreetly ordered the guards to summon nurses to tend to Makrasur, the unconscious guardian of the divine weapons, ensuring that their unexpected guests would witness the intricate balance of power, resilience, and magic that defined the hidden realm of the Asurs.



In the hushed ambiance of the concealed temple, the group stood before a structure glowing with an ethereal aura-an energy field seemingly designed for protection. The air buzzed with anticipation as they marveled at the strange symbols adorning the temple walls, each glowing as if imbued with a life of its own. Amrit recognized these symbols, having encountered them during his quests for magical herbs.

Amrit :- These symbols, I've seen them before, same symbols were there in the cave where I found that magical herb...

He began, interrupted by Sumali,

Sumali :- These symbols are the language of the Asurs. They narrate the tale of the divine weapons within and the formidable capabilities of those who wielded them.

Amrit :- If this is language meant for Asurs, how can I decipher their meaning so easily ?

Sumali :- It's not something you can't master with practice.

Stepping forward, Shakuni urged them to enter the temple, suggesting that witnessing the weapons firsthand would substantiate the tales surrounding them. Sumali, aware of the potent magic that lay within, chuckled at Shakuni's remark, choosing to remain silent, anticipating her uncle's wide-eyed reaction.

As they crossed the protective energy layer surrounding the temple, the atmosphere underwent a remarkable transformation. What appeared to be cold, dark temple walls covered in damp green moss evolved into a masterpiece of intricate designs, breathtaking architecture, and paintings depicting battles between Gods and Asurs. The glowing symbols on the walls infused the place with a divine aura, making it an ethereal spectacle.

The carvings on the walls seemed to come alive as beams of bluish light cascaded through high windows, casting a celestial glow upon the divine paintings. The scenes depicted were nothing short of cosmic tales-a dance of gods and demons, entwined in battles that transcended realms. Majestic figures adorned the walls, capturing moments of triumph and tragedy, all etched with meticulous detail.

Gajasur led the way, a massive lantern in his arms casting a warm glow that illuminated the path. Soon, they found themselves in a grand hall adorned with statues of asur ancestors guarding the entrance. The walls of the hall, like pages from a cosmic chronicle, bore carvings narrating diverse tales of history.

The walls of the hall were an anthology of the cosmic saga, narrating tales of creation, destruction, and the eternal struggle between divine forces. Scenes of gods wielding celestial weapons clashed with asurs harnessing dark powers, each tableau evoking a sense of awe and reverence.

Two beams of bluish light cascaded through a high window, casting a celestial glow upon two divine weapons placed securely in the middle of the hall. One was a resplendent bow with a greenish-red aura and a golden glowing string, adorned with intricate carvings that seemed to narrate its own story. The other, a golden mace, emanated a fierce energy, with a roaring lion carved at the end of its handle. These divine artifacts were surrounded by carvings depicting the gods' benevolence and the asurs' indomitable spirit.

Both weapons radiated an unmistakable energy, asserting their divine nature. Gajasur and Sumali stood, smiling, as Amrit, Duryodhan, and Shakuni stared in a blend of surprise and awe.

Amrit, compelled by an unseen force, stepped forward, slowly extending his hand toward the divine bow.

Amrit :- So this is it.

As his fingers touched it, the aura intensified, as if welcoming his touch. With some effort, he raised the bow above his head, watching it glow with newfound energy.



Gajasur, the most astonished among them, had not expected the stranger to move the bow, let alone lift it. The vision unfolded as if the bow had found its true wielder. Amrit's hands fatigued, and he brought the bow down. Despite his efforts, he struggled and eventually gave up, muscles sore and sweating. He looked at Sumali,

Amrit :- This bow is unlike anything I've encountered before. It seems to have a will of its own.

Sumali :- The bow accepts you as it's weilder, but it looks clear that you are not used to handling bows with such power. But mastering it will require more than strength. It demands respect and understanding.

Gajasur praised Amrit for his confidence, and Duryodhan, equally impressed, gave him a heartfelt hug, offering congratulations. Shakuni, always calculating, placed a hand on Duryodhan's shoulder and gestured toward the mace. Understanding the unspoken message, Duryodhan walked confidently toward the mace, his hands joined in reverence.

Recalling his past mistake of disrespecting a divine weapon, Duryodhan first joined his hands before slowly holding the handle of the mace, and its glow intensified, bringing a triumphant smile to his face. However, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't lift it, and his muscles began to tire. Undeterred, he refused to give up.

Sumali approached, signaling him to stop.

Sumali :- The glow of the mace indicated its acceptance.

Duryodhan :- Then why cannot I lift it ?

Sumali :- The amplified glow means acceptance, but either the mace doesn't fully trust your strength or there is someone else who could be a better wielder.

