The forest of Tilprasth stretched endlessly before them, its towering trees casting long shadows in the golden light of dusk. Karn and Ghandvega sat by a small campfire, their forms weary yet resolute. The crackling flames illuminated Karn’s armor, now bearing the scars of countless battles, and Ghandvega’s sharp features, his eyes ever watchful.

Their journey had been relentless. From one forest to another, they had pursued Makrasur’s allies with unyielding determination. Ghandvega, with his unmatched tracking skills, led the way, identifying hideouts and asur gatherings before they could consolidate their power. Karn, with the strength of a lion and the precision of a master warrior, dispatched them one by one, ensuring that Makrasur’s plans unraveled with each passing day.

Time had flown as they moved from battle to battle, their mission consuming every moment. Now, as the period of Karn’s exile neared its end, a sense of urgency lingered in the air.

Ghandvega :- We are close. The last of Makrasur’s targets lies nearby, hidden deep in these woods. If we strike soon, his plan will be undone.

He said, his voice steady but laced with anticipation. Karn nodded, his gaze fixed on the fire.

Karn :- Then we will finish this. Before the dawn of my new chapter of life.

He said, his voice calm but resolute.



Makrasur sat slouched on a large stone chair, his chin resting on his palm, his crimson eyes glinting with frustration. The dimly lit chamber, carved deep within a mountain, was adorned with glowing runes and the faint scent of burning incense. A heavy silence hung in the air as he stared at the flickering shadows on the wall, lost in thought.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor, and moments later, Gajasur entered the chamber. Taller and broader than his brother, Gajasur’s presence filled the room with a quiet menace. His sharp tusks gleamed as he approached, noting the furrowed brow on Makrasur’s face.

Gajasur :- Brother, what troubles you?

He began, his voice a deep rumble. Makrasur’s thoughts shattered at the question. He straightened, his expression dark.

Makrasur :- The asurs. I sent soldiers to gather them for the ritual, but they are either missing or turning up dead. It’s as if someone is hunting them down.

He said bitterly. Gajasur’s eyes narrowed.

Gajasur :- Do you suspect the Gods?

Makrasur :- I do, but they cannot intervene yet. Not until the asurs are gathered and the portal is opened.

He said, his voice sharp. Gajasur nodded, his tusks glinting in the dim light.

Gajasur :- Then it cannot be them.

Makrasur let out a long hum, tapping his clawed fingers on the armrest of his chair.

Makrasur :- And the Brahmins? Have they been gathered?

Gajasur :- They have, the numbers seem sufficient.

Makrasur’s lips curled into a slow, sinister smile.

Makrasur :- Good. Then we wait. The right time will come, and when it does, no one will stand in our way.

The brothers shared a glance of grim determination, their dark ambition unwavering.



Karn sat cross-legged under the shade of a sprawling peepal tree, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. The gentle rustle of leaves above provided a soothing melody, but it did little to ease the tension that hung in the air. Before him, Ghandvega paced back and forth, his brows furrowed in frustration.

Ghandvega :- I’ve searched every corner of this forest. If Mrighasur is truly hiding here, he’s more cunning than I anticipated. I can’t track him. Every lead turns cold!

He said, his tone sharp with agitation. Karn watched his companion with quiet patience, his voice calm as he spoke.

Karn :- Ghandvega, you’ve been pushing yourself relentlessly. Take a moment to rest. Even the sharpest mind needs a reprieve.

Ghandvega stopped pacing and turned to Karn, shaking his head.

Ghandvega :- Rest is not a luxury I require. Lord Indra blessed me with a boon—my mind will never tire, no matter how long I use it.

Karn smiled faintly, about to reply, when the distant sound of horses and the rhythmic clatter of wheels reached their ears. Both men froze, their gazes meeting in silent understanding. The sound grew louder, accompanied by the metallic jingle of armor and the steady march of soldiers.

