The Pandavas had settled into Varanāvata for over ten days. Though Purochana's hospitality seemed unending, the underlying tension was undeniable. Among them, Niyati's silence hung like a dense fog, making the brothers increasingly uneasy. Yet, their faith in her remained steadfast.

Sensing the weight of her quietude, Yudhishthira approached her with the respect she always commanded. "Niyati," he began softly, "you have not spoken a word since we arrived in Varanāvata. Even on the journey here, your silence was unbroken. Is there something troubling you?"

Niyati took a deep breath, lowering her gaze momentarily before meeting his eyes, "I'm just tired, Brata Yudhishthira. Nothing more."

Sahadeva, ever the seeker of clarity, leaned forward, "Tired so much that you don't want to speak?" he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

Niyati looked at each of them, her gaze steady yet tinged with melancholy, "You rely on me too much. That's not how it should be. I'm here to guide you, not to decide for you. Life's choices must be your own. That is Dharma.

If you lose the ability to question and decide for yourselves, you stray from that path. You can ask me if I'm your friend, not blindly accept what I say. Not just me—sometimes even your Mata and your Brata can be wrong. When you sense something amiss, pause. Question. Understand. Then act—but not rashly.

Consider this moment a lesson. Things are moving fast. You are all born for something great, but greatness often comes with sacrifice. And sacrifice is no simple victory. The cost can leave wounds that never truly heal, no matter how noble the cause."

Her voice faltered slightly, her vulnerability apparent. "I'm feeling that pain now. Dharma is being twisted and reshaped by selfish interpretations. Its essence—compassion and mercy—is being forgotten. I remain silent because something is about to happen. And though I can stop it, I won't. Sometimes, things must unfold as they are meant to, even if the escape comes with a price."

Nakula, puzzled but intrigued, broke the sombre tone, "You speak in riddles, Niyati."

This time, Niyati smiled faintly, "Brata Nakula, I have been direct. Perhaps the weight of my words makes them feel like riddles. Understanding lies with the listener."

Vasusena and Arjuna exchanged glances before speaking in unison, "Do not change too much, Niyati."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "If I don't, who will?"

Vasusena responded with determination, "We will."

Arjuna nodded in agreement. "Yes, we will."

Niyati tilted her head, intrigued. "And how will you do that?"

"With strength and determination," Vasusena replied firmly, his eyes burning with resolve.

Arjuna echoed the sentiment with a nod.

Yudhishthira stepped forward, his voice heavy with emotion, "We do not know who you truly are, Niyati. Yet, we know this—you are our anchor. Your kindness, compassion, and love are gifts we can never repay. Even if you never use your powers to help us again, your presence alone is enough."

The brothers nodded in unison, their silent agreement filling the space with quiet solidarity.

For the first time in days, Niyati's smile reached her eyes. She turned to Yuyutsu, her gaze softening, "Now I see why Brata Krishna loves this gang."

Bhima, sensing the mood needed lightening, grinned mischievously, "We're a gang now, are we?"

The others laughed, and the heaviness began to dissipate.

"Apparently so!" Nakula quipped. "A gang of misfits with Brata Bhima as our leader of chaos."

"Leader?" Bhima raised an eyebrow with mock offence. "I'm more like the heart of this gang. Without me, you'd all be bored stiff."

"Or safe," Sahadeva added with a sly grin, earning a playful nudge from Bhima.

Arjuna smirked. "Safe, yes. But where's the fun in that?"

Yuyutsu, who rarely engaged in banter, said, "With Brata Bhima leading, I fear for the sanity of our enemies."

The room erupted into laughter, and Bhima stood, puffing his chest dramatically, "You see? Even our enemies fear me!"

Niyati shook her head, her smile softening into a look of deep affection. "You all are truly something else. Even in the darkest times, you find light. Brata Krishna was right—you are extraordinary."

They continued to tease and jest, their laughter carrying well into the night. For a moment, the looming threat of the cursed house and their uncertain future felt far away, replaced by the warmth of companionship and the resilience of their bond.

Tunnels of Deliverance

The following dawn was serene yet laden with tension. Niyati lay resting, her stillness more profound than sleep, while the Pandavas, alongside Kunti, quietly busied themselves with their chores. Kunti approached to wake her, concerned for her well-being, but Yuyutsu urgently stepped forward. "Mata, please stop," he said gently. "She is not asleep. This is Yog Nidra. Do not disturb her now."

Kunti's brow furrowed with worry, her voice trembling slightly. "Will she ever sleep, Putra? How can she bear such exhaustion?"