Duryodhan and Shakuni turned their gaze toward Gajasur, who raised his hands,

Gajasur :- No, not me, I've tried to lift it many times but couldn't, so it cannot be me.

A sudden realization flashed in Duryodhan's mind, and he angrily crushed a rock beneath his foot.

Duryodhan :- If not me, the only one who can lift this mace is none other than Bheem!!

He muttered. Sumali, catching onto his realization, nodded in agreement.

Sumali :- It seems the mace recognizes him as a worthy challenger.

Duryodhan, with a determined glint in his eyes, turned to Sumali.

Duryodhan :- Keep the mace safe. I will return to prove myself and claim it.

He walked out, determination etched across his face, leaving the temple charged with the promise of future challenges and revelations.



In the expansive medical room of the palace, the afternoon sunlight streamed through tall windows adorned with intricate curtains. The air carried the subtle scent of autumn leaves, and a gentle breeze rustled the pages of medical charts on a polished wooden desk. The room was silent, save for the distant murmur of palace life. A pair of majestic birds perched on a tree branch just outside the window, tending to their nest. The rhythmic flapping of wings echoed faintly through the room. The birds, in synchronized elegance, fed their hungry chicks.

Pristi sat beside her elder brother, Vikram, in a solemn chair, her gaze fixed on his unconscious form. The medical room, with its subdued lighting, cast a soft glow on her worried expression. Vikram's body, covered in carefully placed bandages, wounds slowly healing under the watchful eyes of the palace physicians.



The room was hushed, save for the occasional murmur of the healers consulting nearby. Pristi clasped her hands together, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and determination. The doctors, though cautious, noted the positive signs of healing in Vikram's condition. However, they remained vigilant, unwilling to take any chances with the monarch's recovery.

Outside the window, the birds on the tree branch continued their soothing routine, a natural tableau of life and renewal. The cool autumn breeze gently swayed the curtains, creating a momentary respite from the gravity of the situation. Pristi, torn between the responsibilities of royalty and the vulnerability of familial bonds, kept a silent vigil by her brother's side, hopeful for his eventual awakening.

Lost in the depths of her prayers, Pristi remained by her brother's side, the passage of time becoming an elusive concept in the quiet room. The flickering candles cast shadows on the walls, creating a sacred ambiance that enveloped her in a cocoon of hope and devotion. The soft murmurs of her prayers filled the air, a whispered plea for her brother's recovery.

In the stillness of the medical room, the princess found solace in the act of prayer, a timeless connection between the earthly realm and something greater. Her heart, heavy with concern, sought comfort in the belief that her words could transcend the boundaries of the physical world and reach a realm where healing and protection could be granted.

As Pristi sat beside her unconscious brother, her gaze fixed on his tranquil face, her mind involuntarily slipped into the realm of a haunting flashback. The room seemed to blur as memories of the worst day of her life flooded back, a day that marked the inception of the troubles that lingered.

In the hazy recollection, she found herself transported to a moment where decisions weighed heavily on her shoulders. The echoes of that pivotal choice reverberated through her thoughts, casting shadows on the present. Doubt gnawed at her, and she questioned the paths she had chosen.

The flashback unfolded like a vivid painting: a tapestry of emotions, regrets, and the consequences of choices made. Pristi's eyes, fixed on her brother's face, betrayed the conflict within her. The room's serenity clashed with the storm of memories in her mind.

In the vivid flashback, Pristi found herself in the midst of a pivotal moment, surrounded by a group of dedicated nurses in a room filled with anticipation. Meenakshi, the wife of Vikram, lay on a bed, a portrait of strength and vulnerability as she approached the moment of giving birth.

The air in the room was charged with a mix of excitement and tension, the only sounds of Meenakshi's steady breaths. Two nurses flanked Meenakshi, holding her hands with reassuring warmth, wiping away the beads of sweat that adorned her forehead.

Pristi, sitting beside her sister-in-law, offered words of encouragement, a calming presence amid the intensity of the situation.

Pristi :- You can do it, Bhabhi. You are strong and brave. You are a queen and a mother. You are about to give birth to a beautiful baby. A baby who will be the heir of the kingdom. Just breathe and push, Bhabhi. Breathe and push.

Meenakshi nodded and followed Pristi's instructions. She breathed deeply and pushed hard, feeling the pain and the pressure in her body. Amidst the crescendo of Meenakshi's cries, the air in the room transformed with the first cries of a newborn baby, announcing his arrival into the world. The doctor, cradling the precious bundle, declared the joyous news,

Nurse :- It's a boy. A healthy boy. Congratulations, My queen. You have given birth to a prince.

A collective smile illuminated the faces of the nurses, their congratulations filling the room with warmth and celebration.