A small contingent appeared from the forest’s edge, their polished weapons glinting in the sunlight. At the center of the formation was a grand chariot, flanked by warriors. The chariot rolled to a stop, and from it descended a regal man, his crown glittering atop his head. Beside him stepped a graceful woman, holding the hand of a wide-eyed boy no older than two.

Karn rose to his feet, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword as he observed the newcomers. The man approached, his expression a mixture of respect and urgency.

"Are you Karn, the king of Indraprasth and foremost of Maharathis?"

The man asked, his voice clear and commanding. Karn inclined his head.

Karn :- I am Karn And who might you be, noble one?

He inquired. The man placed his hand over his chest in a gesture of greeting.

"I am Vikramaditya, king of the Asmaka Kingdom. This is my wife, Queen Madhavi, and our son, Prince Advik."

Karn’s gaze softened as he looked at the family. He offered a small bow.

Karn :- What brings the royal family of Asmaka to this forest in search of me?

Vikramaditya exchanged a glance with his wife before continuing.

Vikramaditya :- A sage advised us to seek you out. He spoke of your valor and unmatched skill in battle and revealed that you were residing in this forest. We have come to humbly request your aid.

Karn’s brows furrowed slightly.

Karn :- What troubles you, Maharaj?

Vikramaditya’s voice lowered, tinged with worry.

Vikramaditya :- Our kingdom shares a border with Tilprasth, and we have been plagued by an asur named Mrighasur. He has terrorized our people—raiding villages, abducting innocents, and spreading fear. My soldiers are no match for his power. I beseech you, mighty Karn, to rid us of this menace. If you help us, you will have our eternal gratitude and lifelong support.

Karn listened intently, his face unreadable as he weighed the king’s words. Finally, he nodded.

Karn :- Your plea is just, and I will not turn away from those in need. Return to your kingdom with the assurance that Mrighasur will trouble you no more.

Relief washed over Vikramaditya’s face, and he bowed deeply.

Vikramaditya :- Thank you, O great one. You have lifted a great burden from my heart.

Queen Madhavi stepped forward, her eyes brimming with gratitude.

Madhavi :- May the blessings of the Gods be upon you, Maharathi Karn.

She said softly. Karn inclined his head once more.

Karn :- Go back in peace. Prepare your people to live without fear, for the shadow of the asur will soon be gone.

As the royal family and their contingent departed, Karn turned to Ghandvega, who stood with his arms crossed and an amused glint in his eye.

Ghandvega :- Well, it seems the sage has led us directly to our prey.

He said, a smirk tugging at his lips. Karn chuckled, picking up his bow and quiver.

Karn :- The hunt grows more interesting, doesn’t it?

He replied. Without another word, the two men set off into the forest, their steps purposeful as they prepared to confront the asur who had eluded them for so long. Behind them, the campfire’s embers smoldered quietly.



The night sky stretched over Hastinapur, a tapestry of stars casting a faint glow over the royal palace. The moonlight bathed the balcony of a secluded chamber, where Sumali stood alone, her form cloaked in the shadows. Her eyes were closed, lips moving in a near-silent chant as her hands traced intricate patterns in the air. A faint, otherworldly glow surrounded her as she finished her spell, a signal sent through the ether.

Moments later, the sound of great wings flapping broke the stillness. A massive bird, dark as the night itself, descended silently onto the balcony. Its rider, Makrasur, leapt off with a grace that belied his imposing frame. He approached Sumali and bowed low, touching her feet in respect.

Makrasur :- Bless me, jiji.

He said, his voice reverent. Sumali opened her eyes, a warm smile curving her lips as she placed her hand on his head.

Sumali :- May your strength never waver.

She said, her tone firm and commanding. Makrasur straightened, his crimson eyes gleaming.

Makrasur :- You summoned me, jiji. What is your command?

Sumali turned her gaze toward the city sprawled beneath the palace, her expression calculating.

Sumali :- Kakashree Shakuni has shared his concern. He believes that Duryodhan cannot truly move on while news of Princess Bhanumati of Kaling continues to reach him. Her existence keeps him tied to his past.

She began, her voice steady. Makrasur’s lips twisted into a sneer.

