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Chapter Text

Kripa looked over the training fields sharply before turning towards the youngest recruit among them, Adhiratha's firstborn. After do maheene since Adhiratha's second son was given a death sentence for the crime of hearing sacred scriptures no suta, here his lips curled, has right to learn... The firstborn have been sent for the army.

Usually Kripa or Bheesma would have refused. The boy is only one and ten varsh old and sutas are usually recruited into the army at six and ten varsh old. However, Adhiratha came to them with folded hands begging for his son's inclusion into the army.

"Please Gurudev..." He begged on his knees. "Vasu was not himself after Shon's death. He stopped talking to anyone and started skipping meals. He lost his smile and is melancholic most of the day. He is losing himself day after day and I fear if he goes on this way he'll die." He sobbed. "Before Shon's death Vasu wished to learn art of war. He was born with natural armour because we prayed for a child. Last week he flayed himself to take it off. We would have lost him too if Padmavathi, his friend, hadn't gone searching for him. I don't know what he will do next. Please take him in so his mind will be occupied by something other than the death of his brother."

Unable to deny the faithful charioteer's plea, they acquiesced asking him to bring the child to them.

One look at the boy made Kripa understand why Adhiratha and his wife feared for their son's life. Both he and Bhisma were shocked at the emptiness staring back at them in the form of the child. His face was vacant as he noticed their presence and he simply stared at them. It was like someone had sucked the life out of him and he was void of emotions, feelings, and all that made life worth living. He was pale and gaunt with hollowed cheeks and a thin body. Nudged by his father, he bowed at their feet.

"Pranaam Mahamahima Bhisma. Pranaam Guru Kripa." He spoke with a surprisingly strong voice. "My name is Vasusena but except for mata and pita everyone calls me Radheya."

"Today we will go over the basics and see how well you can fight unarmed. Mala Yudh is basic which every warrior has to learn if they ever were to lose a weapon. Have you ever learned how to do so?" Kripa spoke after a few moments.

"No Guru Kripa." The boy replied softly.

"Very well. We will see how you fare against older recruits. Mala Yudh bhoomi is over there." Kripa ordered. "Vinda come over here."

A lean bronze skinned man walked towards them and bowed to the Guru. "Vinda this is Vasusena, Adhiratha's firstborn son. Spar with him so I may gauge his capabilities."

"Ready, begin!"

Vinda began to circle Vasu and performed a few mock lunges to throw the boy off and lose balance. The boy looked dull and lifeless as he was before and didn't even bother to react to his taunts. When he realized that Vasu wasn't going to fall for his tricks, the man came in and threw a few punches that while fast would still allow a beginner to dodge and evade.

What any of the people around didn't count on was Vasu grabbing the outstretched appendage and pulling with all his might. The older student was caught off guard by the move and the man soon found himself launched out of the ring and a great deal away from the group. The act was unexpected but not dangerous or life threatening as the man flipped and righted himself in the air before he landed in a crouch.

That was beyond what any of them had anticipated from a beginner. But jarring is the change in the face of the child. Gone was his apathy replaced by focus and sheer determination. Kripa then sent for other warriors to test the child but the boy fought like a bull. None of the older students have lasted long against him. Vasu was not skilled like others but despite how many punches that were thrown against him he bore without crying out loud and once any opponent made a mistake of getting into his grasp or staying still for any moment of time, they were thrown outside the ring like a rag doll.

'Parameshwar... if he is this strong now...' Kripa thought at that time. 'when he is malnourished and small. What will he be when he grew up.'

When the lessons started, the boy proved himself that he isn't just only brawns. Not a single thing has to be repeated twice. All the techniques taught to him were mastered by the next day. The boy practiced and practiced not stopping for food, water or sleep till he managed to perform it to perfection.

Within theen maheen, there was nothing left for him to learn in the basics of Mala Yudh. It takes an average trainee eighteen months to two years to learn, and usually they are five to six years older. And in the final bouts, the boy trounced each and everyone of the soldiers sent against him. He fought back to back from Sūryōday to Sūryāstam without a break and the boy didn't even break a sweat. To challenge the boy, the next day Kripa sent groups of three at once on the second day, five men at once on the third day and ten men at once on the fourth day and only then did the boy begin to breath heavily. The boy was adept at the end of three months that no soldiers dared to fight him in hand-to-hand combat. Kripa has a strange suspicion that Vasu was holding back but the decisive defeat of the soldiers at the hand of the boy made him hold his suspicions.

'What a shame that the boy is a suta.' Kripa thought sometimes. 'That mind, strength and skill was wasted on this lowly suta. This skill should have belonged to a Kshatriya. What a waste.'

"The child was progressing at an impressive rate, Kripa." The Protector of Hasthinapur stated to his brother.  "theen maheene mein unhonne apanee shiksha pooree kee. Now we are to teach him how to wield arms. Wonder which weapon will he choose?"

"There is something unnatural about the child, Pitamah Devavrata." Kripa frowned. "The child is unworthy to shine the boots of Kshatriyas but I have no doubt that in pure physical prowess he would overwhelm any of them. We may teach Kshatriyas the advanced techniques which we will never teach a suta but even then I think they will fall before him unless they have knowledge of Celestial weapons. He seems like an aberration sent by the spirit of asuras to decline our faith in dharma."

"Aberration or not... he is a child now. Maybe we will appoint him to be a bodyguard for Yudhistara or any children Gandhari will give birth to after he completes his training." Bheesma spoke kindly. "I have a feeling that if he was given our education and training he would one day maybe be my equal."  That is a lofty praise and coming from Gangaputr. Bheesma does not give praise easily and is never the person to give praise to undeserving. "He wants to learn sword next, it seems. Odd I thought that he would pick up the bow first."

"Let's see if his prowess goes beyond Mala Yudh, Pitamah."

It has been eleven years since she came to Hasthinapura, after her husband and her sister-wife willingly entered Vanavaas. In the Vanavaas she learnt about her husband's curse. While hunting in a forest (looking from a distance, Pandu saw a couple of deer in the process of coitus, and shot arrows at them. He later discovered that it was the sage Kindama and his wife who were making love in the form of deer. The dying sage placed a curse on Pandu, for not only had he killed them in the midst of lovemaking, but was not remorseful for his actions either. King Pandu argued with sage Kindama by misquoting sage Agastya's ruling on the right of Kshatriyas' to hunt. Sage Kindama then cursed Pandu that were he to approach his wives with the intent of making love, he would die.

He could not have children from his wives as he was supposed to treat them as relatives due to the curse by sage Kindama. A remorseful Pandu renounced the kingdom and went into exile with Kunti and Madri. He met some sages and asked them away for heaven and salvation. They said, without children, one can never aspire to heaven.

Pandu told her that he didn't want his impotency to be spread as rumours. He stated that by Niyoga he would gain sons through his wives and planned to adopt them as his own during the Vanavaas. He ashamedly told them that he wanted sons of his own but he would be killed if he touched them with the intention of making love. On hearing his anguish Kunti told him her story.

Sage Durvasa, who is known for irascible nature, was also known for granting boons to those who pleased him, particularly when he had been served well as an honoured guest. When Kunti was a young girl, Durvasa visited Kuntibhoja one day and sought his hospitality. The king entrusted the sage to his daughter's care and tasked Kunti with the responsibility of entertaining the sage and meeting all his needs during his stay. Kunti patiently put up with Durvasa's temper and his unreasonable requests (such as demanding food at odd hours of the night) and served the sage with great dedication. Eventually, the sage is gratified. Before departing, he rewarded Kunti by teaching her the Atharvaveda mantras, which enables a woman to invoke any god of her choice to beget children by them.

On hearing her story Pandu was elated. He then requested her to beget children from the Gods. Then Kunti used the boon granted to her by Sage Durvasa to bear three sons—Yudhishthira by Yama Dharmaraja - The God of Justice; Bhima by Vayu - The God of wind, and Arjuna by Indra - The King of Svarga (Heaven). She also invoked Ashwinis for Madri on her behest and Madri gave birth to twin sons, Nakula and Sahadeva.

All five children are beautiful and each of them are blessed by gods with unique abilities. Yudhisththira was born with knowledge of Vedas and Dharma. Bhima was so strong that on the day of his birth he broke a hill with bare fists. Arjuna has complete control over his senses and even as a child he showed the makings of a great warrior. Nakula and Sahadeva are gorgeous and both are knowledgeable.

However, on their tenth year of Vanvaas, Pandu forgot his curse and engaged in sexual intercourse with Madri despite her pleas. Due to this act, his curse was fulfilled and he died. Attributing her husband's death to herself and swept by remorse, Madri committed suicide after placing Nakula and Sahadeva in her care.

Now bearing the bodies of her husband and her sister, Kunti returned to Hasthinapura with five children. Pitamah Bheeshma was unconsolable on seeing the dead body of his nephew and for the first time she saw his breakdown. Gandhari embraced her kindly and requested her servants to prepare the funeral rights for Pandu and Madri.

"Ayushmaan Bhava..." Gandhari blessed them when they bowed at her feet to take her blessings. "Gods above have blessed this Kuru vansh with one hundred and five heirs. Prince Yudhisththira go with Pitamah Bheeshma and complete the funeral rites." Turning to Kunti she spoke. "We recently gained the services of Guru Drona who accepted to teach the children of Kuru vansh. Pitamah Bheeshma, Lord Vidur, Guru Kripa and myself wish all our children be taught under him. They might be cousins by blood but they will be Guru Bhratas. Will you consent to this Pritha?"

Before Kunti could speak there was a strangled scream from her third born son and he fell down to the ground unconscious. A few moments later a guard came bearing the news that Suyodhana fell down in the playground with epilepsy. Both mothers felt a chill pass through their heart at the news. Is someone targeting the Princes of Kurus?

Suyodhana woke up with a strangled scream looking into the worried eyes of Sushasana. Looking into the worried eyes of Sushasana... his brother who was so brutally killed by Bhima that even a rakshasa would repulsed. Both his hands uprooted, his chest torn apart and his blood drunk by that rakshasa. Blood that was used to wash the hair of Paanchali to fulfil her not tying her hair until they are not washed by Dushasana’s blood. Sushasana, who died just a day before Karna was looking at him with worried eyes.

'Is this an illusion?' he thought frantically. 'Is this my version of hell?'

"Bhrata Suyodhana has risen from his sleep." Sushasana yelled. In a few moments his room was filled within a few moments. All his brothers looked at him in apprehension. He remembered each and everyone of their deaths at the hands of that monster he called his cousin. He remembered performing the funeral rites of Karna. He remembered his willingness to walk to his death tomorrow to die at Bheem's hands. Vasudev will not allow him to live. By any means necessary he will make sure Duryodhana will die tomorrow.

The faces of his dead brothers were almost too much for him before he realised that they were young. Too young and at the very most eight years of age. He then looked at his hands and saw he too was in the body of a child.

'Is this his punishment? Is he supposed to watch his brothers die one by one again? What the hell is happening?' he thought.

Unknown to him the third Pandava too woke up in a similar situation.

The anguish of his mother was the last thing he saw before he woke up in a child's body. Did she think he would die at the hands of that sycophantic iconoclast? That a Kshatriya like him will fall before the bootlicker who sold his dharma for gold and kingdom? Did someone lie to her about the outcome between clash between him and Angaraj?

Whatever it might be, he was ready to console his mother and show her that he was still alive and Dharma won that day. But the moment he got down from the chariot, he blacked out and woke up in his child's body.

Why this happened he has no idea. Maybe they killed that adharmi with adharma. Say what you want about Vasusena, he was an excellent warrior and pious man. Even with all the privileges his birth has granted him, he was barely able to kill that bull of a man. Maybe fate has given him a second chance to butcher the man without sullying his honour. Now he could be an even better warrior than before. Angaraj... no he is no longer the Angaraj, Vasusena would be sixteen years old now. He would join training with Pandavas and Kauravas under Guru Kripa and Guru Drona. He would be later trained by Guru Parashuram after deceiving the divine sage.

He smiled cruelly to himself. Maybe if he broke Vasusena's pride by being an unbeatable warrior during their training maybe he would never dare to challenge him. The first time around, despite being seven years his junior, Arjuna was able to match him. But now with him having several years of experience under his belt... Vasusena would be nothing but a bug under his foot.

Chapter Text

It was done and he lost.

He could taste iron in his mouth, smell the ash in the air, feel his heartbeat falter and slow.

The pain had faded now, the all-consuming agony now a blessed numbness and through his blurry vision he could see his most hated enemy (also his brother) in front of him.  Arjuna. He could hear the cry of despair from his beloved friend, a wail of overwhelming anguish. Suyodhan never cried that way even when his brothers were killed. The Kauravas playfully spoke several times that their elder brother loved him more than he loved them and he never thought it to be true. Guess they are right in that regard.

He felt his spirit leaving his body and in those moments he saw all the moments of his life. His life before his younger brother was killed by that Brahmin for listening to mantras. His tutelage under Guru Drona, Guru Kripa and Guru Parushuram. He remembers his friendship with Suyodhan and the Kauravas.He remembers the love he held for his wives, children and grandchildren.

He remembered in his jealousy how he cast away his sense, for his friendship how he cast away his values, in his entitlement how many people he hurt through words and actions. Funny how death gives clarity he could never gain in his life.

"Sorry Suyodhan... I have failed." were his last words.

So finally the great warrior closed his eyes.

Those eyes were reopened to see molten lead being poured into his little brother's mouth.

Arjuna started to wonder whether the premonition he received was actually true or not. The first glaring difference, when he came to the past, was the death of Gandharraj Shakuni.

One of the main architects of Kurukshetra war, Shakuni, was the person who supported Duryodhana the most and helped him design the plots against their brothers. Arjuna made subtle enquiries about him and was shocked to learn that he was killed four years ago.

The death itself was mysterious. As Gandharraj was visiting his sister Queen Gandhari, an arrow came from an open window and destroyed him with his head falling down at his sister's foot. The astra fired was Brahmastra and except for Guru Parashuram, Guru Drona and Pitamah Bheesma no others knew how to use it nearby Hasthinapura. Accusations have been thrown but Pitamah Bheesma and Guru Drona swore on Shivalinga that the deed had not been done by them. Guru Parashuram replied that his grudge against Kshatriyas had been completed and he has not taught any students as none of his present students are worthy of handling Brahmastra.

Queen Gandhari was unconsolable with the death of her final remaining brother and the only reason she didn't fall into complete depression was her love for her sons. The investigation hit a dead end and the death till date remains a mystery.

Considering the death of Gandharraj maybe the second major difference, Duryodhana's neutral response to Pandavas, was not so shocking at all.  Arjuna remembered a loud, passionate and uninhibited child who didn't change much when he reached manhood.

However, this Duryodhana... he moved and behaved like a panther. Calm with a calculating glint in his eyes and he moved with the quiet grace of a dancer. He didn't like or immediately accept the Pandavas but he wasn't agonistic towards them. The most shocking part is what he heard when he was hiding in barracks.

"Bhrata Yudhisthira is the eldest of this generation of Kuru vansh." He heard Duryodhana say to his brothers. "That means unless father announces otherwise he is the Crown Prince. I don't ask you to like him let alone love him but show him respect."

"But Bhrata Suyodhana..."

"No Anuj..." He shook his head. "Our father may love me but Pitamah Bheesma, Kripacharya and the court do not like me too much. I am a dirt-born child and ill omen in their eyes. Whatever good qualities I have... all will be nothing in their eyes as I am born under the wrong horoscope.  If Pandavas beat us black and blue, they'll tell us to suck up. If we retaliate we will be adharmi in their eyes. Don't give them even more ammunition against us. Just be on your best behaviour."

"Why should we care what those old fossils think?" Sushasana grumbled.

"Unsatisfied public is the ruler's doom. And a kingdom in which a ruler who couldn't trust his own ministers is like a house built without a foundation. Their anger and resentment will boil over and revolt will occur." was the answer.

Arjuna's blood boiled at those accusations. Despite all the adharma Duryodhana performed in his other life... Pitamah Bheesma fought on Kaurava side and gave up his life. Kripacharya set aside his dharma participated in the brutal killing of his sweet Abhimanyu for this monster. How could he say that such loyal people will betray him?

Before he could voice his displeasure damned the consequences, Vikarna spoke about the oath made by Bheesma to protect the family always. He also stated that Kripacharya's dharma was to fight on their side despite his feelings. Arjuna waited to see the answer given by Gandharinandan.