Yuyutsu hesitated before replying, his tone respectful yet firm. "No, Mata. She does not sleep as we do." Then, without elaborating further, he returned to his tasks, leaving Kunti and the Pandavas puzzled yet hesitant to press further.

The air was thick with questions they dared not ask. They had learned to trust Niyati's silence, yet they all felt the weight of her burdens, even if they could not fully comprehend it.

As the day passed, a stranger approached them, a man whose demeanor bore the marks of loyalty and purpose. His eyes flickered with urgency as he spoke in hushed tones. "I am here on behalf of Rajkumari Niyati. She sent me to ensure the safety of the Pandavas. My skills lie in digging, and my task is to aid you. Please, tell me how I may serve."

The brothers exchanged glances, their unease palpable. The man continued, his voice lowering further. "On the fourteenth night of this Krishna Paksha, Purochana plans to set fire to this house. I have heard of the vile plot to burn you, O sons of Pandu, along with your revered mother and Mahamahim Yuyutsu. Rajkumari Niyati foresaw this danger and instructed me to act for your protection. She trusts me implicitly, and that trust binds me."

The gravity of his words settled heavily upon them. Yudhishthira, his composure steady despite the storm raging within, stepped forward. "Your words and Niyati's wisdom confirm our fears. You are indeed a true and trusted ally. Your presence here is an extension of her foresight and care. Just as she holds our welfare close to her heart, so do we entrust our lives to you. Protect us as she would, with unwavering diligence."

Vasusena's voice grew firmer, tinged with the bitterness of betrayal. "We know this house was built with malice under the command of Suyodhana. That treacherous man seeks to rob us of everything we hold dear, including our lives. Yet we will not falter. Use your skill to craft a path of escape, and let us outwit those who wish us harm. Niyati's wisdom shines as a beacon, and we will honour it by surviving this peril."

The man bowed deeply, his resolve strengthening. "I will do all within my power," he vowed.

With meticulous care, the digger began excavating a tunnel beneath the house. Each stroke of his hands was deliberate, each movement a testament to his loyalty. The tunnel took shape at the centre of the house, its narrow mouth concealed beneath wooden planks to avoid suspicion. The Pandavas watched with quiet gratitude, their faith in Niyati's guidance growing deeper.

At night, they retreated to the hidden tunnel, their weapons by their sides, the shadows of uncertainty enveloping them. By day, they donned the guise of carefree hunters, venturing into the forests while keeping a close watch on Purochana. Their laughter and camaraderie were a mask for the unease that simmered beneath the surface.

Yet through it all, they clung to hope—a hope nurtured by Niyati's unwavering determination.

The digger, ever vigilant, kept his eyes on the gate, ensuring no movement escaped his notice. Meanwhile, the Pandavas lived with the dichotomy of trust and betrayal, showing the world a facade of peace while their hearts prepared for war.

In Varanāvata, no one suspected the truth of their plight. Only Niyati's trusted confidant, the steadfast digger, knew the full extent of the danger they faced and the hope they carried within.

A Bond of Resilience

The next day was unexpectedly special, a rare moment of joy and relief after nearly six long years of challenges. The Pandavas and Yuyutsu stood in awe as Bhishma, Vidura, and his wife Aruni arrived to meet them. As the three elders stepped into the house, an inexplicable sense of gravity enveloped the air—an unspoken tension everyone felt but could not articulate.

After exchanging warm greetings and receiving the blessings of their elders, the room fell into a contemplative silence. Bhishma, his voice tinged with sorrow and anger, broke the quiet. "I do not understand what has come over Dritarashtra. I imagined something different when Putri Niyati told me we would meet here. But seeing the state of affairs, I am ashamed. Never did I expect this treachery to befall you. How could Dritarashtra stoop so low as to approve this? Putra Vasusena, why didn't you stand against it? You have every right to challenge such injustice."

Vasusena looked up, his face a mix of calm and resolve. His voice carried the weight of his convictions, "Pitamah, Niyati spoke highly of this place, and her words initially made me trust the decision. But once it was brought before the court, I saw the council shift towards Tatshree Dritarashtra. Bribes sealed their loyalty. Greed was plain in their eyes, and I realized my words carried little weight against such corruption. I tried to honour my promise to Prathamamba Gandhari, but it seems they crossed every line of decency and Dharma with this act."

Vidura nodded gravely, his voice firm but pained, "You are right, Putra Vasusena. Retaining and regrouping are sometimes the wisest choices when the throne is threatened. But looking at this house, I can only conclude one thing—they have built it to ensure your deaths through fire."

A gasp escaped Aruni's lips, her face paling as she turned to Vidura, "Arya, what are you saying? Death? How could they even conceive such a thing?"