Makrasur :- And what would you have me do about this, sister?

Sumali’s eyes narrowed, her gaze sharp as a blade.

Sumali :- I want you to abduct her. Take her from her palace without leaving a trace. No one must know who is behind this.

Makrasur nodded, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Makrasur :- Consider it done, jiji. And... when do you plan on returning to our palace?

Sumali’s expression darkened as she turned to face him fully, her narrowed eyes boring into his.

Sumali :- Why do you ask, Makru?

She said, her voice icy. Makrasur stammered, taken aback by her sudden scrutiny.

Makrasur :- I... I only meant to ensure your safety, jiji. I am concerned for you, that is all.

He said hastily. Sumali studied him for a long moment before speaking.

Sumali :- Focus on the task at hand. Keep Bhanumati alive until I give you further instructions. Is that clear?

Makrasur nodded quickly, bowing once more.

Makrasur :- As you command, sister.

With that, he hopped onto the back of his bird, and with a powerful beat of its wings, they disappeared into the night.

------------

In the royal palace of Kaling, the atmosphere was calm and serene. Bhanumati sat by her children’s bed, softly humming a lullaby as she stroked their hair. The young ones drifted into peaceful slumber, their breaths slow and rhythmic. She lingered for a moment, watching them with a tender smile before rising and moving to her dressing table.

Sitting before the ornate mirror, Bhanumati began to remove her jewelry, piece by piece. The soft clink of bangles broke the silence of the chamber. As she reached for her earrings, a flicker of movement caught her eye in the mirror’s reflection.

Her heart stopped as she saw the figure of a towering demon standing behind her—his eyes glowing, his presence menacing.

Before she could react, Makrasur moved with super speed, clamping a cloth over her face. The scent of a potent substance overwhelmed her senses, and she struggled, her movements frantic but futile against his strength.

Her vision blurred, and her limbs grew heavy as consciousness slipped away. Makrasur caught her limp form, his grin triumphant. Without a sound, he carried her to the balcony, where his great bird awaited.

With Bhanumati draped over his shoulder, Makrasur climbed onto the bird and took flight, disappearing into the darkness. The princess of Kaling was gone, leaving behind an empty chamber and the faint rustle of curtains swaying in the night breeze.



The gentle rustle of parchment accompanied Vrushali’s soft smile as she finished reading the letter in her hands. The words, written with elegant strokes, were filled with a subtle charm that warmed her heart. She leaned back in her chair, stretching after the long read, and rose to her feet. Her silk gown flowed gracefully as she walked toward the large window of her chamber.

Tilprasth stretched out before her, a picturesque kingdom of rolling hills, vibrant gardens, and serene streams. She sighed, letting the beauty calm her mind, when movement in the palace garden below caught her attention.

Her sharp eyes narrowed as she spotted her younger sister, Mitravinda, sneaking through the hedges, her delicate form moving swiftly yet cautiously. Vrushali’s curiosity was piqued. What could Mitravinda be up to? With measured steps, she exited her chamber and made her way to the garden.

As she approached, a soft melody reached her ears—a sound unlike any she had heard before. The enchanting tune of a flute filled the air, weaving a sense of peace and joy around her. Drawn by the music, she moved deeper into the garden, her curiosity growing with every step. When Vrushali finally reached the source of the sound, she froze in astonishment.

Mitravinda was sitting on a swing draped in jasmine garlands, her head resting on the shoulder of a tall, handsome man with a radiant presence. His complexion was dusky, his features sharp and noble, and on his crown rested a peacock feather. The golden flute in his hands seemed to glow as he played, the melody pausing as he noticed Vrushali’s arrival.

Mitravinda’s eyes widened in surprise, and she sat upright, her cheeks flushing.

Mitravinda :- Vrushali... What are you doing here?

She said nervously, her voice barely above a whisper. Vrushali’s gaze flicked between her sister and the mysterious man.

Vrushali :- I should ask the same of you. And who might this be?

She said coolly, crossing her arms.