"Anuj... Pitamah Bheesma will fight for us in war. He will give us trustworthy advice. But every moment of his service he will hope that Yudhisthira will be the king instead of me." The certainty with which he spoke was terrifying. "If we and Pandavas are to go to war against each other... Pitamah Bheesma will let himself be killed. Whether he's fighting on our side or the other side, he would let himself be killed before he could bring harm to any of his grandchildren. After everything he did for Hasthinapur should his death be an assisted suicide? Tell me Vikarna... Is that the gift Kuru vansh will bestow upon him for his service?"

Vikarna was stunned at the speech, "As for Kripacharya... he will follow us to hell and back but he too will be the same. He won't kill himself, at least not physically, but every moment will be hell for him. I don't want to be the person who will ask a person who loves me or hates me to lay down their life for my ambitions."

"You don't trust Pitamah Bheesma. You don't particularly like ministers in our father's court. So what will you do Bhrata?"

"I'll ask father to split the kingdom between us and Pandavas. I'll send Pitamah Bheesma and ministers to their court. Vikarna... will you be one of my advisors?" He asked, smiling softly.

"Bhrata..."

"If I can't trust my own blood who can I trust in this world?" was his answer. "And you are the most knowledgable among our brothers. And you follow dharma enough that I can trust you to lead me back to the correct path if I was led astray. Above all you are not a sycophant so I can trust you to with my well-being."

'Is this the real Suyodhana without the venomous influence of the Gandharraj? People thought that Lakshmana Kumara got his pacifistic nature from Bhanumathi. However, he is really like his father without the influence of Mama Shakuni.' Parth thought shocked at the child before him. What was the world is he living in?

The architect of the Kurukshetra was dead. The head was a changed man without his influence.

Now... all that remained was Vasusena, the strength that was aimed against the dharma. Arjuna knew Gandharraj's death would have no influence on the path of Vasusena. He will still be the arrogant suta who would try to reach above his station. Maybe he will sell his dharma to other kings this time.

Looking at Vasusena two days later decked top to bottom in Ardharathi armour nearly made him scream in frustration.

After the funeral rites of King Pandu had been completed, the princes of Kuru vansh along with children of people who occupy vital roles in the army are to be sent to Guru Drona for their education. In his previous life he accompanied the princes as he was the son of head charioteer. Now a head charioteer himself, he stood overseeing the preparations to send his brothers and cousins to Dronacharya.

He took a deep breath and exhaled, looking outside the window when he felt a prickly sensation on the back of his neck.

Arjuna was looking at him intently as if he's unable to believe what he's looking at.

For anyone else the third Pandava didn't display any other emotion than feigned disinterest. Arjuna has complete control over all his senses even at this age and no one could read his expressions easily.

However, Vasusena in his previous life vowed to kill Arjuna. Hell, one of the major reasons why he joined the Kauravas was to defeat the third Pandava. He studied him obsessively and know him better than anyone in the entire world. Dhanunjaya was shell shocked on seeing him.

Everyone in this time knew him only as the Ardharathi who followed his father's steps. It shouldn't surprise anyone at this time. But the third Pandava looked at him like he's unable to believe his eyes. If Arjuna was surprised about his age or felt he's deceiving people about his rank,he would be angry that someone was impersonating an official. He wouldn't be shocked enough to be rooted in the spot. He has too much self-control for that. Without any doubt Arjuna is from the future like him.

Well... This changes many things.

"May I know why you are staring intensely at us, Your Highness?" Arjuna was so deep in thought that he didn't see Karna approach him till he was in his face. "Is there anything you need of us?"

"You are in the Ardharathi armour." He stated.

"Yes I am in Ardharathi armour, My Prince. I'm the Head Charioteer for this division so it makes sense for me to wear this."

"You are the Head Charioteer?"

"Yes I am..." was the reply. "Is there any problem, Your Highness?"

"Do you know that lying to the Prince of the Kingdom invites thousand lashes and posing as army officer you'll receive the death penalty?"

"Yes I do." Vasusena replied. "But I have no idea why you are saying this to me?"

"You can't be more than seven and ten years old." Dhanunjaya pointed out. "So as far as I know this is the age where Sutas start training. And to reach the Head Charioteer position at the earliest it would take two years of service in the army. So clearly you are lying."

"Usually you'd be right, Your Highness." Karna nodded. " But due to some circumstances even I have no idea of, I was drafted into the army at age of one and ten. I was trained in Mala Yudh, Khadga Kala, Gada Yudh, Bhaala Yudh, Dhanurvidya and Rath Daud from Guru Kripa. You can ask anyone around here. I have been in the army for one and half years. My father was the Head Charioteer before me but he fell ill. I was given a promotion as my father is unable to continue his duties."

What the hell is happening around this place?

Vasusena, after he moved enough so that Arjuna couldn't hear or see him, laughed till tears formed in his eyes. The face Arjuna made when he saw him still crackled him.

"Vasu... Did something happen today my son?" Radha Maa asked him softly. "You seem to be in high spirits."

Karna shook his head with a smile on his face. "Maa I found that the ingredients needed to make the antidote for father's illness are going to be available in a few days. A merchant from Sindu will be arriving at the end of the week and with him the goods required will arrive."

"Parameshwar ke krupa." Radha spoke happily.

"Anyway amma I'll not be available for the entirety of next week." He stated. "The arrangements for taking the princes to Gurukul fell on me. So this entire week I'll be busy. What is Sangramjitha and the others doing amma?"

"They are currently practicing drills you have taught them, Vasu. They wanted to emulate their bhrata.'" those words bought smile on his face. "I think the kids will miss their brother so spend time with them."

Chapter Text

"What has that boy done now?" Gangadutta growled warily

Whatever he was expecting when he enquired about Karna, it certainly isn't this. Just by saying Vasusena's name Bhisma Pitamah looked like he 'd contemplating strangling someone with his bare hands, most likely the man in question. He looked so vexed that Arjuna wondered what Karna did in this life to earn his ire.

"He's impersonating as the Head Charioteer, Pitamah Bhisma. I warned him that impersonating as a member of the Army invites death sentence but he said that he got promoted to his father's position as his father is unable to continue his duties due to his illness."

Instead of getting angry Pitamah Bhisma sagged in relief. "Vasusena is the Head Charioteer of a division, Arjuna." Bheesma told his favorite grandson.

"Truly Pitamah?"

"Yes, my child."

"B-but he's so y-young." He stuttered out. "And don't Shudras usually start their training at the age of six and ten?"

"Usually yes... But Vasusena was a bit of an unusual case." The Protector of Hastinapur stated softly. "Out of pity we took him in when he was one and ten years old. Within nine months he completed his basic army training."

"Within nine months?" Arjuna repeated shocked at the number.

"Yes, he completed his training within nine months. His fellow trainees called him a rakshasa. Any weapon we put in his hands he mastered the basics in less than two months. Khadgavidya, Dhanurvidya, Bhaala Yudh, Rath Daud, Gadh Yudh and Mala Yudh all mastered under nine months. None of the others were able to match him."

"Can I ask why he was admitted to the training at such young age?"

"Adhiratha, Vasusena's father, begged us to take his son into the army." Bhisma replied softly. "Vasusena's brother, Shon, was brutally killed in front of his eyes. He became withdrawn and blamed himself for his death. He starved himself, didn't talk much with others and carried on with his days weeping for his brother. The final straw for Adhiratha was when Vasusena flayed himself. When his friend Padmavati found him a few hours later, he had been literally drowned in his own blood. If he had been found even an hour later, no amount of treatment could have prevented his death.."

Arjuna went numb on hearing the plight of his once hated enemy. But there's a niggling voice at the back of his head told him that there's something wrong with this picture.

"He told me that he served in the army for a year and half. If he completed his basic training at eleven... What has he done in the last four and half years when he's not serving in the army?" Arjuna asked in a confused manner.

"Well as you know even though Kripa was a good teacher, he doesn't know the way to teach children how to handle astras. So after his training was completed, he made the journey to Parashurama Kshetram. Despite being a Suta he wanted to wield astras it seems."

"Aren't the astras taught only to those of Brahmin and Kshatriya caste? Did Vasusena learn astras from Guru Parshuram by lying to him about his caste?"

Arjuna can understand Pitamah Bheesma's wrath. Guru Parshuram was his teacher and knowing that the man he looked up to was cheated would arouse the anger of his kind grandfather. So Vasusena is nearly as powerful as he was in his previous life. And knowing Guru Parshuram he might have an identical curse.

"He learned nothing under Guru Parshuram, Arjuna." His thought processes were derailed with those few words.

"I don't understand Pitamah." He said in confusion.

"Parshurama Kshetram, from Hastinapur, is two years travel on foot Arjuna. The boy travelled back and forth without receiving any education from Guru Parshuram. He said that he didn't know the stipulations that Guru Parshuram has for his students and said that he didn't want to lie about who he is. "

"So he travelled from Hastinapur to Parshurama Kshetram and back in futility? A quarter of his life was wasted just like that with nothing to show for it."

"He didn't learn under Guru Parshuram because of his hatred. His hatred turned him into a cold-hearted child who hated Brahmins with all that he is." Bheesma said softly. "Oddly Guru Parshuram said that no one matching Vasusena's description came to learn under him."

So in this life Karna didn't lie about his caste to Guru Parshuram. So why is his sweet grandfather angry about that suta. "Pitamah... You seemed to dislike this Vasusena very much. May I know what he has done to earn your ire?"

"Guru Parshuram himself came to Hastinapur to meet Radheya one and half year ago. He told us that he wanted to see the child who came to him and left without learning anything under him." Gangadutta said softly. "No one knew what had happened during his meeting with Vasusena and no other soul knew what they both spoke about but..."

"But?"

"However, after his talk with that boy, Guru Parshuram has his head bowed down in shame. He was a kind yet prideful man and I never saw him cry in my life. We always know Vasusena was a caustic, bitter and abrasive child but that's no reason for him to be cruel towards my master. He was not the Brahmin who killed Radheya's brother." Bheesma's nostrils flared in an irritated manner. "And yet he made my master cry for no reason other than his hatred."

"Why haven't you chopped his head then?" Arjuna raged when he saw his kind grandfather bought to tears.

"I did try to do so." Devavrata replied grimly. "There was a lot that happened in between but the final result was that he made me apologize to him in front of the whole army."

"WHAT?"

Guru Parashuram was not just a revered teacher, but also his father figure who had instilled in Bhisma a profound sense of duty, honor, and respect. Bound by an unbreakable code of conduct, Bhisma's dedication to his teacher was unwavering. However, when a soldier under his command dared to insult his master due to his hatred, everything changed.

The crying face of his master cut deep into Bhisma's soul like a searing arrow. His blood boiled with anger and indignation at the audacity displayed towards his beloved mentor. The warrior within him thirsted for retribution. His anger for the first time in his life overruled his patience and he picked up his sword and walked towards the home of Radheya.

Anyone with a shred of survival instinct would run the other direction on seeing his face. Anyone with a sense of self-reproach will at least bow down his head in shame.  Vasusena did neither. Instead he ushered all his family members inside his home and turned towards him with mockery on his lips. He then folded his hands and bowed down. The utter gall boiled Bhisma's blood further.

Not even giving a chance for the boy to greet him, Devavrata swung his sword at his exposed neck only for the boy to side step in a blink of eye missing him completely. Radheya sighed in irritation and then proceeded to dodge incoming swings without even bothering to fight back.  One of the swings managed to cut him from shoulder to him but even though it drew blood it was not a deep or serious injury.

"I really should have expected this." Radheya muttered to himself irritated.

The commotion attracted the guards and a few minutes later several soldiers surrounded them both. Guru Parashuram accompanied them looking harried.

"Devavrata! Cease this foolishness at once. Vasusena stand down." he ordered.

As if choosing to pour oil in fire Radheya mocked. "I was just minding my own business. Why are you lumping me with him?"

This pissed off Bhisma into something fierce. "Soldiers arrest him and throw him to dungeons."

"What did my son do?" Radha, Vasusena's mother, wailed. "At least tell us what crime my son committed."

"Amma..." Radheya spoke calmly with a kind smile on his face. "Please go inside. Don't worry too much I'll be back by sunset. I promise."

"But..." "Amma please..." He said softly but in a firm tone. "I promised didn't I?" On seeing her nod he continued "I intend to keep my promise. Please don't worry about me. I'll be back by sunset so make me something delicious."

Unable to say anything in the face of her son's courage, Radha walked away. "Alright then... As an accused I have a choice of choosing someone to represent me. I will speak on my own behalf then. But for the judge I want someone who is impartial and a person who cares only about dharma. So please suggest a judge, Guru Parashuram. Because I was nearly killed in your name and Commander Bhisma has a lot of sway in the courts. Please do me this one favor and select an impartial judge."

"You dare to question our integrity..." One of the soldiers growled as the soldiers surrounding him had their swords and lancets drawn to pierce them through the entrails of the man who had dared to spit at their pious, invincible general.

Vasusena looked dully at him and gestured towards all people who are glaring at him as if his point has been proven. "No one knew what we talked about. No one knew the history between us, Guru Parashuram. Your student nearly killed me..." he stated, pointing at the wound on his body"...yet people have already condemned me as a  wrong-doer. That's the clout Commander Bhisma commands. He was the one who nearly killed me without even questioning me and I'm the wrong-doer here. I didn't even fight back. Tell me who is wrong here? Me or Commander Bhisma?"

When the crowd remained silent he scoffed. "And yet a fool has the gall to pretend that he is impartial. Anyway if I came back here alive by evening, I'm innocent. But if I'm in dungeons or beheaded I'm guilty."

"He was such a mild-mannered child, that Vasusena." Bhisma said softly. "But when provoked his tongue was more poisonous than any cobra. Guru Parashuram chose Vidura to be the judge on that day. Vasusena was not even phased then and for a very good reason. He annihilated us in the court."

In the court of Vidura, in face of all the accusations thrown at him, Vasusena patiently listened but remained silent without losing that mockery on his face. He waited till Gangadutta has exhausted himself and requested a chance to defend himself.

"I won't take long as I promised my mother that I'll be back by sunset." He said, grinning like a fox. "So let me ask both a few questions and the answer they are to give are yes or no. Nothing more, nothing less. I care not for their reasons so can I go ahead?'"

Vidura nodded. "Did Sage Parashuram tell you to bring my head, Commander Bhisma?"

This question led to outrage in the court. "No need to be that agitated. It's a simple question. Yes or No?"

"No." was gritted out.

"According to Dharma, before punishing any person the accused should be given a chance to defend himself. Did you give me that chance, Commander Bhisma?"

"No."

"You said because I had insulted Sage Parashuram, you wished to kill me. Did you know what we talked about?"

"No."

"Did you ask him the reason for which he cried before coming my way to cut me down?"

"No."

"What you have committed is an abuse of power, Commander Bhisma. Do you agree?"

"Yes." All the soldiers in the court looked at each other uneasily.

"Anyways the crime levied against me is that I insulted a sage. It's not a crime worthy of capital punishment as the sages usually curse those who insult them. But still let me clear my name for that crime."

"Sage Parashuram..." He started. "I'll list out everything that happened during your visit to my home. Just answer yes if it's true or no if I have lied."

"You sent one of your disciples, I don't know his name as my mother received him, yesterday to announce that you will be coming to our home in five hours."

"Yes I have sent Manu."

"On your arrival, we received you with respect worthy of your station and gave you a place of honor."

"You and your family did."

"Our entire family served you faithfully and fulfilled all your requests and orders. Did we not?"

"Yes you family did that."

Vasusena looked over the court condemning them with his eyes alone. "So let's come to the crux of the problem. The reason you have cried."

"You gave me a boon. What's the boon and what's my answer, Sage Parashuram?"

"For you to be my disciple but you refused it."

"WHAT?" Arjuna exclaimed.

"Yes. Guru Parashuram wanted to take Vasusena as his disciple." Devavrata said softly. "He threw that on my master's face and made him cry."

"I gave reasons for my refusal. Didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Have I given you even a single invalid reason for my refusal?"

"No."

"Commander Bhisma stated that because of my hatred I insulted you. Have I insulted you in hate, Sage Parashuram?"

"No."

"So what are the reason for your tears then?"

"Your words when you gave me your reasons hurt me, Vasusena." He stated softly.

"Till today have I uttered any lie to you, Sage Parashuram? Remember Sage Parashuram till today have I uttered any lie to you?"

"No."

"I ask your forgiveness if my words hurt you, Sage Parashuram. But now I ask the court, I haven't lied to the Sage till today. I haven't insulted him and yet I was nearly killed for speaking the truth. Prime Minister Vidhura... I asked all the questions I wanted to. So now please pass your judgment."

"Vidura has acquitted him of all crimes. And I had to seek forgiveness from a child who hurt my master. The fool has gall to ask me to stay out of his business as my penance." Devavrata growled. "When I tried to ask my master the reason Vasusena refused his tutelage did you know the reason that imbecile gave to  Guru Parashuram?"