Her eyes reflecting years of fortitude and heartbreak, Kunti reached out to hold Aruni's trembling hands. "Yes, Aruni. Suyodhana, Shakuni, and Kanika have conspired to kill us all. They see us as obstacles, not family. This house is their trap."

Aruni's hands tightened around Kunti's, her voice trembling with fear and indignation, "I can understand their hatred for you all—though it pains me—but what about Yuyutsu? What has he done to deserve this? He is their brother, their blood!"

Bhishma's voice cut through the tension like a blade, his tone resolute, "Suyodhana cannot tolerate Yuyutsu because he embodies Dharma. His mere presence is a threat to Suyodhan's ambitions. Yuyutsu's integrity and fairness might draw people to him, and they could rally behind him as the rightful king. That alone is reason enough for Suyodhana to wish him gone."

The room was silent again but charged with a storm of emotions—anger, fear, sorrow, and determination. The Pandavas stood as pillars of resilience, their mother a beacon of strength. Aruni's tears shimmered as she gazed at each of them, silently vowing her support.

His eyes filled with pride and regret, and Bhishma looked at them individually, "You must endure this trial as you have endured so many before. But know this—you do not stand alone. Dharma and those who believe in it are on your side. You are meant for greatness; no fire, plot, or treachery can extinguish that."

A Path of Conquest

As dawn broke, Niyati awoke from her Yog Nidra and stepped out of her room, her calm presence radiating a quiet strength. Kunti, watching over her with a mother's concern, visibly relaxed, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.

Yuyutsu approached with a glass of sharbat, his smile warm and thoughtful, "Here, you must refresh yourself," he said with quiet deference.

Before Niyati could thank him, Nakula and Sahadeva, always quick to spot an opportunity for humor, piped up with cheeky grins, "Brata Yuyutsu, we've been around you far longer than Niyati has! Where's our sharbat?" Nakula teased, nudging Sahadeva.

"Yes! Are we not worthy of such royal treatment?" Sahadeva added, mockingly pretending to be offended.

Yuyutsu rolled his eyes, playing along, "Ah, I see. Next time, I'll bring you both a barrel filled to the brim! But only if you promise to stop being such mischievous little brothers!"

Everyone chuckled, the light-hearted moment a balm to the household's heaviness. Even Bhishma, seated with Vidura nearby, allowed a faint smile to grace his face.

As the laughter subsided, Niyati turned towards Bhishma and Vidura, her expression suddenly serious. She folded her hands in respect. "Pranipat, Pitamah, Kaka Shree," she began, her voice steady but tinged with urgency. "I am aware of Khandavaprastha and Takshaka. In due time, we will address those matters. But for now, I must share something far more pressing."

The weight in her tone silenced the room immediately, drawing everyone's full attention. Bhishma, his face shadowed with both pride and concern, nodded. "Speak, Putri," he urged, his voice gentle yet commanding.

Niyati's gaze shifted to Vasusena, who stood tall and attentive. "Jyeshta Radheya," she said, carrying affection and authority, "I ask you to embark on a Digvijaya. Go forth and conquer, but do not take the army of Hastinapur with you. You are a Vijayadhari (the wielder of the bow Vijaya). That alone is enough."

The declaration hung in the air, and Bhishma, ever the strategist, interjected with a note of concern, "Putri, single-handedly? He will need an army. A Digvijaya is no small task."

Niyati met his gaze with unwavering confidence, "He does not need one, Pitamah. Yuyutsu will accompany Jyeshta Vasusena. And you, Pitamah, will guide them—not as a warrior, but as their strategist. Your wisdom will shape their path. Kaka Shree Vidura will lend his counsel from afar. Together, they will succeed. We will reunite in Panchal."

"Panchal?" Bhishma echoed, his brows furrowing in confusion. The others exchanged puzzled glances, sensing the moment's gravity but unsure of its meaning.

Niyati's expression softened, though her words remained firm. "Yes, Panchal. There is much to be done, and forces greater than us are at play. Some things cannot be avoided, Pitamah. But the one who holds the power to avert catastrophe... is not me." Her gaze shifted to Kunti while all understood her earlier knowledge about 'WORDS.'

Bhishma sighed deeply, his worry evident, "If we leave, Dritarashtra and his allies will surely learn of Vasusena's actions. It could provoke them further."

Niyati's eyes flashed with determination, "Which is precisely why he will leave only after the destruction of this house. When the time comes, we will send a letter that will divert their attention. I will reveal what it contains later. For now, Jyeshta Radheya, begin preparing your strategy. Decide which kingdoms you will bring under your name."