The man stood with a fluid grace, his movements almost otherworldly. His warm smile and calm demeanor seemed to defuse any tension.

Krishna :- I am Vasudev Krishna.

He said, bowing slightly. Vrushali’s eyes narrowed.

Vrushali :- Krishna..... The Krishna my father despises? The one my father’s friend Jarasandh has sworn to destroy?

She repeated, her tone measured. Krishna chuckled softly, his gaze steady and unbothered.

Krishna :- I am Krishna to some, Vasudev to others, and Govind to those who love me. I bear no enmity toward anyone, but I have learned that others often carry enmity toward me.

He said with a smile. Vrushali was not easily disarmed.

Vrushali :- And how, Krishna, did you manage to enter the palace of Tilprasth unnoticed?

Krishna :- Nothing can stop me from reaching the ones I care for.

He replied, his voice light but unwavering. Mitravinda stepped forward, her voice pleading.

Mitravinda :- Sister, please. I love Krishna, and he loves me. Please do not tell Pitashree about this. You know what he would do if he found out.

Vrushali’s stern expression softened slightly at her sister’s earnestness. She regarded the two for a long moment before speaking.

Vrushali :- I won’t tell Pitashree, but only on one condition.

She said finally. Krishna tilted his head, intrigued.

Krishna :- And what might that be, Princess?

Vrushali held up the letter she had been reading earlier.

Vrushali :- You must help me with this.

Krishna took the letter, studying it curiously.

Krishna :- What is it you wish to know?

Vrushali :- Do you recognize the handwriting?

She asked, her eyes alight with curiosity. Krishna chuckled, handing the letter back.

Krishna :- Recognizing handwriting is no small task, Princess. It is like searching for a needle in the sea.

Vrushali narrowed her eyes.

Vrushali :- I thought you're the one who knows everything.

Krishna smiled, his lips pressing as he contained a chuckle.

Krishna :- Depends, whether the information you seek is within the range of your own understanding.

Vrushali :- But you do recognize it, don't you?

She pressed. Krishna observed the writing again, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. Then, with a teasing grin, he said,

Krishna :- It looks familiar indeed. Why, it almost looks like my own!

Mitravinda rolled her eyes, slapping his arm lightly.

Mitravinda :- Kanha, don’t jest.

She said. Smiling, Krishna grew serious.

Krishna :- This handwriting belongs to someone I know well. It is my cousin, my closest friend—Karn, the king of Indraprasth.

Vrushali’s eyes widened, her breath catching.

Vrushali :- Karn?

She repeated, making Krishna nod.

Krishna :- Yes. He is currently living in exile, serving a seven-year exile. He presently resides somewhere in the forests of Tilprasth.

For a moment, Vrushali stood frozen, processing the information. Then, without another word, she turned and ran toward her chambers, her heart pounding with excitement. Mitravinda watched her go, her confusion evident.

Mitravinda :- Kanha, what was that about?

She asked. Krishna smiled knowingly, his flute resting against his lips.

Krishna :- A reunion long overdue, Mitravinda.

He said enigmatically, resuming his enchanting melody.



The morning sun bathed the royal palace of Tilprasth in warm light, casting intricate shadows on its polished marble floors. Vrushali walked with purposeful grace toward the audience hall, her heart racing in anticipation of the conversation she was about to have.

Seated on a grand throne, her father,Maharaj Kaushik, exuded authority. His sharp features were accentuated by his heavy crown, and his piercing eyes were a reminder of his no-nonsense demeanor. Courtiers and attendants hovered around him, but the room grew still as Vrushali entered, her soft footsteps echoing in the vast chamber. She stopped a respectful distance from the throne and bowed.

Vrushali :- Pitashree, I seek your permission to visit the temple today. I wish to distribute food and clothing to the needy.

She began, her voice steady. Kaushik looked up from the document he was reading, his expression hardening.

Kaushik :- No, I do not have time for your whims today. Leave.

He said curtly. Vrushali’s heart sank, but she stood her ground.

Vrushali :- Pitashree, it is a small request. The people will benefit from this, and it is a matter of dharm.