"What did he say?"

"He said to Guru Parashuram that taking tutelage under him is akin to a goat trusting a butcher."

Arjuna doesn't know how many shocks he can take anymore.

In his previous life Karna held Guru Parshuram on a pedestal. Even after receiving a curse from him, he respected him a lot. Whatever happened to the Karna of this time one thing was certain. The world has gone mad. There's no other reasonable explanation for all this madness.

Too used to Bhima's loud snores, no one heard or cared about his screams of frustration that night.

The world made sense again when he saw his cousin, Suyodhana and Karna being friendly towards each other. Well... At least this seems consistent in any world.

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, in the ancient kingdom of Hastinapura, there lived a young warrior named Karna. He was known for his exceptional strength and skills with the bow and arrow. But he gained those skills after he cheated his teacher by lying about his caste. When the deception was revealed, his teacher, in his great wrath cursed him, laying the foundation for his eventual death. This is a story well-known to anyone who heard his story.

However, in this story, the past was unwritten and the ink flowed back into the pot. This Karna came back from death and turned to a changed man. For if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.

This is a conversation between him and his master about his previous life. The questions asked by a student to his master, changed everything.

After a day of light training, Radheya and Adhriratha returned home in the afternoon to see the children in their family hurriedly cleaning the house and arranging everything in an order. A bit perplexed both of them walked into the kitchen where Radha was cooking kheer.

"Radha..."  Adhiratha called softly. "...are we expecting guests today?"

"No pati... Sage Parashuram sent one of his students to announce his arrival to our home. He will be coming in three hours." Radha replied excitedly. "Can you imagine a Vishnu avatar coming to our home, pati." She fluttered around adding sugar to the kheer smiling happily. Adhiratha spirits were raised at those words. "Everything has to be perfect. Vasu, go help your brothers in setting up the table. There should be no mistakes today. Can bring some supplies, pati?" None of them saw the anguish in the eyes of their eldest.

The quaint hamlet was spotless by the time of Sage Parashuram's arrival. The Chiranjeevi and the only Vishnu avatar who co-existed with other avatars came alone without any of his disciples. He was garlanded by the elders of the house and was given the best room in the house. Sage Parashuram chose Vasusena to serve him for the duration of his visit.

The entire day has passed and the sage has spent the night relaxing in the house. The sage then stated that he wanted to take a walk in the nearby forest and Radheya accompanied him. The sun was high in the sky, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.

"Karna..." Sage Parashuram called when there are no people around them.

"It has been nearly six years since I have heard that name, Sage Parashuram." Radheya smiled wanly. "So may I know the reason you are here?"

There was a silence following that blunt statement. "I thought after that day, I would never see or hear of you again, Sage Parashuram. You did deny knowing me all the time." He exhaled warily. "So, which curse have the great sage come to my home to bestow upon me now?"

"I came here to make you my disciple."

Vasusena was surprised at the answer and stood dumbfounded for a few moments. A few moments later, he burst into laughter to the point where he had to steady himself against a tree to avoid falling.

"I never thought you were capable of making a joke, Sage Parashuram." He stated holding his sides to control his laughter. On seeing the serious look on the face of the great sage he sobered up.

"You are not joking?" After getting out of shock he started to laugh again. "Oh god!! You really are not joking." This time he rolled on the forest floor unable to control his laughter

"I fail to see humor in this Karna."

"You do know that in this life, I already have a master, right?" He stated.

"And he himself said that your education was incomplete and he would send you a teacher to complete your education, didn't he?"

"And he sent you?" Karna questioned skeptically. "Is this supposed to be funny? If it is I certainly do not find humor in this."

Sage Parashuram's face reddened in rage. "What exactly do you think is humorous in me being your teacher, Karna? If you remember I was your Guru in your previous life."

"You are the one who said a teacher-student relationship should be based on trust, Sage Parashuram." Karna stated bluntly. "You'll always regard me as a cheat and I really cannot trust you. In my previous life, I regarded education as merely an extension of my ego, learning with only half-hearted effort. Unfortunately, this approach proved costly, leading to the loss of my life. In this current life, I am approaching education with a much more serious and committed mindset. I cannot have a master who does not trust me and whom I cannot trust.

I give you my sincere apologies. You have taken a long journey from Parashurama Kshetra to here. I'll ask my master to send me another teacher to complete my education. If he send me another teacher, I'll complete my education. If not, my education will have to remain incomplete."

"You'll rather have your education be incomplete than be taught by me?" Sage Parashuram asked, anger masking the hurt in his tone.

"Yes..." was the unrepentant reply.

"As I have stated before, in your previous life you were my student, Karna. You even cheated me so that you could learn from me." was the reminder.

"And I got punished for learning under you with my life. Pardon me because I'm not willing to die like a dog again." was the flippant answer.

Sage Parashuram's eyes reddened. "You are the one who came to me to learn. You are the one who cheated me by saying you are a Brahmin. You very well know that I never refused to teach any student based on their caste and yet you lied to me. You lied to me because you wanted to learn Brahmastra. I cursed you because you broke my trust. Even then, after my anger had abated, I was the one who gave you one of your greatest weapons, the Vijaya Dhanush that was used by the King of Gods, Indra himself." His voice didn't raise but the wrath in that tone can be clearly heard. "I cared for you, taught you and nurtured you. Your curses you have received are the consequence of your misdeeds."

The mortal child of the Sun God didn't speak for several moments. "I wonder how I will be remembered in history." he started softly. The change in the topic startled the sage a bit. "A scammer who cheated his teacher who is the representative of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. A fraud who boasted of being the greatest archer in the world but ran away several times from battle. An oath breaker who was unable to fulfill his promise to his friend even after the said friend made him to be who he is. History, after all, is written by victors."

"What nonsense are you speaking?"

Radheya smiled but there is no humor in it. "Can I ask you a question, Sage Parashuram? It's actually about that day you cursed me."

A sense of foreboding that something is very wrong came to the Chiranjeevi yet he consented the question.

"On that day when Dansa burrowed in my thigh, my entire dhoti got soaked with blood. Tell me why Sage Parashuram..." the smile turned cold. "...tell me why your first action after you pulled out that mite, is to question how was I able to bear the pain so long? Usually people when they see other person bleeding before them, their first action is to treat it before asking questions. Their first emotion is to feel happiness that a person is willing to suffer for them without expecting anything in return."

"Oddly, Sage Parashuram, your first action is to question me, disregarding my well-being. And even more odd is that your first emotion is wrath. May I know why?"

The sage was silent for several moments. "There is only one explanation for this. You already knew that I lied about being a Brahmin, didn't you?" Radheya stated and smiled grimly. "I'm asking you Sage Parashuram, did you or did you not know?"

"Yes..." The sage stated softly his anger being replaced by guilt. "I knew."

"When did you know I lied about being a Brahmin?"

"On the very day you came to me to learn under me... I know you are not a Brahmin."

"You are an incarnation of Vishnu... of course you knew that I was lying the very first day I set foot in Parashurama Kshethram. At least your disciple, Drona has decency enough to chase me off for daring to set foot in his ashram. Even if I was talked about after my death, people won't remember that the teacher already knew his student's lie. People won't speak about the student who served his teacher with all of his mind, body and soul.

I will be shown as a warning for generations of children to come not to reach above their station." Tears started to form in his eyes. "In future when a suta child wanted to be a warrior, she'll tell the child 'arre beta, iss maarg me thum shaapith ho gaye.' And she will point to me as an example"

"Karna..."

"You said I am a cheater right, Sage Parashuram. Then why didn't you chase me off the very first day I walked into your ashram?" He blinked back tears. "Why?"

The sage was silent in face of all accusations. Tears started falling down his face. "Like a child that loved his mother, I loved you. Like a son that believed his father, I trusted you. You asked me why I'd rather have my education be incomplete than be taught by you, Sage Parashuram. because I would never trust a Vishnu avatar to be impartial to me. Because you blinded yourself to my love and laid foundation to my death. A death at the hands of my brother, hearing all the misdeeds I have committed in my life, without a weapon in my hand, and put down like a mad dog."

"Vasusena...it's not like that child."

"It's your duty as a Vishnu avatar to do so. Please show decency not to lie to your victim. I'm not expecting respect in this life like I did in my previous life. I'm just expecting common decency. You said you gave me my most powerful weapon. Do you know what the education I have received from you? It's exactly like the gift you gave me. The Vijaya Dhanush. You gave me the bow and took away the arrows. You gave me the education I have craved for but when I needed it the most it slipped away like sand in between fingertips. You didn't give me that weapon not out of love, Sage Parashuram. You gave it to me because you felt guilty.

So tell me, Sage Parashuram, when I came to you begging for education what was my sin? You said that due to my misdeeds I was cursed, didn't you?"  He clenched and unclenched his hands. "I would really really really be happy if it were the case."

Leaning back on a tree he continued. "Let's talk about my curses. I received my first curse from you. Oddly enough even that was struck between a rock and hard place situation. If I had woken you up, I would have been cursed without a question. Because you have decided to do so. Is it not, Sage Parashuram?" He asked softly. The sage nodded. "An unfair curse engineered by you."

"Let's come to my second curse." He exhaled. "I saw a tiger trying to kill a cow that belonged to a poor brahmin. At that time I didn't know it was an illusion by Indra. So I released my arrow and when the illusion disappeared, it hit the cow and it died. Even this curse was me being struck between rock and hard place." He scoffed. "If I didn't try to kill the tiger, I'd have been cursed by a brahmin because Lord Indra would have made the illusion real. Hell I even offered to compensate for that cow and perform any penance he wanted me to do. And yet only my death would satisfy his blood thirst, it seems. Brahmins are supposed to be peaceful aren't they? Why do I always get the ones who wanted me dead? Why Sage Parashuram? I really want to know that answer." he mocked.

"My final curse... I never thought I would hope at least once in my life I get cursed for doing something wrong." He barked out a laugh so hollow that Parashuram felt someone had squeezed his heart. "In this I was not struck in a rock and hard place but I was cursed for a reason that would be ridiculous if not for the fact that it led to my death. What again is it, Sage Parashuram?"

"Once upon a time, there was a small girl carrying a bowl of ghee to her stepmother. In an unfortunate turn of events, she accidentally spilled the precious ghee on the ground. Fearful of her mother's scolding, she stood there, distressed. That was when you came and decided to help that little girl. With powerful incantations, you invoked the Earth itself to yield ghee. However, this act of kindness came at a cost. Feeling the pain caused by your actions, Mother Earth couldn't ignore the disturbance. In response, she cursed you. The curse foretold that when you are most vulnerable, she would abandon you." Sage Parashuram spoke swallowing his tears

"Farmers till the land every season. Miners drill the earth for gold and gems. Potters crush clay under their feet everyday and burn it to create pots and I can give many other examples. Bhoomatha, whose very name means the mother who endures, felt that my actions were too painful for her? And for that I got cursed? Like I said, I would have laughed if it didn't lead to my death. Tell me is this even a good reason for a man to be cursed?"

"I have no answers for these Karna."

"If I am to be cursed, let me be cursed because I blinded myself to dharma for the sake of my friendship. If I am to be cursed, let me cursed because I didn't protect the princess of Panchaal during the dice game. Let me be cursed because I insulted her. Let me be cursed because I broke the laws of war and killed Abhimanyu unlawfully. Let me be cursed because even though I know my friend is walking the path of adharma... I didn't deter him. I'm talking to Vishnu in you now Sage Parashuram. Why curse me when I'm trying to do the right thing? Why?"

The sage was silent again. "Because you wanted to draw a clear line between the right side and wrong side. You wanted the Pandavas to be completely right and us to be completely wrong. In future I would be shown as an evil person who tried to wash off his sins by doing good deeds."

"'So be it then.' I thought at that time. But for you avatars just cursing me is not enough?" He sneered. "With all of these curses, you have symbolically broken all my limbs. I never sent anyone from my home empty-handed. Even that was taken advantage of.  I really can't complain about it though. I got Vasavi Shakti for those kavach and kundal."

"Even during the war I was being cheated this time courtesy of Vishnu's final avatar. Can you believe it? Manipulations upon manipulations. I thought I had some form of memory loss, you know when I forgot my greatest weapon during my battles with Phalguna. Turns out that Vasudev Krishna was using his supernatural powers to manipulate my mind and make me forget about using the Shakti Astra before my fight with Ghatotkacha. There are several other unlawful things we have done and they have done. If we are to debate everything, it would take a really long time though.

These days... I'm really sorry to say this but these days I find it difficult to trust any of my Vishnu avatars, Sage Parashuram."

"History might remember me as a fraud, a scammer and a boastful man. Let me be known that way I really have no issues. I have been called worse. But Sage Parashuram... what will not go into history books is that you conspired and wrote a death sentence against a child who loved and respected you deeply.

I maybe a cheater, and I will gladly accept my punishment when I reach Naraka, but you ask your conscience. Ask your conscience what you exactly are. Learning under you for my first time... it's like a sheep trusting a butcher. I won't make that mistake twice. Because I may be many things... but a fool is not one of them."

"My mother will be waiting for us. If you want to curse me... I'm giving you an opportunity. I have insulted you. Whatever curse you want to give me give it and be done, if that's what you wish. All is ask of you is to let her complete her service to you. She and my family except me are innocent in this." He folded his hands and bowed his head. 

Blinking back tears, Sage Parashuram accepted all the services given to him by Radha. On leaving the house he broke down into tears. Because a person who took part in the death of a child who trusted him is a traitor.

Chapter Text

"The friendship between Prince Suyodhan and the son of the head charioteer is one of the oddest developments I have seen as the maid to Prince Suyodhan, Prince Arjuna." Sughandha said when enquired about Vasusena by the third child of Prince Pandu. "Odd because the Prince doesn't care about rules, easily gets jealous and is extremely hot-tempered. Radheya, on other hand was by the book kind of person who doesn't break rules , doesn't give shit about others, cold-blooded but does not get angered easily. The only similarities both have in common is that both are extremely arrogant and disrespectful. It actually shocked everyone in the palace that both could be friends due to the Prince's jealousy and Vasusena's... well everything."

"The story goes like this..." she started "Radheya, seven years ago, was one of the rising stars in the army. A child of eleven who defeated several soldiers above his age and the only person who managed to complete the army training in less than a year. He was the prime target of gossip in the kitchen for his handsome looks. How on earth did Adhiratha and Radha produce such a handsome looking child she would never know and despite being one year her junior Vasusena made my heart skip. It was same with several dasis around her age.

With long lotus petal-shaped eyes, sharp nose, skin that has radiance like the sun and a calm neutral smile, he was considered to be more handsome than everyone in Hastinapur"

"He's not that handsome." Prince Arjuna grumbled and the maid hid a smile at the childish reply of the Prince.

"Maybe not as handsome as you and Princes Nakula and Sahadeva but he is very handsome nonetheless my Prince.

Whenever he was training, there are several dasis who stopped their works to spy on him and he was that beautiful when he was one and ten years. He then disappeared for four years citing that he wanted to train under a guru. When he returned to the army at five and ten years of age, his admirers grew exponentially in numbers. Because if he can be called beautiful at one and ten years, he's gorgeous at five and ten years.

But all of his admirers' admiration died a sudden death after his altercation with Mahamahim Bhisma. He's a fairly distant child, who never formed friendships with anyone in the army but no one knew how obstinate he is until he made Mahaamahim Bhishma to apologize to him in front of the entire army of Hastinapur. Do you know about that story Prince Arjun?"

"Yes..." he replied. "Pitamah Bhishma himself told me that story.

"That incident made him and his entire family outcasts in Hastinapur." She stated. "Prices were raised targeting the family and no one even allowed that family into their social circle. Merchants of Hastinapur banned them from purchasing their wares and the family even stopped going to temples."

"They don't have the right to do that." The little Prince exclaimed. "The only person who did wrong in that family is Vasusena. Why did his family have to suffer...." He trailed off.

"Mahamaahim Bhishma was a respected elder in Hasthinapur, Prince Arjuna." The dasi said smiling indulgently. "So the fact that a child whose entire lifespan is not even equal to half the experience of Mahaamahim Bhishma made several soldiers and families mad. So their mistreatment has begun."

"Among the family the ones who got it the worst was Adhiratha and Radheya. The rest of the family stopped coming out of their home but the father and son have duties to the army of Hasthinapur. They still fell under the employ of Army of Hastinapur and has to bear sneers and insults. Adhiratha stopped Vasusena from attending the army so that he would not feel hostility among the army by citing that hes' too young to be in the army. But all was for naught when he fell gravely ill, unable to bear the emotional toll of facing the humiliations.