Pristi, sharing in the joy, smiled and nodded at Meenakshi, who lay exhausted but content on the bed. The flickering candles seemed to dance with added radiance, casting a soft glow on the serenity that settled over the room. The cries of the newborn resonated like a melody of hope, weaving a tapestry of new beginnings.

The nurse handed the baby to Meenakshi, who held him close to her chest. She looked at him with wonder and love, feeling his warmth and his heartbeat. She kissed his forehead and said.

Meenakshi :- My son. My love. You are the most precious gift I have ever received. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, the most wonderful thing I have ever done. I love you, my son. I love you more than anything in the world.

As the nurses continued to exchange congratulatory glances, Meenakshi, overcome by the waves of exhaustion, closed her eyes and drifted into a peaceful slumber. The room, bathed in the afterglow of this precious moment, held an aura of tranquility-a contrast to the earlier intensity of labor. She dreamed of her baby, her husband, and her future, a perfect life.

Pristi, witnessing the birth of her nephew and the relief on Meenakshi's face, felt a profound sense of connection to the unfolding journey of life within the palace walls.

Amidst the joyous celebration, a sudden cry from one of the nurses shattered the elation in the room. Pristi, her heart pounding, approached the distressed nurse and anxiously inquired,

Pristi :- What's wrong ?

The nurse, with trembling fingers, pointed at the baby's neck, where an unusual gem glowed ominously.

Pristi, her eyes widening with concern, took the baby into her arms, scrutinizing the mysterious gem. It was a bright red color, like blood. It was shaped like a pentagram, like a symbol of evil. It was pulsing like a heart, like a sign of life.

Pristi :- What is this ? What does it mean ?

She asked, her voice edged with urgency. The nurse's voice quivered as she revealed a shocking revelation,

Nurse :- This baby is a curse, a born devil.

The room, once filled with the echoes of joy, now hung heavy with a foreboding silence.

Pristi, cradling the seemingly innocent child, grappled with the weight of the nurse's words.

Pristi :- A curse ? What are you saying ?

She questioned, torn between familial love and the unsettling prophecy that loomed over her nephew.

Nurse :- The glowing gem signifies a darkness within. It's said to be a bad omen. It's a sign of doom.

The nurse explained, her eyes reflecting a mix of fear and superstition. The flickering candles cast eerie shadows as the gravity of the situation unfolded.

As the realization set in, the room, once filled with celebration, now echoed with uncertainty, leaving the royal family to confront a profound dilemma that would shape the course of their lives.

Pristi looked at the gem on his neck and felt a chill in her spine. She wondered what it was and what it meant and if the nurse was right or wrong.

Amidst the ominous revelation about the newborn, another nurse's cry pierced the air, signaling a new crisis.

Nurse :- Queen Meenakshi is quickly losing her pulse, drifting into a coma!

Panic gripped the room as the gravity of the situation escalated. In the whirlwind of distress, Pristi handed the baby to a nurse and rushed to Meenakshi's side. She sat down, clasping Meenakshi's cold palms, her voice tinged with urgency. She looked at Meenakshi, who was lying on the bed, pale and weak.

Pristi :- You have to stay awake, bhabhi. For the baby. You are a queen and a mother. You have given birth to a beautiful baby. A baby who is the heir of the kingdom. You can't die, bhabhi. You can't die. You have to live. You have to live for him. You have to live for us, for yourself. Please, please. Wake up, bhabhi. Wake up.

Pristi pleaded, her eyes reflecting a mix of fear and determination.

Meenakshi's eyes fluttered open for a fleeting moment, and she whispered weakly,

Meenakshi :- Look after the child. He is not a curse.

The words, laden with a mother's concern, hung in the air as she drifted back into a troubled sleep. With a heavy heart, Pristi continued to rub Meenakshi's palms, whispering words of encouragement, willing her to fight against the encroaching darkness.

She closed her eyes and drifted into a coma and did not wake up again.

As the nurses continued their efforts to stabilize both mother and child, Pristi, torn between the newborn's ominous prophecy and her sister-in-law's dire condition, faced the daunting task of navigating a storm that threatened to engulf the royal family in its entirety.

Pristi held the baby in her arms and felt a shock and a grief in her heart. She felt a love and a duty in her soul, a conflict and a doubt in her mind. She did not know what to do. She did not know what to say. She did not know what to think or what to feel.

She looked at the baby and saw the gem on his neck. She saw that it was still glowing and pulsing. She wondered what it was and what it meant. She heard a knock on the door and saw a maid standing outside.

Maid :- Princess, the king is here. He wants to see you and the queen and the baby.

Pristi felt a fear and a guilt in her heart, considering the choice and consequence in her mind.

In a decisive moment, Pristi, her eyes reflecting determination, quickly handed the baby to a nurse.

Pristi :- Take him through the secret passage, and don't utter a word about him until I figure out what to do.