She said, her tone firm but respectful. Kaushik’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Vrushali thought he would dismiss her outright. But then his expression shifted, his gaze scrutinizing her.

Kaushik :- I have been receiving news. News of Krishna being seen near Tilprasth.

He said slowly, his voice low but heavy with suspicion. Vrushali’s breath caught, and she quickly looked down, hoping to mask her reaction. Her father leaned forward, his piercing gaze fixed on her.

Kaushik :- You wouldn’t know anything about this, would you?

Vrushali :- No, Pitashree.

She replied, her voice calm but her heart racing. Kaushik studied her for a long moment before leaning back in his throne.

Kaushik :- You may go to the temple, but on one condition—you must return before sunset. Is that clear?

Vrushali nodded quickly, a smile spreading across her face.

Vrushali :- Yes, Pitashree. Thank you.

She bowed once more before leaving the hall, her heart soaring with relief and excitement.

------------

The temple grounds buzzed with activity as Vrushali oversaw the distribution of food and clothing. She moved gracefully among the people, offering kind words and blessings, but her mind was elsewhere. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, she excused herself from the group of soldiers and guards who had accompanied her.

Vrushali :- I would like to take a walk along the river. I’ll be back shortly.

She said, her tone casual. The guards exchanged hesitant glances, reluctant to let the princess wander alone. But her confident demeanor left them no room to argue.

"Very well, Princess, but please, don’t go far."

One of them said. Vrushali nodded and walked away, her steps quickening the moment she was out of sight. She ventured deeper into the forest that bordered the temple, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign, any clue that could lead her to him.

The sound of rushing water soon reached her ears, and she followed it to a serene riverbank. Her breath caught as her eyes fell on a small hut nestled near the water. Just beyond it, under the shade of a large banyan tree, sat a man in deep meditation.

He was dressed simply, his powerful frame radiating an aura of tranquility and strength. His face, though calm and serene, bore the marks of a warrior—chiseled features, a strong jaw, and a complexion kissed by the sun.

Vrushali’s heart pounded as she approached him, her steps faltering slightly as her courage wavered. As if sensing her presence, the man slowly opened his eyes, their golden-brown depths meeting hers with a quiet intensity.

"Who are you?"

He asked, his voice calm but commanding. Vrushali gathered her composure, bowing slightly.

Vrushali :- I am Vrushali, princess of Tilprasth. And who might you be, noble one?

She said. Her voice softened as she added. The man stood, his towering frame exuding quiet power.

"I am Karn. The eldest son of Maharaj Pandu and Maharani Kunti of Hastinapur"

Vrushali’s breath caught. She had heard tales of Karn—the warrior, the king of Indraprasth, the man whose strength and nobility were unmatched. But standing before him now, she saw not just the warrior but the man, radiating a humility and warmth that captivated her. For a moment, they stood in silence, the sounds of the forest and river filling the space between them. Then Vrushali’s lips curved into a soft smile.

Vrushali :- Karn. I did not expect to find you here. I believe... I am the one you have been exchanging letters with.

She said, her voice tinged with wonder. Karn’s eyes widened in surprise, his composure breaking for a brief moment.

Karn :- You?

He asked, his voice filled with disbelief. Vrushali nodded, her smile deepening.

Vrushali :- Yes. Though we did not know each other’s names, it seems fate has brought us together at last.

Karn’s expression softened as the realization sank in. The serene princess before him, whose strength and grace mirrored the words in those letters, was the one he had been unknowingly connected to all along.

As the sun began its descent, casting a golden glow over the river and forest, the two stood together, their gazes fixed on each other, a soft breeze caressed their skin, as if to fill the gap between them.



Did you like the chapter ?

Not a long one but this is where Karn's role will come to the center again as the story would follow him.

So what do you think would be Maharaj Kaushik's reaction when he sees Krishna. And how will Krishna and Karn meet again. Who will rescue Bhanumati?

Why is Sumali doing this?

So many questions.

Do comment if you have any suggestions.

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