There were rumors that even the doctors refused to treat Adhiratha and even medicines were not sold to that family. So by the law of the land... Vasusena as the eldest son became the Head Charioteer of the division after his father as Adhiratha failed to recover. "

"Does Pitamah Bhishma know about the treatment done to that family." Prince Arjuna asked in anguish. "I don't see him tolerating anyone doing this in his name."

"Adhiratha was a non-confrontational person. He always bowed down to sneers and insults. Vasusena... looked unaffected by anything that was said to him. Most of the time he didn't even care about the insults thrown at him.  As for our knowledge, Mahaamaahim Bhishma never knew what the family went through." She confirmed

"But the entire situation changed after Radheya became the Head Charioteer of the Samudra division.

When he became the Head Charioteer, there was a lot of gossip in the kitchens. There were bets made about how many days will the arrogant child will stay in the position of Head Charioteer. There was a bet that the boy would break down in less than a month and thats' the highest amount of time predicted. "

"He's still here though."

"Yeah... the boy lived to break expectations. The first day for Radheya to take up his duties as a Head Charoioteer has arrived and half of the palace have assembled to witness the boy's humiliation. Do you want to know what happened on that day Prince Arjuna?" On seeing him nod she continued. "It was an unforgettable day that still haunts my nightmares, Prince Arjuna. The boy is a rakhshasha. Radha might insist that Gods have given her a son as a result of her prayers but she must have mistakenly  prayed to a rakhshasha and got this child. There's no other explanation for it."

The day started with a lot of anticipation around the palace. Most of the people completed their duties and scattered around the training grounds.  The boy completed the formalities for the transfer of power around afternoon and walked into the training grounds without a care in the world. The soldiers of the division which he is instilled as the Head Charioteer were lazing around in a corner.

"Where is the division Samudra? " He asked the servant beside her on that fateful day. His voice held no nervousness and was calm and soothing.

When he was shown where his to be soldiers are, Radheya thanked them and went to greet his division.

"Greetings to you all. From today onwards, I am the Head Charioteer of this division." The soldiers didn't even bother to greet him. The boy shrugged not bothered that much.

"This boy is going to be our Head Charioteer it seems. Go suck your... " The rest of the words are not suited for polite company. The man beside him sniggered.

Radheya didn't lose his smile. "Glad you spoke up... Vinay is your name, right? And you are Vardha aren't you?" He clicked his tongue. "Both of you come up. Fight each other without weapons. I need to gauge your capabilities. That's an order."

The reply was less than polite. But the crowd, including her at that time, laughed at those words.

"You do know that what you are doing is insubordination right? " He asked neutrally.

"So what. You will go home and complain to that bed ridden fool you call father?" Vardha sneered.

"You do know that insubordination is a punishable offense, right? During war time punishment for insubordination was death... Do you know that?" The tone didn't change even a bit.

"Come and clean my piss. And I may listen to you."  Vinay brayed. The soldiers around him laughed. Sughandha too hid a smile with several other dasis. Serves the idiot right for insulting their divine commander.

"This is the final time I'll order you." Vasusena stated calm even in face of all insults. None of them expected it to be a calm before the storm.

"And what will you do if we disobey? " Vardha drew himself to his full height but seeing as he's nearly a foot smaller than Vasusena the intimidation fell short.

"So be it."  Radheya smiled and without a single warning the right hands of Vinay and Vardha are chopped off at wrists.

The entire assembled soldiers and servants fell silent stood in shock. There was a pin-drop silence which was broken after a few moments whenVinay and Vardha started screaming in pain. Several dasis and servants fainted around her. No one even saw when Radheya drew his sword, let alone chop off their wrists. One of the servants ran out of the place towards the palace.

"What!!!" Phalguna exclaimed.

"Yeah... Just for disobeying orders, Radheya chopped off the right wrists of soldiers on the very first day itself." Sughandha stated softly.

"Division Samudra... Formation Diamond." The monster in human flesh ordered disregarding the screams of two soldiers he mutilated. He carried on calmly as if he didn't chop off the wrists of two soldiers just for disobeying his orders. Seeing none of them followed the orders frozen in fear, he turned slow and deliberately towards the soldiers making their hearts jump in fear. "Will you follow the command or do I need to teach you the same lesson as these guys." The entire group scrambled around and stood in formation in less than a minute.

"What on earth are you doing? " Mahaamahim Bhishma came roaring into the training grounds. "By gods, stop staring and get a doctor for these guys. "

"Isn't your penance to keep your nose out of my business, Commander Bhishma? " Vasusena interrupted his voice going cold for the first time.

"You cannot kill everyone who insults you, Vasusena." He roared. "This is a gross abuse of power."

"Do you really want to do this again, Commander Bhishma? I always do everything by the book." He smiled coldly. "Still you are my Commander and I have to answer to you, I believe. What is the punishment for insubordination? "

Bhishma's eyes grew cold. "Death during war-time. During times of peace, it depends on the commanding officer. The common punishment is chopping off two limbs after three transgressions and any other punishment they deem fit. There is no need for trial but the officer should give an explanation to his higher officer."

"You... " He called one of the soldiers. "Relay to Commander Bhishma what happened today."

When the soldier explained whatever happened, Mahaamahim Bhishma gritted his teeth. Vasusena smiled menacingly. The smile sent chills down the spine of all people present. They came here expecting humiliation but are now witnesses to an execution.

"The punishment is removal of two limbs right. " He then cut off one of their legs at knees. "Go to the doctor." He said not even bothered a bit by their renewed screams. Turning towards others he ordered "None of you are allowed to help them. " He stated cruelly. "Because anyone stopping the punishment will receive the same punishment as them"

Both Varadha and Vinay bled to death before reaching the medical tent. There was a trail of blood from the training grounds to the medical tent as both the soldiers crawled dripping blood all over the place. Seeing two men dying that brutally injected fear into the hearts of people watching it.

"How on earth did Pitamah Bhishma not stop him? That seems...."

"Excessively cruel... yes. But by the law, Radheya stated that he could do so." She said softly. "Radheya memorized every rule set upon the army and worked within the law. Because however brutal it might be, the law is final. He then started exploiting the rules for his benefit."

"Alanka... " He walked towards the treasurer of the army who turned pale when the boy turned his attention towards him. '"I heard that budget cuts has been done to Division Samudra, so my father haven't been paid for last four months. Can I see the decree? "

The man pissed himself in fear. Adhiratha might be a meek sheep who bowed his head in face of scorn. But his son is a completely different beast. He's a silent tiger who tears off your limbs after biding for time. "I.. That" He stuttered.

"No budget cuts have been decreed for the army. " Mahaamahim Bhishma glared at the rat faced man.

"Commander Bhishma... This is my problem and I can handle it by myself. Please leave. " Even though it was stated as a request, the tone in which he said it was clearly an order. "Stay out of my business, please." He left soon after that.

"Embezzlement of army funds is a crime punishable by death and seizure of all assets you own by the state. Do you know that.... Alanka?" Vasusena's calm smile was marred by blood of the insubordinate soldiers. He cleaned his blood stained sword with the angavastra of the rat faced man and patted his cheek condescendingly. "You are not foolish enough to do that, right?"

"No... Vasusena." Alanka croaked out.

"Then I expect my father's salary by this evening."  He stated smiling at the man. It was not a nice smile. "Or by tomorrow I'll have you fed alive to the vultures."

That was the last day anyone dared to cross that child. Insult him to his face, he would laugh with you unless you mention his parents. But disobey any order, the consequences will be severe.

He was an extremely efficient but ruthless officer.  He might have gained respect from the soldiers but never gained love from them. Most of the time he was a loner and stayed far away from parties and other bonding activities in the army.

Their division was given orders to hunt for bandits, cruel beasts and sometimes even rakshashas, by higher officials despite not being their job to do so. To any soldier being sent to Samudra division was supposed to be a suicide. The most dangerous jobs always went to Samudra Division and it was assigned with an intent of killing off that boy.

But those tasks given to kill the boy were successfully completed and it only made him and the division of soldiers richer. Because those tasks should never be allocated to sutas, the pay he got was very high. With that money, Radheya started trading with merchants outside Hasthinapur for the needs of his house.  However Radheya never took his division with him whenever they were sent to hunt rakshashas and usually completed those tasks by himself.

He always made back nary a scratch on his body, further cementing his reputation as an extremely dangerous soldier. During practice drills, he participated only those mandatory for him. But during those drills and mock fights, he gained a reputation as the most skilled soldier in all forms of combat. As it is said 'If you want to see if your rice is done, one grain is enough.'. And watching his skills during the mock fights is enough to say that he's far above the skill of any normal soldiers.

Division Samudra gained infamy for completing dangerous jobs no other people would take on.

"Radheya with the money he earned from his jobs bought a large field near his house just on the outskirts of Hasthinapur in less than three months after he became Head Charioteer.. No one dared to fleece him or inflate prices again but he made his home self-sufficient, Prince Arjun. He built a house for his parents and it has been a year since any of the residents other than Vasusena have been seen outside that place." Sughandha said. "He usually after his work goes straight home and works in that field. Anything they needed but cannot not produce, Radheya purchases them from the visiting merchants. Most of us speculate that Adhiratha might have died because no one would be bed-ridden for this long amount of time without support from a doctor."

"So no one even visited the old Head Charioteer when he's bed-ridden"

"Considering that most of them have a hand in his condition... none of Adhiratha's co-workers visited him." Sughandha sighed. "The rest of them, well... they were deterred by traps around that place."

"Traps?"

"Radheya placed iron fences around his new home and the field. The place was close to the river so irrigation was not much of a problem for them. And the entire pathway to that place is filled with traps. Not enough to kill but enough to deter anyone from visiting the place. Radha herself closed off and broke friendships and relationships she had. Only people who go there are curious children and tax-collectors."

"So the entire family lives like outcasts in society." Sughandha simply nodded at the statement. "That cannot be healthy."

"The entire family is self-sufficient. The anger the populace had with Radheya might have lessened but the family never forgot the treatment they faced from the society. As Vasusena received training from the  army,  he is bound to serve in the army for a minimum of ten years. Adhiratha never sent any of his other children to the army for training or service. We think after Vasusena's term is over, after their obligations have been complete... the entire family is planning to leave Hasthinapur."

"So how on earth did Prince Suyodhana and this outcast become friends?"

"Oddly enough they became friends very easily. Vasusena was Prince Suyodhana's bodyguard only for a week and a month later the Prince has declared that a child of six and ten years will be his teacher in Mala Yudh."

Guarding the Crown Prince might be considered an honor in any other kingdom, but in Hastinapur... it was a nightmare duty. Prince Suyodhan was a mulish child prone to tantrums and no one really wanted to be on the wrong side of the boy. So most of the time, the guard duty went to Samudra division.

Radheya initially refused to take up the guard duty so for most of the time, the soldiers under him took the posts expecting an easy job. None of them lasted more than a day. So finally he stood guard to the Crown Prince, not before threatening his superior that if he found that the lots had been rigged against Division Samudra there will be hell to pay.

The little prince held the pigeon in his hands, stroking its head, studying the shades of pink & blue shining at its neck. The pigeon seemed finally ready to test its injured wing. Setting it down he waited for it to take flight & soar towards the skies. The bird turned its neck, looked at the boy, cooed softly, trotted about a little before spreading its wings. First slowly, then with a little more confidence the bird started to leave the ground behind. But the bird must have misjudged its strength for it soon started falling down again. Unable to control its fall, it fluttered its wings in panic. The prince leaped forward, catching the bird in his palm just when it would have hit the ground.

Prince Suyodhan had found the bird gravely injured in the Royal Gardens. Crows had gathered around the bird waiting for it to die so they could begin their feast. But Suyodhan had driven them away. He had picked up the tiny thing & ran up to the Royal Vaidya. The man had tried to make the Prince understand that he treated humans and knew little about birds. But the stubborn Prince wouldn’t take no for an answer. Finally the Vaidya had given the Prince a paste to apply to the wounds, instructing him on how to take care of his winged friend. That had been weeks ago.

Over the weeks as Suyodhan had nursed the little thing back to health, he had grown fond of it. He had decided he would make it his pet. He would feed it, nurse it back to health & train it. Hence it broke his heart to see the bird in pain once again. He started running towards the Vaidya's house.The Vadiya had a set of rooms assigned for his family & him near the royal palace. Now the man was home, watching his wife coax his daughter Laxmi to finish her meal quickly. He smiled as Laxmi insisted on another story.

“Tell me the story of the Prince who brayed like a donkey.”

“Laxmi!”

Both mother & daughter were startled by his raised voice. Looking angrily at his wife he said, “How many times must I tell you not to repeat such lies. Don’t you understand how dangerous it could be if someone overhears you? Or if she tells this story to someone else?”

His wife, seeing an easy way to get her daughter to finish her meal finally, ignored her husband & began telling the tale she had already told the child many times.  For some reason it was her daughter’s favorite. In all the commotion that had ensued since Laxmi’s request she had missed the arrival of the Prince who now stood quietly behind the open door, rigid, as if struck by thunder.

“Long ago, in a far away Kingdom was a great King. His Queen was expecting their first child. She waited patiently for months, for the day when she would hold her bundle of joy in her hands. Months soon turned into years & the Queen’s anxiety grew. Her child, stubborn & stupid, refused to be born. One day in anger & desperation the Queen cut her baby out. As the midwives attended to the bleeding Queen, the mass of flesh which had been her child was discarded. Much to the horror of the people, that very night, vultures descended on the city in great numbers. Wolves howled & amongst all the racket they could hear the steady braying of a donkey.”

By now the little girl had started giggling uncontrollably. Her mother often told her stories of Gods & demons but this was ridiculous to fool even a little girl like her. She always knew her mother was making this all up as she went.

“The wise minister of the King commanded that the animals be driven away. Extremely terrified were the royals that not one of them dared come out and investigate the strange happenings. Sheets of rain fell, accompanied by thunder & lightening. The animals continued wrecking havoc with everyone’s senses. And through all this a single donkey brayed. Finally the animals stopped their screaming & the rains seemed to have abated. Everything was still for a moment. There was a loud knock on the doors of the royal chambers. The Queen almost leapt out of her skin.”

“The minister was standing at the door. The King himself ushered him in. Much to the chagrin of the royal couple the braying started again.”

“Have you brought a donkey inside the palace you fool?,” thundered the angry Queen.

“No Maharani. It is just a little child”

The little prince, instead of becoming angry, bowed his head, placed the pigeon he's holding on one of the benches, bowed his head so that no one would see his tears. But for the first time, the guard who followed him spoke up.

"Pray tell me Vaidya... who the Prince in this story is?" The steel in the voice of Radheya chilled the spines of everyone present. The Vaidya and his wife then noticed the Crown Prince who was standing there with tears in his eyes.

"My Prince...Please pardon us. I didn't see you here." the doctor begged.

"I think my guard has asked you a question Vaidya." Prince Suyodhana stated softly.

"My Prince it is just a story..." The healer's wife begged prostrating herself at his feet. "Please don't take it to heart."

"Sughandha...take the Prince away." Radheya stated.  She hastily took the crying prince back to his chambers.

"Did this actually happen?" Arjuna asked in a shocked tone.

"So many times, Prince Arjuna." The maid stated softly. "It was the first time anyone got punished though."

"What are you saying?"

"Prince Suyodhana was not liked by the court, Prince Arjuna. Most of the court thought that as Prince Yudhishthira was the firstborn in Kuru Vansh... he must be the Crown Prince. Whenever the Prince complained about incidents like these before, it was dismissed out of hand as a fanciful tale." Sughandha sighed.

"Our father may love me but Pitamah Bheesma, Kripacharya and the court do not like me too much. I am a dirt-born child and ill omen in their eyes. Whatever good qualities I have... all will be nothing in their eyes as I am born under the wrong horoscope.  If Pandavas beat us black and blue, they'll tell us to suck up. If we retaliate we will be adharmi in their eyes. Don't give them even more ammunition against us. Just be on your best behavior."

Suyodhana said these words to his brothers when Arjuna spied on him. He never thought those words to be true till then. No wonder why Suyodhana hated him and his brothers in his previous life. It didn't absolve him of his wrong doings but living with scorn all his life will make a person a bit twisted.

"This time though... Radheya had the woman's tongue cut off. One glare from that boy was enough to intimidate her into admitting that the tale was about Prince Suyodhana. He personally had cut off her tongue for daring to spread slander against a Prince of Kingdom. The child still hates him for cutting off her mother's tongue."

"So Radheya was the first person who showed my cousin kindness. So that's how they became friends."