She turned to Sahadeva, her voice steady yet encouraging. "Brata Sahadeva, once Jyeshta has mapped out his plans, align them with the stars. Ensure that every step of this Digvijaya is in harmony with destiny. This campaign must not fail, Suryaputr. I trust you to command with wisdom and precision. Yuyutsu will support you, but the decisions are yours to make. Lead wisely."

The room fell silent, the enormity of the task ahead sinking in. But amidst the gravity, there was also an unshakable sense of purpose—a belief that they could overcome even the darkest trials together. Niyati's words lingered like a beacon, lighting the path forward.

The Path of No Return

"However, Purochana will speak of Pitamah and Kaka Shree being present here. And... I'm confused," Arjuna said, his voice laced with unease. "Jyeshta Brata Vasusena will leave with Brata Yuyutsu, Pitamah, Kaka Shree, and Kaki Shree. But what about us?"

Niyati turned to Arjuna, her expression calm yet enigmatic. A faint, knowing smile curved her lips. "Purochana doesn't know about Pitamah, Kaka Shree, and Kaki Shree. Did you not feel a shift when they entered? A presence that cannot be explained but is undeniably felt?"

The room fell silent as everyone recalled the unspoken energy that had enveloped them upon Bhishma and Vidura's arrival. "Do not ask what it is, for even I cannot fully articulate it. But that very presence is why Purochana knows nothing of them."

She paused, her smile fading as her tone grew sombre. "As for the rest, the story remains unchanged—Suryaputr did not burn in the fire. But the rest of us... we are presumed dead. Including me."

The declaration landed like a thunderclap. Gasps echoed through the room, disbelief etched on every face.

Kunti was the first to break the stunned silence, her voice trembling. "It's better this way. Vasusena's Digvijaya will shield him, and if we return to Hastinapur, they will surely try to harm us again. But, Putri Niyati... you being dead? What will I tell my brother and nephews?

Niyati met her mother's gaze with quiet assurance. "They know... I'm alive," she said.

Arjuna frowned, his confusion deepening. "How? How could they possibly know?"

"Some connections transcend all barriers, Partha," Niyati replied, soft but resolute. "The bond I share with my Brata Krishna is unlike any other. He and Yuyutsu will be the first to feel it when I cease to exist. That is the nature of our connection."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Even as she revealed something so profound, the weight of her impending 'death' overshadowed all else.

"Please, Putri," Bhishma interjected, his tone pleading. "Do not speak of death so lightly. These words..."

Niyati turned to Bhishma, her eyes filled with an understanding that cut deeper than words. "You, Pitamah, have been blessed with iccha mrityu. But in the days to come, as the course of the Kuru dynasty unfolds, I fear you may find yourself longing for the end. The burden of witnessing it all might become too great, even for you."

Her statement sent another wave of shock rippling through the room. Bhishma's expression darkened, but he said nothing. He alone understood the truth behind her words, though the pain of it weighed heavily on his heart.

Breaking the tension, Niyati's voice regained its steady command. "Now, let us focus on the task at hand. You must immediately leave Pitamah, Kaka Shree Vidura, and Kaki Shree Aruni. Take refuge on the city outskirts. It has already been a year since we have been here. Jyeshta Vasusena and Yuyutsu will join you within a day or two. I will personally ensure that the letter is prepared."

Her gaze swept across the room, her presence anchoring them amidst their turmoil. "This letter should be sent only after the news of our supposed deaths reaches Hastinapur. It is crucial that the timing is perfect. Pitamah, you must ensure this."

Bhishma nodded solemnly, his usual confidence now tempered by the moment's gravity. The others exchanged glances, the reality of their circumstances sinking in.

As the room began to move with purpose, Niyati stood firm, her calm resolve a pillar of strength for them all. Yet beneath her unyielding exterior lay the weight of their sacrifices—a burden she bore without hesitation for the sake of a future none could yet see.

A Phoenix Rises

It had been a year since the Pandavas had lived in the lacquer house. The walls, built to entrap and destroy them, had silently witnessed their days of camaraderie, planning, and quiet defiance.

Purochana, blind to the undercurrents, reveled in his perceived triumph. He was convinced his plan was impenetrable. The Pandavas' unsuspecting demeanor fed his delusion, and his delight was palpable. But the fire of justice simmered beneath their calm facades.

In the dimly lit firepit chamber, Yudhishthira called his brothers together. His voice, steady but intense, resonated with the moment's weight. "The time has come," he said, locking eyes with each of his siblings. "Purochana believes we trust him, but he has underestimated us. Tonight, the house will burn. Purochana will meet the fate he intended for us, and seven bodies will remain to obscure our escape."