She instructed with urgency. The nurse nodded, cradling the newborn, disappearing into the concealed path.

Turning to the remaining nurses, she issued a stern directive,

Pristi :- No one speaks a word about the baby's birth. If anyone asks, we say it was a miscarriage.

The weight of secrecy hung heavy in the air as the nurses exchanged uneasy glances. As the room fell into a hushed compliance, Pristi, torn between protecting the child and navigating the complexities of the royal court, faced a clandestine challenge that would determine the fate of her family.

With a determined nod from the nurses, Princess Pristi left the room, leaving them to their efforts to revive Queen Meenakshi from her coma. The air outside felt heavy with the weight of the secret she now carried. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Pristi made her way to her brother.

In the quiet corridors of the palace, the echoes of her footsteps mirrored the internal struggle she faced. The news of her brother's condition and the hidden truth about the newborn weighed on her shoulders, she steeled herself for the difficult conversation that lay ahead.

Vikram, his eyes filled with anticipation, bombarded Princess Pristi with a flurry of questions about the well-being of his wife and the arrival of their child. As he awaited the news, Pristi, gathering all her courage, began to answer his inquiries.

In a soft and measured tone, she explained,

Pristi :- Bhrata, bhabhi had a difficult time, and we faced complications. I'm so sorry to tell you, but she had a miscarriage.

She saw the hope drain from his eyes as she continued,

Pristi :- She's in a coma right now, and the doctors are doing everything they can. You can't see her at the moment.

Pristi, empathetic yet resolute, sought to provide comfort in the face of heart-wrenching news. She spoke softly,

Pristi :- It's a challenging time, and we need you to be strong for bhabhi and yourself. The doctors are working hard, and we'll get through this together.

Pristi, her heart heavy with the weight of the news, attempted to engage her brother in conversation, seeking a connection in their shared grief. However, Vikram, overwhelmed by the sorrowful revelation, uttered only one request:

Vikram :- Don't follow me.

As he walked towards his chamber, a palpable sense of isolation hung in the air. Pristi, watching with moist eyes, felt a deep ache for her brother's pain. She stood in silence as he locked himself in, the sound of the closing door echoing the emotional distance that had momentarily grown between them.

In the dimly lit hallway, the flickering candles cast elongated shadows, mirroring the complexity of emotions in the wake of the heartbreaking news. Pristi, torn between duty and compassion, stood alone, grappling with the challenges that had befallen her family, hoping for a glimmer of light in the midst of darkness.

Pristi, emerging from the haunting depths of the flashback, hastily wiped away her tears as a knock echoed through the room. Composing herself, she granted permission for the maid to enter. The maid bowed respectfully before delivering the message,

Maid :- Some courtiers are waiting outside and wish to speak with you, Princess.

Inwardly, Pristi sighed, momentarily setting aside the weight of her personal turmoil to face the demands of her royal duties. With a nod, she acknowledged the message and prepared to confront the challenges that awaited her in the present.

In that introspective moment, she wondered if her decisions had set in motion a chain of events that led to her brother's current state. The flickering candles mirrored the uncertainty that danced in her eyes, and the distant rustle of leaves served as a somber backdrop to her internal struggle.

As she grappled with the haunting echoes of the past, Pristi sought solace in the hope that, despite the doubts, the path she had chosen would eventually lead to a brighter outcome for her beloved brother.

Pristi stole one last glance at her brother, still lost in the realms of slumber and uncertainty, before turning away to face the pressing matters at hand. The room, with its flickering candles and shadows, held the lingering emotions of a tumultuous past.

With a silent resolve, Pristi left the room, closing the door behind her. As she stepped into the corridor, the gravity of her responsibilities pressed upon her shoulders. The door to her brother's chamber stood as a barrier between the intimate struggles within and the demands of the external world.

Gathering herself, she moved forward, leaving the echoes of the past behind and bracing herself for the challenges that awaited her with the courtiers. The flickering candles, witnesses to the silent stories within the palace walls, cast their gentle light on Princess Pristi as she navigated the intricate dance between duty and personal turmoil.



Did you like the part ?

I hope this one is a bit longer than the previous ones. I have tried to increase my speed to two parts at a time.

So, we were wrong about Danddhar since the beginning, he is a true warrior after all.

What do you think Vikram was trying to say, is there a part of his past that we still haven't known ?

What could be those potential threats Krishna has warned Arjun about ?

So what will Duryodhan do, to prove himself worthy for the divine mace.

And why could be the full potential of the Bow Amrit is going to weild.

This was the reason Vikram lost his self control and indulged himself in self detrimental act of drinking himself to death.

But do you think that is it. Or is Pristi hiding something darker which she hasn't revealed to anyone.

What do you think?

Do comment if you have any suggestions.

Will see you in the next part, untill then, take care and bye.