"Not exactly, Prince Arjuna." A smooth velvety voice spoke behind them both. So engrossed in that story, Arjuna didn't notice Karna approaching him. "Sugandha... it is time for Prince's lunch. Why hasn't it been served to him on schedule? And Prince Arjuna, your brothers Princes Nakula and Sahadeva have been searching for you since the last hour. They told me to inform you that your brother Prince Bhimasen has eaten your portion of food."

The maid scampered off leaving the children of gods behind. "I asked the servants in the kitchen to prepare another portion for you, Prince Arjuna. It will be delivered to your room soon. If your brother's hunger is not satiated and have polished off that portion too, inform one of the guards and they will bring another portion for both of you."

"Wait..."Phalguna ordered. "How did you two become friends?"

"When I first met Prince Suyodhana... he is a small cute child. He was gently cradling a pigeon in his hands, trying in vain to save its life when everyone said that it was going to die. The poor thing died a month after though." Radheya said softly. "He cried so badly in his chambers and became nearly inconsolable. Forgive me for overstepping my bounds but... your elders said that he is the blight on Kuru Vansh just because he was born under the wrong horoscope. An innocent child who cried for the life of a bird will bring destruction to Hasthinapur? And their bias against him turned the entire palace against him and his brothers."

"He might do something that may cause Hasthinapur's fall in future." Arjuna stated but even it sounded lame to his ears.

Karna threw his head back and laughed, shocking the prince who didn't expect that. "Do you know he hated me for cutting off that woman's tongue?"

Arjuna stood dumbfounded. "Yes...he hated me for cutting off that woman's tongue. He thought that I was a sycophant trying to rise above my station by gaining his favor." Karna snorted. "I was just doing my duty though. The next seven days he got on my nerves, irritating me like none other could. On the day when it's time for the next rotation, he asked what I wanted for mutilating a woman in his name. My temper was already frayed at edges at that time so yeah... I said a few choice words to him."

"Oh..."

"Funny part is that no one reprimanded me. No one cared that I cussed out the Prince of a Kingdom who is just a child and just being a child. Feeling guilty at my actions, I went to beg him for forgiveness. The little prince looked shell-shocked that someone cared about his feelings to ask his pardon." Karna smiled wanly. "He was actually shocked that someone came to his defense."

This was so different from Suyodhana he knew. What the hell happened to this world?

The prince then requested me to be one of his personal guards. "I think he grew fond of me during that time. There was a conversation between us that made the prince warm up to me even more but even though he's a bit of a brat, I really like him. He reminds me of my brother, Shon."

"Your brother who died because he heard the scriptures." Karna nodded.

"I really cannot tell you the conversation as it is private between us... So anyway you are late for your lunch, Prince Arjuna. Apologies for keeping you from your meal. I'll take my leave."

Mother Kunti stopped him from tearing his hair off from roots in frustration on that day. He really want the world to make sense again.

Chapter Text

Suyodhana started to wonder whether the premonition of life he lived was actually his or not. The first glaring difference, when he came to the past, was the death of his uncle Gandhar Naresh Shakuni.

He never know a time in his previous life when his uncle was not by his side. There is not a single person in his life who supported him, regardless of whatever adharma he committed, except for his uncle. When the sneers of the palace hurt his childish heart, it was his uncle who consoled him in that process. Yes... he does agree that his uncle was one of the reasons why he was such an asshole, but a child who does not know what is right and wrong does not care about that. They only crave love from someone. Hell, his entire perspective of right and wrong have been molded by his uncle.

So when he heard that he died four years ago, even though Gandharraj might be one of the reasons for the downfall of Kuru Vansh... he mourned him in private. He still did not understand why his uncle molded him to be an asshole. Gandharraj was an extremely intelligent person and he knew the effect his actions have on Suyodhana so it's not an fortuitous choice. It was a deliberate one. Suyodhana is missing some, maybe several pieces in this puzzle. And the only person who could answer those questions is dead.

They said that no one knew how he was killed.  He was killed with Brahmastra, they said. There are not many warriors who could wield that astra and yet the killer was not found. Really odd.

'When two people meet...their destinies also meet with them.' It was said. Sahadev told him that he swore to kill his uncle Shakuni because Gandharraj's evil deeds impacted with his (Suyodhan's) destiny and was the cause of Kurukshetra war.  For that reason, Suyodhan thought that it might be Vasudev who might have killed his uncle, before dismissing it entirely. Since when has the great Lord Keshav ever cared about his or his brothers' well-being. Because if he did there would be no war to begin with. Or so many of his brothers would not have died.

The second glaring difference is seen in himself. Both physically and mentally.

Suyodhana, even in his previous life, cannot be called weak in terms of physical strength. He might not have that rakshasha Bhimasen's physique or strength, but he was a strong man and was considered to be one of the best wrestlers of his generation. But at the age of one and ten years in his previous life, he was not this built and graceful as he is now. He was this strong only after two years of training under Guru Drona in his previous life. It seems like he had taken up wrestling even earlier than his previous life and he was shocked to learn who his teacher was.

Mitr Karna... the strongest archer of their generation in his previous life (No he does not care about the fools who might say that Arjuna is the best archer)... reduced himself to cleaning chariots in this life. His armor and earrings which marked him as invincible (till they were defrauded from him) were nowhere to be seen. Suyodhan heard about the brutal death of Karna's little brother for the false ethics these people shroud themselves with and it chilled his heart.

He heard how Karna mutilated himself to remove the armor because in his words what use are those if he cannot save his little brother. Suyodhana, not for the first time in his life cried at the injustice of this all. And these bloody fools have gall to call it dharma.

What use was this dharma when it was so biased to a few and tramples upon the unfortunate. Now no one in this life will never know what a great warrior his friend is. Karna was a brilliant soldier in this life but he will never realize his full potential in this life just because of the society's bloody ethics.

Even their friendship started out differently. And when the memories of how they started to become friends came in... Suyodhan was torn between crying and hysterical laughter. Looks like that both his physical and psychological differences were bought by his previous life's best friend.

During the first three days he was in the past, Suyodhana wondered why none of his brothers are not surprised by his character shift. Because anyone who knew him in his previous life can say he is a Kshatriya to his core and never ceded anything to anyone without a fight. So it should be a shock to his brothers that he is willingly abandoning his title as Crown Prince. But none of them looked remotely shocked by his decision. The surprise that none of his brothers pointed this out triggered the memories of his training with Karna.

In his previous life Karna was just an iconoclast. But in this life, he is a bloody asshole most of the time.

One Year Four months ago

He asked around the palace about Vasusena the day after the guard mutilated a woman in his name. It actually surprised Suyodhana that there was a person even more hated than him by Pitamah Bhishma. It's understandable though. Pitamah revered his teacher and knowing that someone insulted him would incur the wrath of Protector of Hasthinapur.

At that time, he thought that Vasusena was sucking up to him so that he would alleviate the burden on his family. And it angered him a lot.

So the next seven days he unleashed the brat in him trying to piss off the sutaputra. He irritated him as much as he could but Vasusena didn't even have the decency to look irritated at his antics. He never bothered to place a request for transfer out of his position, unlike the previous soldiers. Vasusena's tenacity in the face of his tantrums should be appreciated. So on the seventh day, just before the guard rotation change was implemented, he arrogantly told Radheya he could ask for anything he wanted.

"For what are you giving this favor to me, my Prince?" Radheya tilted his head not unlike a cat.

"When people are given a favor by the Prince, no one in their right mind would ask why they are given the favor." He replied arrogantly.

"Prince Suyodhana... there's no such thing as free lunch in this world." Vasusena replied evenly as if trying to keep his temper in check. "So what are you expecting from me for this favor?"

Suyodhana remembered being confused at those words. "For cutting off the tongue of that woman maybe?" He sneered.

Vasusena stood silent for a few minutes. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, biting his lip. "Five minutes."

"What?"

"For the next five minutes whatever I say should never be held against me, Prince Suyodhana. That is the favor I need from you."

"This is all you want from me?" Vasusena nodded. "Ok go ahead."

It turned out to be a big mistake. Vasusena took the sand glass and turned it down.  The words that came from Vasusena's mouth... Suyodhana learnt more cuss words in those five minutes than his entire life. He never knew that in Hindi there are so many expletives. His ears are ringing at the end of it and true to his word, Vasusena stopped just at the five minute mark.

"Whatever I did... I did it because it's my duty, Prince Suyodhana." He said sternly. "I do not know what kind of soldiers you had before but I am true to my duty. I'm not a sycophant or a lickspittle. I am getting a salary from the army of Hasthinapur for performing my duty. Rewarding me just for doing my duty... I consider that an insult more than anything else." He then left.

The next day, Vasusena came back and apologized for his words. This was the first time in his life that someone apologized to Suyodhana for insulting him. Suyodhana remembered crying and smiling at the same time for the first time in this life.

"By Gods something must be wrong with past me." Gandhari Nandhan thought even though there was a small smile playing on his lips. "If anyone insulted me, I should be holding a grudge against him. I should not be making that person my teacher."

But that was what exactly what his past self did. His past self reasoning is that Karna was considered to be the most skilled soldier after Pitamah Bhishma. And as the Crown Prince he has to learn from the best. So Suyodhana asked him to be his Guru. The answer Karna gave was well...

"Do I look like a Brahmin to you, Prince?" Vasusena questioned, quirking his eyebrows. "Because as far as I know only Brahmins can be called Gurus and only they can teach a Prince."

"But I want you to be my teacher." His past self said stubbornly. "You are considered to be the most skilled soldier in our army. So I want to learn from you."

"Just because I am skilled does not mean that I'll be a good teacher, Prince Suyodhana." Radheya stated bluntly. "It's not like you lack people who want to teach you. So learn from them."

He turned around and walked away. And Suyodhana as a last-resort uttered those words. "I order you to be my guru." He shouted.

Vasusena turned back slowly and then asked in a flat tone. "What?"

"I order you to be my guru." Suyodhana repeated confidently. "You have a track record of never disobeying an order if it is in your power to do so. And if a duty is given to you... you always fulfill it with all your body, mind and soul.  So I, Suyodhana of Kuru Vansh, order you, Vasusena son of Adhiratha and Radha, to be my guru."

Karna accepted to train him reluctantly. But the training he was given was never half-hearted or superficial. From the food he ate to his sleep schedule, everything was prepared with extreme care. It was brutal, but extremely satisfying. Hell even the land they are training in, from the dimensions of the practice yard to the composition of sand in it, is prepared according to the specifications stated by the boy. Karna himself massaged him with oils before and after the training was done.

This was not the work of an amateur.  Pitamah Bhishma and others might not have noticed but... he was an expert wrestler and a mace fighter in his previous life. Karna stated that he didn't learn under Guru Parashuram but the meticulous preparations done shows that Radheya did have a guru who taught him. Because every preparation that was done is similar to what Guru Balaram has done for him and Bhima when they learnt wrestling under his guidance.

Karna stated that he did not learn under Guru Parashuram but he never said that he did not have a guru. That was an axiomatic loophole everyone over looked.

The vazhi (fighting style) taught to him by Karna was something he never encountered in his previous life. Suyodhana knew almost every style trained in Aryavarta but Karna's style is unique from everything he has seen. Even the way he was taught is odd. Usually hand-to-hand is taught first and then weapons are incorporated into the fighting techniques. That is the traditional way. But Vasusena...he started teaching him weapon based techniques for the first two months and then started in hand-to-hand combat. Most of his training is focused on evasion, elegance, jumps, flexibility and exploitation of openings in the guard of the enemy.  

The training might be hell but it bore results. In less than seven months he was able to beat three best wrestlers in the army after Pitamah Bhishma and Karna back-to-back in hand-to-hand combat. He remembered on that day with hope in his heart, he went to Pitamah Bhishma and Vidur Kaka to tell them about his achievement.

"You think wrestling these soldiers means anything." Pitamah Bhishma stated dismissively. "Don't disturb our time with your nonsense again Suyodhana."

Why on earth did he expect something else. Tears appeared in his eyes and he raced back to the training grounds swearing to prove himself so that today his elders would show him respect for his skills.

"VASUSENAAA!!!" He roared as he entered the training grounds searching for the most skilled soldier to defeat. Radheya who was eating his lunch calmly raised his eyes to see the Prince racing towards him.

"I thought today's training is complete Prince Suyodhana." He stated calmly. "So why are you here, again?"

"I challenge you to a duel, Vasusena." The Crown Prince of Hasthinapur brayed in arrogance."I am going to defeat you today."

Vasusena pinched his nose in an irritated manner. "All of you..." He ordered the other soldiers and servants around him. "Leave."

In less than a minute the entire place was empty save for Gandhari Nandan and sutaputra. "We are going outside today for hunting a tiger that's terrorizing the nearby village, Prince Suyodhana. Prepare your weapons and I'll prepare your chariot."

"I asked you to..." The glare Radheya sent him clamped his throat. It was much more effective and terrifying than Pitamah Bhishma. "Meet me at palace gate in an hour, Prince Suyodhana. Don't be late."

An hour later, the Prince and the Charioteer left the palace to the nearby village. After inquiring about the tiger both entered the forest.

They found the tiger they came to hunt after a half an hour of searching for it. Suyodhana  at then time froze in fear looking at the great beast. But Radheya tore in half with his bare hands in less than a minute. Suyodhana's heart jumped to his throat. Foolishly, he dared to challenge this warrior in this morning. Vasusena didn't even break a sweat or receive a scratch. Throwing the corpse of the tiger on the chariot they bought with them, Radheya looked around for a secluded place.

After making sure that there are no people around him, Vasusena sat down at the trunk of a banyan tree and gestured Suyodhana to do the same. Gandhari Nandhan wearily sat down beside the charioteer.

"I'm asking this question as your teacher, Suyodhana. Where did that arrogance come from today?" Radheya stared at him pointedly. "You know very well you cannot defeat me. I was the person who taught you all you know about Mala Yudh. The way you are now, you cannot beat me. So why did you behave that way?"

Radheya never used his authority given to a position of a teacher before.  "I apologize for my conduct." He murmured. "I do not know what came over me."

"I'm not asking for your apologies Suyodhana. You never behaved this way before. So what happened to you, for you to behave this way. As your teacher it is my duty to help you in whatever way I can." Vasusena spoke softly. "I cannot help you if I have no idea on what's troubling you

"It is not something you can solve, Vasusena." Suyodhana started to cry softly. "Hell, no one in Hasthinapur or Aryavartha for that matter can help me."

"Alright then." Vasusena then removed his armor which marked his as the Head Charioteer of Hasthinapur. He removed all the prayer beads, accessories and tails man on his body. "Now Prince Suyodhana, Assume that I'm not a subject to Hasthinapur. I'm a traveler and a foreigner to this land but have basic knowledge about its customs. Call me Aditya."

"What the hell are you doing, Vasusena?" Suyodhana asked flabbergasted at the actions.

"You are the one who said no one in Aryavartha could help you right. So consider me to be an outsider. When I have a problem, I'm not the kind who searches for the solution to the problem first. I search the reason behind the problem. This is me searching for the root of your problem. So for now, my name is not Vasusena little one. I'm Aditya. Now why is a child like you crying today? So what is your problem child?"

Suyodhana couldn't help but to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Still he decided to humor his teacher. "I am crying because my very birth is cursed, Aditya." He said through his watery eyes.

"How so?"

"If you are a traveler, you must have heard the story of a Prince who brayed like a donkey, right?" When Vasusena nodded, Suyodhana continued. "I am the prince in that story."

"Really?" He then pinched his cheeks. "You look adorable. I'm unable to believe that this cute child would cause the destruction of the greatest kingdom in all of Aryavartha."

This is a very different reaction from what Suyodhana usually get. Batting away the hands that are pulling his cheeks, he glared at his master with a blush on his face. "Take this seriously." He growled. "Any other person would hate me and avoid me after knowing this."

Vasusena then put his armor and other accessories back on. "So this is your problem then. You think that everyone hates you."

"Yes... I know that I cannot make anyone love me. I tried and tried all over to gain their love Vasusena. But all is for naught." Gandhari Nandhan wailed. "Because I cannot change the fact that I was a dirt-born child and an ill omen. I thought if I could beat you today, I could be acknowledged by Pitamah Bhishma and Vidhur Kaka. But deep in my heart I know even if I managed to beat you, they will never acknowledge me. My problem does not have a solution, Vasusena."

"Can I ask you how your birth came to be, Suyodhana?" Vasusena turned away from him looking at the sun.

"What?" Suyodhana asked bewildered. "I asked you how your birth came to be?" Radheya repeated

"There are many stories told about my birth, Vasusena." Suyodhana spoke in a reproachful tone. "Surely you must have heard atleast some of them."