Bhima's fists tightened, his anger flaring like the fire they would soon unleash. "Let the flames take him," he growled. "Let his cruelty be consumed by the inferno he built."

Kunti, seated nearby, remained silent, her face a canvas of maternal anguish and steely determination. Her eyes moved between her children, lingering on Niyati, whose serene presence starkly contrasted the night's turmoil. Yuyutsu stood by the doorway, his expression shadowed with guilt and resolve.

Niyati stepped forward, her voice unwavering, a calm anchor in the tempest. "This fire is more than our escape. It is the first step towards a reckoning. The veil of ashes will shroud our survival, but it must be precise. We cannot falter."

That evening, Kunti organized a grand feast under the guise of festivity. Brahmanas, villagers, and women came in droves, enjoying the food and drink offered with deceptive hospitality. Among them was a hunter woman and her five sons, driven by hunger and intoxicated by wine. Their laughter filled the lacquer house, unaware that destiny had cast them in a tragic role.

As the storm intensified outside, the plan unfolded. Bhima lit the fire at the base of the house where Purochana slept. Flames roared to life, devouring the lacquer with ferocious hunger. The heat was unbearable, the blaze relentless. Purochana's screams pierced the air but were soon drowned out by the crackling inferno.

Outside, the citizens of Varanāvata gathered, their faces pale with horror. "Duryodhana's evil has turned against him," they whispered. "Dritarashtra's blindness has destroyed the innocent. The Pandavas, supreme among men, have perished in this hellish plot."

Within the tunnel, the Pandavas moved as one. Though physically exhausted, Kunti pushed forward; her determination outweighed her weariness. Bhima, ever the protector, moved to her side. "Mata, let me carry you," he said, lifting her onto his shoulder without waiting for a reply. Nakula and Sahadeva steadied themselves on his hips while Vasusena and Arjuna walked beside him, their footsteps resolute.

Behind them, Niyati and Yuyutsu brought up the rear. Niyati's gaze lingered on the flames consuming the house, a silent prayer passing her lips. "This is only the beginning," she whispered.

Nakula's voice broke the silence. "Jyeshta Brata, what lies beyond this tunnel?"

"Hope," Vasusena replied, his voice steady. "Hope for a tomorrow where we reclaim our place, where dharma prevails."

When they emerged from the tunnel, the cool night air felt like salvation. Vasusena turned to face the distant glow of the fire, his expression hard with resolve. "The lie of your death will shield us," he said, his voice heavy with meaning. "For now."

Kunti's voice trembled as she spoke, her heart heavy with grief. "The hunter woman and her children... they were innocent. Their lives were lost for our escape."

Niyati placed a comforting hand on Kunti's shoulder. "Their sacrifice will not be forgotten, Mata. They have become part of a larger story that will bring justice to all suffering."

Vasusena nodded at Yuyutsu, who retrieved a scroll and quill from his bag. Niyati stepped forward, her voice steady as she dictated.

Pranipat Rajkumar Dritarashtra,

I am Vasusena, son of your brother Pandu, who loved you deeply and shielded your insecurities. Yet today, surrounded by those who feed your fears, you've turned your back on us.

What have your sons brought upon us? Death and betrayal. I write to you as the last of my family, for the fire they set has claimed my brothers, my mother, and my home. Purochana is ashes, and so is the trust we placed in you.

Prathamamba Gandhari, I once promised you that I would treat all my brothers equally. I have kept my word. But what has that loyalty earned us? Treachery, betrayal, and death.

You all speak of dharma, yet your actions scream adharma. You believe this fire ends our story, but it is only the beginning. Your sons will reap the curse of their deeds. The doom they've sown will take root, and I will not need to lift a hand.

I appoint Prathamamba Gandhari as the rightful Queen of Hastinapur. Not your sons, not you. Remember, my forgiveness is a gift I give to myself—not to you.

The day I return to your court, I will not seek justice; I will witness its inevitability.

Until that day, Vasusena

As the cool night air embraced them, the Pandavas stood together, their bond unshaken despite the ordeal. Time paused momentarily as they turned to each other, drawing strength from their shared grief and hope.

Vasusena's steady gaze met each of his brothers, and they embraced one by one, their silent promise to endure and prevail echoing in the stillness. Yuyutsu stood by Vasusena's side, his loyalty unwavering, as they turned towards the distant figures of Bhishma, Vidura, and Aruni, awaiting them with outstretched arms.

Meanwhile, guided by Niyati's unerring resolve, Kunti and the others began their path into the night. Trusting her wisdom, they set forth, their hearts heavy yet filled with a quiet determination to see the dawn of a new destiny.