"I'm not asking what happened when you were born, Suyodhana." Radheya clarified. "The gap between all your 101 siblings is at most three to four months at most. So how did Queen Gandhari give birth to so many children in a span of three months at most?" When Suyodhana's face grew thunderous in anger, he added. "I'm not trying to poke at old wounds or bad memories Suyodhana. Because no one called you a dirt-born child. You called yourself that.  If I'm not wrong, the answer to why you called yourself a demeaning name is present in that story."

Gandhari Nandhan bowed his head in shame. "You heard the stories, right? My mother, Queen Gandhari, has a prolonged period of pregnancy. She was declared pregnant even before Yudhishthira was even conceived. But even after two years, despite appearing fully pregnant, childbirth was out of reach to her. When Yudhishthira was born, my grandmother Ambika was very disappointed with my mother and spoke harsh words to her. In her grief my mother hit her womb in frustration. This caused a hardened mass of grey-colored flesh to issue from her womb."

"The stories usually say that you came from her womb that way." Radheya stated. "So that part is actually false then."

"Yes. Our birth is even more inauspicious." Suyodhana stated bitterly. "Our mother implored Sage Vyasa, who blessed her saying that she would have hundred sons, to redeem his blessing. Ved Vyasa took the flesh ball and divided it into one hundred and one equal balls. He put each ball in a pot filled with ghee, buried them inside earth. After two years, my pot was opened first and you heard of all the ill-omens that happened during my birth. That's all that happened."

"That explains a lot about your issues Suyodhana. And you must be compared to your cousins who were said to be of divine birth." Radheya stated.

"Do you know many great sages, Pitamah Bhishma and Vidur Kaka advised my parents to abandon the calamity which is about to strike Hasthinapur." He said with teary eyes. "Is it my fault that I was born during a durmuhurtham. All my life... all my life me and my brothers strived to prove that we are not a blight to Hasthinapur. Sometimes I wonder if the death of myself is what it takes for them to love me. Tell me Radheya... tell me what it takes. Tell me what should I do for them to look past the circumstances of my birth?"

Vasusena stood silently for several moments. "Even you do not have the answer to this, do you?" The Crown Prince of Hasthinapur murmured forlornly. "Because unless you can change the circumstances surrounding my birth... my problem does not have a solution and my condition within this kingdom will remain unchanged."

Radheya smiled wryly. "There is no solution to your question because even if you are born during an auspicious time, the elders of Hasthinapur will hate you."

"W-what!!!" Suyodhana shouted in a flabbergasted manner.

Radheya simply nodded. "Prince Suyodhana... you are not hated because you are born during a durmuhurtham. Parameshwar... no. They timed your birth during durmuhurtham so that you'll be the villain in the story of the Pandava Princes. You might think that the elders of Hasthinapur hated you because you were an ill-omen and arrogant child. Let me clarify this, they hated you even before you were born."

"Have you gone mad, Vasusena." Suyodhana screamed in anger. "How dare you insinuate that? I'll give you a chance to take those words back out of respect I have for you. Take those words back or I'll have your tongue removed for treason."

"I accept those charges gladly, my Prince." Vasusena smiled languidly. "But will you give this accused a chance to defend himself?"

"Radheya please... please don't do this." Suyodhana begged him. Looking into the resolute eyes of his friend Suyodhana continued. "I don't need any solution for my problems. Not if it means it harms you."

"For you my Prince... I will gladly accept death. If it means you will be happy, I'll happily accept anything including hell." And for Suyodhana it sounded like an oath. He never knew there's a person other than his parents, who loved him this deeply. "And have I ever lost in an argument, Prince Suyodhana? Why are you so worried about me?"

Despite knowing how intelligent his friend is, Suyodhana felt chills in his heart. Because if the argument is not satisfactory, Radheya himself will cut off his own  tongue. He is that dedicated to his duty. With a heavy heart he declared. "Alright then... defend yourself."

"Is Hasthinapur not the richest kingdom in entirety of Aryavartha, Prince Suyodhana?"

What kind of an insane question is this? "Of course, Hasthinapur is the richest kingdom in Aryavartha."

"This is a blessed kingdom, Prince Suyodhana. You have scholars and priests who are knowledgeable. A King who, despite being blind, was an able ruler. Mahaamahim Bhishma and Prime Minister Vidhur who are erudite in everything. Both the queens are said to be kind and dedicated. And both got a boon from sages themselves due to their virtuous nature." He said without losing the serene smile.

"They even had an unexpected blessing which we will discuss in a few moments. But the issue here is that the children of one queen are cursed and the children of other queen are blessed. One queen's children are born during an auspicious time, the other queen's children during an inauspicious time. One queen's children even though present in the court are hated. And even without seeing them, the children of the other queen are loved. Are any of these statements wrong"

"Radheya yes, all these statements are legit. But get to the bloody point." Suyodhana spoke irritably. "You accused the elders of Hasthinapur by stating that they hated me and my brothers even before we were born. How are all of these statements relevant? "

Vasusena laughed in a rueful manner. "Every question I have asked and every word I have stated are pertinent to the accusation, my Prince. I said that both Kulavadhus of Hasthinapur has an unexpected boon, right?" When Suyodhana nodded he continued. "The unexpected boon for both the queens of Hasthinapur is every parent's dream. The choice to choose the time when their children will be born into this world."

Gandhari Nandhan's eyes widened in shock. "The opening of your pot signifies your birth time, Prince Suyodhana. All your other brothers survived for three more months in those pots. So logically speaking you could have stayed in that pot for at least three more months." The little prince's hands started to shiver in fright.

"My first question is if Hasthinpur is financially rich or not?" Radheya continued with tears filling his eyes. "Is Hasthinapur so poor that it cannot pay a priest to predict an auspicious time? Certainly not.

I also stated that Hasthinapur has wise priests. Mahaamahim Bhishma and Prime Minister Vidhur also have knowledge about muhurthams. So they did know that the time when your pot is being opened is a durmuhurtham.  Don't try to defend them. Because the time of birth of every Prince is recorded.  And yet your pot was opened on their orders in one of the worst durmuhurthams since the birth of Ravanasura."

Suyodhana fell bonelessly to the ground, tears falling down his face. "It's not like you are Shani Deva to convert an auspicious time to a durmuhurtham just by existing, Prince Suyodhana. No... Gods no" Radheya shook his head." The elders of Hasthinapur made you and your brothers into a curse, so that you will be the villains in the story of Pandava Princes. Now pass your judgment my Prince. Am I wrong?"

"N-no." Suyodhana choked out. "You are acquitted of all these charges."

The little Prince continued to cry. "Even in exile, Kunti Maa and Madri Maa checked for an auspicious time to give birth to the Pandavas. Why?" He wailed. "My mother received a boon to have us. And these..." he clenched his fists."... so called dharmis twisted that blessing into a curse. What sin have I committed for them to hate me, Radheya. What did I ever do in my previous life to deserve this?"

"Mahaamaahim Bhishma was obsessed with Hasthinapur throne, Prince Suyodhana." Radheya answered softly. "Because of his pledge, he devoted his life to the kingdom. So before his death, he wanted a worthy King on the throne. In his eyes what's a Prince compared to a demigod, Prince Suyodhana? I apologize for saying this but even before you are born you already lost. So for his obsession to find a perfect king, you and all of your brothers are the sacrifices he felt were acceptable to make."

'Of course it is.' Duryodhana thought, laughing to himself. 'Pitamah Bhishma, who swore he would never kill a Pandava, never swore he would protect his brothers. Even the arrows he forged are a way to placate him. The forthcoming day, Arjuna took them away. Arjuna, who had no way of knowing about those forged arrows, came exactly the next morning to collect his debt. Phalguna could have used his debt to stop the war by asking back their kingdom to settle the debt,  but decided that killing him and his brothers was the only way to get back their kingdom.

Pitamah Bhishma stalled the war till the Kaurava side was weakened and only then, in a dereliction of duty, told the Pandavas the secret to defeat him. It was against every rule of war but the victors will write this off as dharma of an old helpless man who let himself be killed for dharma's sake. Bloody fools. The less that was said about Vidur Kaka the better. He never bothered to fight.'

"Vasusena show mercy." Suyodhana begged his friend. "You are saying that we are raised to be villains for our cousins and I can't even disagree with you. Don't degrade my downtrodden self-worth even more."

"I'm not trying to trample on your self-worth, Suyodhana." Radheya replied. "All your life you fought for scraps of love from your elders. Love does not work that way Prince. Love is unconditional. You might think that I'm trying to hurt you with my bitter words. This is a medicine little Prince. And sometimes medicine is bitter to taste."

The child hugged him and cried his heart out. Radheya ran his hand through his hair consolingly. "So is it my fate to be a villain?"

Radheya just laughed at him that asshole. "My Prince, you are already a villain in the eyes of Hasthinapur. The servants hate you, the soldiers hate you, the diplomats hate you and your elders hate you. Mahaamahim Bhishma's attitude is one reason and your attitude is an other reason."

"You are not good at comforting people are you?" Suyodhana glared at him. through his tears . Radheya continued to smile. He always showed his caustic and bitter side in the palace. But here his features are softened. Suyodhana was struck on how handsome he looked at that moment and his irritation at his friend melted at that serene smile. "I'm not here to comfort you, my Prince. I am here to help you."

"You are digging an empty mine searching for love, Prince Suyodhana." Adhiratha's son said to the Prince. "Their love is reserved for Pandava Princes. The more you fight for that love... the more disappointed you will become. The more disappointed you are... you will start to feel jealous. A heart at peace gives a healthy body, but jealously rots the bones. In jealously... you'll forget your senses and start being cruel."

"You said that all soldiers hate me, Vasusena. And yet here you are willing to risk your life for my well-being." Suyodhana stated softly. "May I know why?"

"The answer, my Prince, is simple. You are a child." Radheya looked at him in his eyes. "A child is like a blank parchment, ready to be imbued with the colors of life's experiences. An adult is akin to a completed painting, embodying the hues of experiences gathered in childhood. No child is born evil and no adult chooses to be a villain. I saw you as a child and a child only. Children, Prince Suyodhana, are said to be Parameshwar's likeness. How can I ever hate that?"

"Thank you." For the first time in his life the Crown Prince of Hasthinapur thanked someone from the bottom of his heart. "I don't want to be a villain, Vasusena. So what should I do next?"

"You have people who love you, Prince." Vasusena stated. "Your father, your mother, your siblings and some people you might never know. Strive only for their love. As for your attitude...The root cause of your attitude is well... you are always punished for your deeds but no one told you why those deeds harm you. That s something I can never teach you. I'm pretty sure my attitude is much worse than yours. Queen Gandhari is considered to be one of the kindest and virtuous women in Aryavartha. Learn at her feet and emulate her. Heed her instruction and do not cross the line she issues. That's all I can say."

"My mother is the Queen of Hasthinapur, Radheya. She does not have time to spare to..." "Queen Gandhari loves you, Prince Suyodhana. People who love you will make time for you."

In his previous life, Suyodhana never listened to his mother. He surrounded himself with sycophants and never understood the damage it was causing him. Karna tried to stop him several times but ultimately gave in to his whims. In this life, after the conversation with his friend in the forest, Suyodhana went straight to his mother and promised her that he will always listen to her and will never go against her word. And he kept that promise. And in less than six months... the servants stopped sneering at them. They suddenly did not start to love him and his brothers but they did not outwardly hate them.

"Parameshwara... If I have another life. Let me and Karna be brothers in it." He prayed that night. "I do not know what I have done to deserve a friend like him in both of my lives. But all I ask now is that our friendship to be unbreakable in every life we are in."

The next morning when he raced towards Mala Yudh bhoomi, Karna received him with a kind smile on his face. This is the first time he saw his friend after coming back. The last time, he was lifeless on the ground surrounded by his enemies. Seeing him hale and healthy again bought smile on his face.

On seeing Mahaamaahim Bhishma and Prime Minister Vidhur, Suyodhana thought he would feel hatred towards them. Oddly, he felt nothing. And that is the most freeing thing he ever experienced in both lives

Chapter Text

"Never play a game that has been rigged against you, Meri Bhaanje. And if there is no way you could decline playing the game... find a way to rig the board to your favor."

His mamashree was a wise man who tried to teach him several lessons in his previous life. But if there is one lesson that struck Suyodhana was those words.

Is that not what he and his uncle did when they played with Kaunteyas on that cursed Dyut Sabha? Is that not what Shree Krishna did to Karna on behalf of Partha? With those tactics did they not win Kurukshetra despite have lesser army count? Even now in this great political game, aren't Mahaamahim Bhishma and Prime Minister Vidhur rigging the game so it would be favorable to the Devaputras.

Suyodhana was called a blind fool in his previous life... but he never knew he was this blind. He hated politics in his previous life, not knowing the cost of his obstinacy. How on earth did he ever survive till the Great War in his previous life?

He was a sacrifice, he understood now. He survived because the Great Keshav decided that he and all who supported him should be wiped off the face of the earth in one stroke.

Anyway the issue is that the board as of now is not in his favor. And with the arrival of Govind, the board will be so rigged against him that it will take Mahadev himself to save his family. And he very well knew where his standing with Gods is. Even praying to them is useless because whatever boons he and his brothers might be granted, they will put loopholes for those demigods to exploit.

Now Suyodhana has a dilemma. He could refuse to play this game against the Kaunteyas. But the issue here is that this is the game he cannot afford to decline. Because it would be an affront to Kshatriya Dharma, and he would be labeled as a coward. But if he goes against Devaputras, he will die and his entire family will follow him to the grave. The first choice will make him a mockery in the eyes of Aryavartha and it will make his and his siblings' life into a living hell. The second choice will cause the death of his family. His situation is like he cannot stay in the frying pan, cannot jump into the fire.

Now... he might have told his brothers that he wanted to distribute the lands between Kaunteyas and Kauravas equally. But there are three main issues if the Kingdom was divided equally.

The first issue is with the bifurcation of Hasthinapur itself. Many people assume that it's because of his arrogance, he refused to give the five villages to the Kaunteyas. Yes... he does agree that his arrogance played an important role along with the way the peace treaty was presented. But there is also a third factor for his refusal. It is in the villages, the Devaputras asked for.

Kusasthala, Vrikasthala, Makandi, Vanavartha and final area of Suyodhana's choosing is asked by Sree Krishna on behalf of his maternal cousins. These four villages with any village in the Kingdom would cause encirclement of Kaunteyas within Hasthinapur. This will limit trade, resources and army movement, which would weaken Kauravas immensely. Hasthinapur has villages which are either very well-developed or not developed at all. And outside the encirclement the Devaputras will have most of the developed areas and without trade to the outside the entire economy of Kaurava occupied Hasthinapur will suffer.

The Kingdom cannot be divided equally because if one side gets the developed part of Hasthinpaur, the other side will be insulted. And whatever side the Kaunteyas get... people will always side with them.

The second issue is with the members of the court and yes he's even including his parents in it.

When Hasthinapur was bifurcated and Indraprastha was formed, the only reason most of the people in the kingdom didn't leave for Indraprastha immediately was mainly due to two reasons. The first reason is that the common people have properties in Hasthinapur and second reason is that the trust the sheep had in Mahaamaahim Bhishma and Prime Minister Vidhur. It took a great amount of time for people to gain trust in his administration in his previous life.

If those elders are not with Kauravas, then there will be no people for them to rule within ten years of his rule if he is made the ruler of Hasthinapur. And even that's stretch to say the least. If he sent away the elders of Hasthinapur, there would be riots all over the Kingdom. And as soon as they could leave the citizens will leave and he'll be left with a skeleton kingdom. If he forced the people to stay he'll be called adharmi and well it's enough for those demigods to snatch the kingdom away.

Even though he sat on the throne of Hasthinapur in his previous life, Mahaaamahim Bhishma and Prime Minister Vidhur hated him and prayed fervently that Yudhistir would take the throne. A Kingdom in which a King cannot trust his ministers will fall to ruin. And expecting any help from the elders of Hasthinapur is beyond foolish. His father is blind to all the political mechanisms, has a tunnel vision of making him the Crown Prince. He is an able administrator but he had no mind for politics. If he wanted his son to take the throne, he or his wife should have trained his children in politics. His father is a puppet king in face of Mahaamahim Bhishma and Prime Minister Vidhur. For all both moaned that Dhritarashtra never listened to them, the advice he discarded were always biased towards those Kaunteyas. No father will ever strengthen the sons of his enemy. That is basic common sense. The rest of the time he always bowed to their wisdom.

If Kauravas get Khandavprastha after bifurcation, then no citizen will ever come to that kingdom. Because none of the citizens of Hasthinapur trusted him and he cannot build a kingdom without any citizens. It's not like he could depend on the Gods to help him build a city, unlike those demigods.

The third and the most dangerous issue he has for now... Propaganda.

Suyodhana never knew how powerful propaganda is till  he lost his friend and was reborn. Karna is right... He lost love and even the throne before he was born.

Queen Pritha is a political shark who he overlooked in his previous life. An orator who could give a masterclass in white-washing.

When that wild buffalo Bhimasen kicked him down from a tree he's plucking mangoes from just because of his sadism, his actions are covered up by saying Suyodhana was stealing the fruits. Just for one second, think again. Why the bloody hell would a Prince of a Kingdom need to steal from the garden? The garden was provided to the widow of the previous King by his father and it was the property of the Kingdom. A Prince has bloody right to take anything that was in the property of the Kingdom. His hands got fractured and despite being the owner, he was insulted as a thief and Bhimasen was heralded as the Protector. All of that just from single tear from that woman.

People say he poisoned Bhimasen. Yes... yes, he did. Bhimasen was almost a foot and half taller than him and his brothers and was stronger than most of the adults. Any child would be scared of such a person. When his brothers refused to play with him, the bastard turned into a mad elephant and beat all of them black and blue. The strength in his arms could break the bones of an adult. So imagine what it would do to a child.

His brothers were all he had at that time. His father was blind and his mother chose to be blind, so neither of them could see the injuries inflicted by that rakshasha. And those so called dharmis saw the injuries and in clear prejudice towards the sons of Kunti, dismissed those injuries. A strong child with a heart of gold, they said about that rakhshasa. More like a mad elephant who trampled down anyone or anything if it does not go his way.

Broken ribs, fractured arms, broken teeth and other injuries are dismissed just like that. Instead of scolding him and telling him to control his cruelty, he was praised for his strength. And people wonder why he hated that fat buffalo. Emboldened by their silent blessing, that mad elephant continued inflicting injuries on his siblings. Suyodhana started to loose respect for his elders at that time. Seeing his brothers' suffering, he decided to take matters into his own hands and put down that mad dog.

That's the reason why he poisoned him. The same elders who turned a blind eye towards the suffering of Kauravas, grew enraged when one of the Kauteyas got hurt. Even his mother hated him without knowing the reason behind his act. Did he do the right thing? Most certainly not. But what other choice did he have? No one ever heeded his words.  Between the tears of a widow and an ill-omen child, even his own mother choose the widow.  All the beatings, all the injuries and all the insults hurled towards the hundred sons of King Dhritarastra were white-washed by a few tears of a manipulative shark who decided that her son should ascend the throne.

People said he tried to kill Bhima by throwing him in the river. But they forgot his ten brothers who were water-boarded by that rakshasha. The white-washing and propaganda was so effective that people really believed that Kaunteyas could do no wrong. And instead of getting punished for his deeds, the fat pig gained the strength of ten thousand elephants to torment his brothers even more.

Lakshagraha, is entirely his fault though. Despite being the eldest son of the King, Suyodhana was denied his birth right and Yudhistir was made the Crown prince of Hasthinapur. Many could argue that Yudhistir was born before him. But a basic question they forgot to ask themselves. If you adopt a child, would you give him higher status than the person born in your family? Most certainly not. The children of blood must come first. Only then will the adopted children have a share in any property.

But that was not what happened. King Pandu adopted those Devaputras through Niyoga. The key word is adopted. And yet Yudhistir was made the Crown Prince because Bhishma, Vidhur and the Brahmins of society said so. Didn't his father listen to their words then? So Suyodhana, in his wrath and jealousy hatched a plot to kill off all the Kaunteyas. It was not the right thing to do, but he knew even if a single one of those demigods are alive, the elders would make them the Crown Prince.

Many people cursed him by stating that he organized that cursed Dyut Sabha to snatch the kingdom from Kaunteyas. But no one will ever curse Yudhistir.

In the beginning, Both sides lost and gained equally in Dyut Sabha. Then Yudhistir started winning several dice games in a row. The Kauravas lost their treasury, crops of the land for several years and even taxes gained by the Kingdom. And yet Yudhistir did not stop the game despite winning all of that. No he continued his game till the Hasthinapur throne was placed at stake. Then and only then Mama Shakuni made Suyodhana win. The son of Dharma Deva once said that his acceptance of the invitation to Dyut Sabha is because 'Denial of an invitation to Dice, and a summon for war is an impropriety for a Kshatriya.'

You accepted the invitation to the game as per propriety and you won more than enough to make increase your wealth to two-fold so you should have left. Suyodhana was called epitome of greed but can anyone honestly say Yudhistir is any better? At least he as the eldest Kaurava, never staked his brothers and his wife on a dice game in his lust to gain the throne. Yes he was greedy at seeing the wealth his cousins managed to amass, he will never deny it. But can anyone say Yudhistir is not lustful for the throne? Both he and Yudhistir are of Kshatriya blood. The lust for the throne is embedded in every cell of their body.

The advantage was given to him on a golden platter and Suyodhan, with his foolish actions, jealousy and wrath, wasted the best chance he ever got in his life. His chance to prove that those demigods are as fallible just like humans. Yudhistir made one of the worst mistakes in his life, showed off how much he is controlled by vices. He staked his brothers like chattel. The worst thing Yudhistir did was that he objectified his wife as the most beautiful woman on earth and said she would be Kauravas slave if he lost. That day showed his nature and it would be enough for the entire kingdom to turn against the Jyestakaunteya. But just because of his foolishness and jealousy, he ordered Paanchaal Princess to be stripped in the assembly.

Draupadi did not deserve that. The venom of his jealousy should never have touched her. Suyodhan knew he had made the greatest mistake in his life on that day. If he left her alone, Yudhistir and the rest of Kaunteyas would be humiliated before the entirety of Aryavartha. Just because of his lust, ego and jealousy he made the worst mistake of his life by ordering the fire-born princess to be stripped in open court.  The grayness was washed away and the situation became black and white by the white-washing done by the ministers of Hasthinapur. Duryodhana humiliated a woman, so he is an adharmi. Kaunteyas promised to avenge their wife's honor. So they are dharmi. They say Kurukshetra was fought to avenge the insult to Paanchaal Princess.

Then why are Yudhistir and the rest of those demigods not killed along side himself, Sushasana and Karna? Why did the rest of his ninety-eight brothers killed when they did no wrong? Hell most of them are not even present during Dyut Sabha. What sin they have committed other than having Suyodhana as their brother?

Even the peace treaty was a sham. The first demand to restore Indraprastha to its former glory cannot be done by Hasthinapur.  Indraprastha was in complete ruins after the Kaunteyas completed their exile.

Sage Vishwakarma has designed and built the city. Just to build the city back to its former glory will empty the treasury of Hasthinapur. And that was just for the city itself. The Palaces built by Mayasura are masterpieces in both architecture and illusions. The first demand will financially cripple Kaurava occupied Hasthinapura. Few of the materials used in the construction of that city are not even found on the earth. It was a demand that Hasthinapur cannot bear.

The second peace treaty terms was for all his brothers to fall on Draupadi's feet and gain the forgiveness of Yajnaseni. He really should have taken this deal. But in his ego he refused. But the fact is that Draupadi would never have forgiven him. Hell his own wife Bhanu never forgave him for what he did to Paanchali. How could they think that Draupadi would ever forgive him, he never knew. Hell, she had her hair unbound for thirteen years just to wash it in the blood of Sushasana. Expecting forgiveness even if he agreed to those terms is idiocy. If she did not forgive them, well the war would have started nonetheless. And most of his brothers were not even part of the humiliation done to the fire born Princess.

The third peace terms was to give one village for each of the Pandavas. But the villages asked by those Devaputras through Govind would cause the kingdom to be divided concentrically. It would eliminate trade, water and soldier movements for the Kauravsena. This option will cripple Hasthinapur financially and economically. So in his wrath, he declared that he would not even give a land worth the tip of a needle to those demigods. People say that Yudhistir did not want war. If that's the case, he should not have started it or should have bought better terms during the peace treaty.

But no one ever cared about his reasons. His refusal portrayed him as a stubborn jackass who refused to listen to his elders and spit on the peace treaty sent to him by the Kaunteyas.

'Bhala Sri Krishna... Bhala.  You wished for war to kill everyone on my side and you succeeded with your skills and planning.' He thought. 'You made even my mother abandon me. You might be my enemy but I really should applaud your wit.'

'Purvsoochit hona saksam banata hai.' Forewarned is forearmed they say. And yet even with all the foreknowledge he has, Suyodhana and his brothers are caught in Chakravuyh which he has no hope of breaching.

He has roughly five years left before Govind enters the political playground and fifteen years when the Narayana avatar will start helping the Kaunteyas. Twelve years of his life will be spent in Guru Dronacharya's ashram. Partha and Keshav will meet together in Paanchaal Princess' swayamvaram and from that moment they will be unstoppable. He has to use every moment planning on how to save his family from being annihilation. he has no other choice.

"Parameshwaraaa!" he prayed in his heart to his mother's favorite deity. "Please give me wisdom enough to pass this trail of fire."

Two Months Later.

Nestled within the verdant embrace of ancient woodlands near Hastinapura, Dronacharya looked over the place constructed by the Crown of Hasthinapur as his Gurukul. He swore to himself that in future this Gurukul would be a place that would be renowned for wisdom and martial prowess. Enchanting flora, resplendent in hues of emerald and gold, encircle the hallowed institution, weaving a tapestry of tranquility that fosters an environment conducive to both intellectual and physical pursuits.

The gurukul's architectural magnificence unveils itself through intricately carved structures adorned with symbols of knowledge and martial valor. Stately spires pierced the heavens. As sunlight filtered through the foliage, it bathed the courtyards in a warm, ethereal glow, casting a radiant aura upon the sanctum of learning.Training grounds sprawled expansively, their earthen expanse punctuated by meticulously arranged weaponry.

This Gurukul's facilities mirror opulence without ostentation, seamlessly blending functionality with aesthetic grace. Lecture halls are adorned with tapestries depicting tales of valor and virtue. There was a common dormitory in the place where all the Princes would sleep together. This is made to their foster bonds as Guru Bhratas so that they might form a life-long bonds. The kitchens are still not stocked as the soldiers are awaiting his instructions about the food to be given to the Princes. The only food present in the kitchens are tumblers filled with cow milk.

Dronacharya smiled softly. Aswatthama wanted to taste cow milk because his friends teased him. But because of his poverty, his wife Kripi was unable to provide milk for her son and had to mix rice flour in water to deceive him. It scarred his child's heart. Now because of the Crown of Hastginapur, he does not lack for anything. He swore that he would serve this place with all his heart.

Hasthinapur didn't spare any expense not only on building this Gurukul but also the house he was provided with.

The abode he was provided with is an area draped in vines and embraced by ancient banyan trees, its architecture also  a seamless fusion of modesty and grandeur. The entrance, adorned with intricately carved wooden panels depicting scenes from epics, opens into a courtyard where fragrant blossoms bloom in riotous colors. The air is redolent with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood, weaving a tapestry of olfactory delights that greets visitors with a sensory embrace. The rhythmic murmur of nearby rivulets and the gentle rustle of leaves provide a natural symphony, orchestrating a serene ambiance.

He was told that the place was chosen by his wife. The garden he is seeing used to be a barren wasteland and Kripi converted it into a beautiful garden. The house itself is a symphony of simplicity and sophistication. Low, tiled roofs crown the structure, offering respite from the sun's embrace. The interior walls are adorned with paintings narrating tales of valor and virtue. Muted hues of saffron and ochre dominate the living spaces, imparting a sense of calm and introspection. All of this tranquility is marred when he saw the Suta who dared to insult his guru.

After the milk incident, despite lacking materialistic desires, Drona sought to secure their well-being. Upon learning of Parashurama's generosity, Drona approached him for aid left to search for the Vishnu Avatar. He heard that Guru Parashuram was going to visit his old student Devarata Bhishma of Hasthinapur. Before Guru Parashuram reached Hasthinapur, Drona found him but it was already too late. Parashurama has given away all his wealth and land he had. Not wanting to send a Brahmin empty handed, he offered Drona a choice between his body and divine weapons. Opting for the weapons and accompanying mantras, Drona felt blessed, yet his financial struggles persisted.

He heard all about the rambunctious Kaurava Princes from his brother-in-law. He heard that the court of Hasthinapur was at it's wits end on what to do with the hundred rebellious, lazy and ill-omen children. Mahaamahim Bhishma suggested that if the children are to be sent to Gurukul their behavior might be tamed.

So when the search for a Guru to the Princes of Hasthinapur has started, his wife's brother, Kripa has nominated him as a teacher. He only managed to pass the severe tests given to him on Shaastra and Astra-Shaastra by Bhishma only due to the knowledge he received from Guru Parashuram. He left the construction of his house in the capable hands of his wife, and overlooked the construction of the training grounds and Gurukul.

It was during this time he heard about that arrogant suta. His wife Kripi was a tough woman to please. She doesn't give out praise unless the person in question does an excellent job. So when his wife praised the young commander of Samudra division on his dedication to his duty, he was curious about the person who with his dedication to duty, managed to impress his wife.

The suta has a reputation of being a cruel, obstinate but a intelligent person. Those three natures which should never be present in one person. And to add even more complications, Prince Suyodhana was said to listen to only two people in the palace. His mother and that bastard. And the hundred Princes will never cross the line drawn by the eldest Kaurava. And that suta was the reason why the Suyodhana willingly gave up his right of being the  Hasthinapur's Crown Prince. So removing a person who has such sway over the eldest son of King is quiet diffucult.

Six weeks ago, King Dhritarashtra called summons for elders and the ministers of Hasthinapur. Then after getting permission from his father, Prince Suyodhana stepped up and declared.

"I, Prince Suyodhana the eldest son of King Dhritarashtra and Queen Gandhari, hereby declare my voluntary decision to renounce and give up my right to the position of Crown Prince of Hasthinapur. After careful consideration and reflection, I have come to the conclusion that it is in the best interest of the country and its people for me to relinquish my claim to the title and responsibilities of Crown Prince. I have the utmost respect for the traditions and institutions of our country, and I believe that this decision will contribute to the stability and harmony of the nation." He stated in a strong voice.

The entirety of the court looked at each other in confusion. They never thought that the stiff-necked prince would ever give up his right to the throne. Mahaamahim Bhishma, Prime Minister Vidhur and Kulguru Kripa looked at the King whose face was clear of emotion. The Queen's blindfold turned wet with tears. Undeterred by the proceedings in the court, Suyodhana continued.

"I hereby renounce all privileges, titles, and responsibilities associated with the position of Crown Prince, and I release any claims to the throne, both now and in the future. I pledge my continued loyalty to the royal family and the country. I affirm that this decision was made of my own free will and without any coercion or undue influence. I understand the implications of this declaration and accept the consequences of my decision." Taking a deep breath, he turned to his father. "Pitashree, please accept my statement officially."

With tears in his eyes the blind King has affirmed "We, Dhritarashtra and Gandhari as the placeholder monarchs of Hasthinapur, hereby acknowledge and accept the decision of our beloved son, Prince Suyodhana, to renounce his rights to the position of Crown Prince voluntarily. We have received and considered his formal declaration of abdication of the rights and responsibilities associated with the position of Crown Prince. We express our unwavering support for our son's decision and commend his sense of duty and responsibility in making this choice. We understand and respect his reasons for relinquishing the title and affirm our commitment to upholding the dignity and honor of his decision."

Everybody expected that the King would reject his son's declaration. His ambition to see his son on the throne was well known to the ministers of the court. What has happened?

"As the placeholder monarch, we hereby declare our acceptance of the abdication of Prince Suyodhana from the position of Crown Prince and assure him of our continued love and support. We recognize the importance of ensuring a smooth and orderly transition within the royal family and pledge to uphold the traditions and principles of our monarchy. This declaration is made in accordance with the laws and customs of our nation, and we affirm our commitment to the stability and continuity of our royal lineage and the welfare of our people. For that reason, I declare Prince Yudhistir, the son of my brother King Pandu and Queen Kunti, as the Crown Prince of Hasthinapur. When Prince Yudhistir comes of age, after completing the traditions and examinations, he will become the King of Hasthinapur."

The joy in the eyes of Mahaamahim Bhishma and Prime Minister Vidhur seeped to the bones of the rest of the court and the atmosphere became joyous. The King and the queen along with their family left the celebrations. Bhishma looked as if a large load had been lifted from his shoulders and a wide smile adorned his face. No one except him saw the disappointment on the faces of the monarchs. The stories portrayed the Prince very differently from what he is seeing. So to quench his curiosity, he followed the Prince secretly to one of the training grounds in the Palace where he saw the Prince with a soldier who didn't attend the festivities.

"Are you not going to attend the festivities, Vasusena?"  

"I have a feeling that you need someone with you at this time, Little Prince." The Head Charioteer of a division, judging by his uniform, replied."So here I am."  The Prince sat down and smiled at the older child with tears in his eyes.

"Do you want to know why I did what I did today?"

"Seeing as it's partially my fault. Yes..." The suta replied in a soft tone bowing his head in shame. "I'm really sorry for that, Little Prince. I should never have spoken those bitter words and hurt you."

"Why are you sorry, Vasusena?" The Prince questioned. "You didn't tell a single lie. Truth sometimes is bitter. It's not your fault Vasusena. At least by your words, I managed to understand the situation I am in before it's too late. My father was adamant on refusing my words you see. So I repeated the words you spoke to me to my father and mother. It took a long time for me to convince them but I managed to make them see my point."

"So why did you do this? I understand only one part." Vasusena asked the Prince.

"Never play a rigged game. This is one of the lessons I have learnt from watching you, Mitr Karna." Vasusena eyes suddenly sharpened to an alarming degree and looked at the Prince intensely. Why he did that Drona never knew but the expression changed in less than a second. "You always rig the game to your favor. That's the reason why no one has ever managed to beat you in any debate. Now the Game of Politics is heavily rigged against me. In this game, if I lose it means the death of me and all of my brothers. So I'm changing the rules of the game."

"Who is this Karna, Little Prince?" Vasusena asked tilting his head. "Is he a new friend of yours? "

Suyodhana was silent for a few moments. "Never mind that, Vasusena. Anyway my parents want to meet you tomorrow. But for now I'm in the mood to let out some steam. Fight with me. "

Drona then asked around about the boy and then heard about the altercation between Vasusena and Guru Parashuram. Despite his wrath against the suta, he controlled himself. It was mostly due to a few reasons.

Both these boys are contradictions. Their infamy and their actions do not match up. A week after Suyodhana gave up his rights to the throne, he heard from his brother-in-law that he Prime Minister Vidhur and Mahaamahim Bhishma are barred from the King's quarters and the quarters of Kaurava Princes,  except for the matters of state.

The arguments placed by the Prince managed to drive a wedge between the King and the ministers of Hasthinapur. The Prince himself admitted that he put front the arguments of that suta. King Dhritarastra respected the Pitamah of Hasthinapur very much. To turn that level of respect into hate, requires a special kind of intellect. The intellect of a dangerous kind.

Going against this suta unprepared is very dangerous. The boy is a master manipulator and is a great strategist. So Drona decided that he will control himself and try to rig the board against the suta and will have him punished for what he did to his teacher. He will not let anger control him and take rash actions like Pitamah Bhishma did. He will avenge the insult dealt to his teacher.

Chapter Text

Gandhari always thought herself to be a good wife and a good mother. She tried her best always to curb her husband's influence on her son. But she forgot that in the formation of a child's psyche, both the mother and the father have an equal responsibility.

 The throne had long been a source of division and conflict between her husband and his brother, its shadow looming large over the brothers. It now threatened to engulf their sons in a war that promised only loss and destruction. But Suyodhana's decision to step away from this path appeared as a beacon of hope, the possibility of peace suddenly within grasp, a dream she scarcely dared to believe could become reality.

Yet, beneath the initial wave of relief, Gandhari was troubled by a deep sense of perplexity. Suyodhana, known for his ambition and unyielding determination, was the last person anyone would expect to relinquish power so readily. His actions were out of character, a deviation from the the stubbornness that defined him. The timing of his decision, just three months after the return of the sons of Gods, only added to the mystery, suggesting that there was more to this choice than met the eye.

So she was silent when her husband asked him why he was taking that hard decision.

"Have you lost your mind Suyodhana..." Her husband screamed at her son. "The throne of Hasthinapur is your right. How could you give up your right to the throne?"

Suyodhana was silent for a few moments. "Because I don't want me and all my brothers to die."

The answer stunned both the king and the queen to silence. "Amma, if you won't be angry with me... can I ask you a question?"

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Gandhari nodded. "Father was born blind... but why are you blind, Amma?" The bitterness in her son's voice swallowed the anger that rose in her. Her child challenged her act of service towards her husband and yet the sadness in his tone made her stop. But she cannot let this go. Because if she's not strict with Suyodhana when he's a child, he will turn even more obstinate.  It's easier to bend a sapling than a tree. So hardening her heart, she replied.

"This blindfold is the symbol of my devotion towards your father, Suyodhana." She said injecting steel in her tone.

"I didn't ask why you are wearing a blindfold Amma. I'm asking why you chose to be blind?" Suyodhana replied his tone turning harsh but she could hear helplessness in it. "Father did you ever ask Amma to blind herself for you?"

"Why does that matter, Suyodhana?" Dhritarastra asked after retaining his senses. "You are asking me to announce that you are renouncing your rights as a Crown Prince. That's our conversation. So why does your mother's decision she made even before you were born matter?"

"It's crucial to this situation, Father." was the answer. "So Father did you ever ask Amma to blindfold herself?"

Deciding to humor his obstinate son her husband replied. "No."

"Father never asked you to blind yourself Amma." The Prince replied calmly. "So why are you blind Amma?"

"I don't want any advantage your father does not have Suyodhana. Since last year, you have been good. So where is this obstinacy coming from?" Gandhari asked helplessly. She was so hopeful. In the last year, his son stopped being obstinate and began listening to her, going far as to promise that he'd never cross any boundary she drew. Now his obstinate nature is back and it pained her heart.

"Because..." Suyodhana took a deep breath. "...because you chose to blind yourself, me and my brothers are now struck in a quagmire that threatened to swallow us whole. Because you chose your devotion to your husband over your duty towards your children..." Here his laugh was so hollow that it crushed her heart. "...now your children are prepped for a slaughter with a death sentence hanging over their head even before they were born."

"Suyodhana..." Both she and her husband roared.

"Angry are you both?" He continued in a fierce tone. "Alright... let's play a game." Her eldest son stood before them both and took each of their hands. "Tell me what is the expression on my face."

"Obstinate and angry." Both she and her husband replied at once. Suyodhana didn't say anything but put both of their hands on his face. It was wet and was filled with tears.

"I'm crying in helplessness, amma." Fresh tears wet her hand and instinctively, both she and her husband instinctively took their clothes and wiped off those tears.  "I'm crying in helplessness and you couldn't even see my tears, amma." He said walking away from her after batting their hands from his face. How long was her child carrying anguish in his heart? "I'm not angry that you are devoted to father amma. I'm disappointed because I and my brothers are never your priority."

"How can you say that Suyodhana?" She cried. "How can you ever say that?"

"You had one hundred sons, amma. Tell me when we ran around the palace of Hasthinapur, who played with us? Who will give us guidance when we make wrong steps?" Suyodhana's voice was harsh but the pain in it was not gone. "Have you ever thought for a single second...'If I blindfold myself, who will take care of my children? Who will raise them? Who will look after their well-being? Who will teach them decorum?' Have you ever thought this in your life amma?" He asked. "We are never your priority amma. Deny anything but not this."

Gandhari's blindfold turned wet with tears but Suyodhana didn't bother to wipe them off. "Are you done, Suyodhana?" she wailed. "Did you say whatever you had to say?"

"Suyodhana.. why are you hurting your mother so much?" Dhritarastra asked softly. "She has sacrificed so much for our family. What did you ever miss in your upbringing? You and your brothers have the finest clothes, delicious food and everything a child needs. Why are you like this, Suyodhana?"

"What we don't have is a person who loved us unconditionally father." Suyodhana stated. "A person who will be our friend when we play. A person who gives us time when we are sad. A person who dresses our wounds when we get hurt. When we make a wrong step a guide who will teach us what is right or wrong. A person who watches over our conduct and teaches us manners. Father has Putra Moh amma, not love. And our mother whose first priority should be her children has placed devotion towards her husband before the well-being of their children."

"Pati..." Gandhari spoke with a voice filled with emotion. "...our son became a man even before he is a kishore.  He became a man enough to question his mother. But I have to answer his questions. Tell me Maharaj Dhritarastra, you too are blind aren't you? Then how is the administration of Hastinapur was going so smoothly? Hmm..." Her voice trembled. "The administration is going softly because you have placed wise and trusted members to lead you, isn't it Maharaj?"

"Suyodhana... you asked why I wore this blindfold didn't you?" Gandhari took a deep breath and composed herself. "I'm wearing this blindfold because of my pati dharma. And you questioned it. Because of your father's disability and my pledge, we may never be able to raise you but we haven't neglected you. Just like your father has the help of administrators to guide him, you too have many people in this place to love you. You hundred brothers have drove away every caretaker we provided for you with your recklessness and obstinacy..."

Suyodhana snorted but didn't say anything so she continued. "Whenever you and your brothers are hurt we have the best physicians in Aryavartha to heal you. You have Pitamah Bhishma, the world's greatest warrior and one of the wisest men in the world to guide you whenever you take a wrong step. Your Kaka Vidhur could teach you conduct, decorum and manners but you never listened to him.

Your great-grandmother and your grandmothers loved you.  Tell me Suyodhana. Aren't they enough?"

Her son stood silently for a few moments before he started laughing. Irritated by his laugh, her husband snarled. "Which of your mother's words is so humorous Suyodhana?

"Mahaamahim Bhishma? Prime Minister Vidur?" Her heart stopped for a moment. When did her child stop considering his Kaka and Pitamah as his relatives? What actually happened? "Mahaamahim Bhishma and Prime Minister Vidur, amma? Really?" Her son didn't even bother to hide his scorn. "At least my Rani Ambalika and Maharani Satyavathi tried to love me even though they ultimately failed. But Mahaamahim Bhishma and Prime Minister Vidhur. Have you both lost your mind?"

"Suyodhana, they are your elders and well-wishers of  Hastinapur." Her husband scolded her son. "What happened Suyodhana? Why are you showing so much scorn towards them?"

"Why you ask father? Really...that's your question?" Her eldest child scoffed. "You used to call us Mahadev ka prasaad. But do you know what me and my brothers are called all over the kingdom, amma? Hastinapur ka kalank. The child who should be thrown into the forest to die. Doesn't that sound familiar, amma?"

"Suyodhana..."

"They are familiar because I was declared as such by Prime Minister Vidhur. He was the one who declared that I should be abandoned in the forest to die. And you placed my well-being in his hands. The well-being of me and my brothers you placed in the hands of such a person amma, really?"

Sweat started to gather over her forehead. When put it that way she could understand why her child called her and her husband fools. "What have you said amma? We have Pitamah Bhishma, the world's greatest warrior and one of the wisest men in the world to guide us whenever we take a wrong step." The contempt in the tone can be heard clearly. "Ask him first to spend time with us without thinking that I and my brothers are kul nashaks."

"Suyodhana..." her husband shouted.

"He couldn't even stand to look at us. And you both are telling he was the person who would lead us in right way." The sarcasm in that tone could be heard even by a deaf person. "As for Prime Minister Vidhur... the bastard who never forgot to remind everyone of my birth conveniently forgot that Bhimasen too was born on that same day. That bastard who deprived us the love of my grandmothers and great-grandmother. Who poisoned the minds of the entire Hasthinapur against us to the point where even a servant could sneer at hundred of us without a consequence. You really thought I would listen to such a person, amma?"

Both she and her husband sat down silently. They cannot answer their son. "If you haven't willingly blinded yourself... you would have seen the expressions on their faces whenever they talk about us. You said you fulfilled your Pati dharma, amma?" The vitrol in his voice shocked her. "Then where is your mata dharma? For your pati dharma... you have neglected all your other duties. The duty of a mother, the duty of a queen hell even the duty of a wife you have failed amma."

"How can you say that Suyodhana?" she wailed. "How can you ever say that?"

"If your other-half is unable to walk you should be their support. If he/she is deaf, you should be their ears. If he/she is mute you should be their voice. And if he/she is blind, you should be their sight. That is kalyana dharma amma. Not what you have deluded yourself into believing. Whatever one lacks the other should make up for it in a marriage. Say I am wrong, amma. I dare you to."

Never in her life Gandhari felt such sorrow. Because she cannot refute it. Suyodhana is speaking truth. "Me and my brothers have no one amma. No one who loved us and made us their priority. Tell me amma even you started to hate me and my brothers right? Don't lie."

"Suyodhana..." her husband started

"You told Dussashana that stealing was wrong without even listening to him when Bhimasena kicked him down from that mango tree." Suyodhana snarled. "My brother... my poor little brother just wanted to escape from all others and simply relax on a tree. He didn't touch even a single fruit and yet was branded as a thief by the great Mahaamahim of Hasthinapur and you believed him."

Is that what really happened? She never knew. "My brother who got fractures in his right hand and in world of pain was expecting his mother to atleast listen to his side. What did you do? Tell me amma, what did you do?" Suyodhana's voice didn't raise but Gandhari felt it would be better if he screamed on her face. The disappointed voice of her child pierced her heart worse than a blade. "You scolded him."

He took a deep breath. "Ok let us assume that he really did steal them. Is it really the time to scold him, mother? When he is lying in pain... is it really the good time for your lectures? Do you know he asked me if his mother too started to hate him just like all the elders in the court? You branded him a thief even after knowing his character. For all you decry our actions by saying we never listened to you... you abandoned us long ago. Just from the words of the great Mahaamahim..." He snarled. "...you too began to hate us.

अप्रियस्य च प्रियत्वं प्रियस्य चाप्रियता।

प्रियं च अप्रियं चैव गुणवानस्य बुध्यते॥"

"Love covers hundred wrongs but hatred makes even a virtue look like a vice." Her husband translated the words spoken. Her children truly thought that she stopped loving them.

"Even when that mad elephant was the one to nearly kill us... me and my brothers were told by you and the elders to make peace with them. "

"Bhimasena didn't try to kill your brothers, Suyodhana... Even the healer said the bruises you got are mild." Her husband spoke on behalf of her. "He was just playing around.  "

"Mild..." the tone of her child turned glacial. "Mild he said, right. Well, give me a few minutes."

Footsteps are heard before an order was heard. "Sanjeev... bring the royal physician to me immediately. I don't care of he's busy. If he's not here in next ten minutes... I'll have you both beheaded."

A few moments later, the arrival of royal physician was announced by the door guard. "So you are the royal physician who relays the well-being of our hundred brothers to our parents."

"Yes, Prince Suyodhana." was the reply.

"Last week... in 'rough-housing' with Prince Bhimasena, five of my brothers got injured. What are their names?"

"Prince Vikarna, Prince...." The royal physician could not recall other names and was silent. "No need I'll tell their names myself. Vikarna, Suvarma, Balvardhana, Anudhara and Chitrakundala. Out of these five who was least injured. I'm not asking about their injuries. " The sneer in his tone was heard clearly. "According to your experience, which amongst them is least injured?"

The healer was silent for several moments. "Prince Vikarna is the one who is least injured." He answered hesistantly.

Suddenly the screams of the healer filled the room. She got startled by the sound and her husband too was surprised by the screams. "What is happening?" He ordered. she could hear several footsteps entering the room.

"Me and the royal physician are just 'rough-housing'." Her son said with a false cheer. "No need to be so worried. All of you... leave." He ordered his leaving no space or argument. When none of them made to leave, her son added. "Vasusena was my teacher in the law of the land." He started in a low voice. "Does any of you want to test how much I learnt from him?" In a matter of seconds the room was cleared except for her child and the physician.

"A partially fractured rib along with few broken teeth and buckle fracture in both wrists and ankles. Those are just the injuries Vikarna got." Suyodhana spoke again in false cheer. "We are just 'rough-housing' royal physician. And I broke them cleanly for you and not beating you repeatedly till the injury occured. So you won't feel that much pain unlike my brothers. These are mild injuries, aren't they? So why are you squealing like a pig?"

"I'm sorry... Please forgive me Prince." The physician sobbed.

"What's there to forgive, Vaidhya?" The cold tone was back. "Vikarna was the least injured one. And yet you a grown man of thirty and five years are wailing after receiving similar injuries to him. You didn't even receive injuries similar to Suvarma or Chitrakundala... theirs is far more worse. Shall I inflict them on you? No wait there's still a part left."

For the next few moments, there are sounds of struggle but no screams are heard. Then a hand with a bent wrist held one of her feet. It was suspiciously wet. "Show mercy, my King and Queen. He's going to drown me." The royal physician wailed. "My queen, everyone knew Prince Suyodhana only listens to you and Vasusena." She filed that name for later. "Please tell him to show mercy."

"At age of thirty and five... you are unable to bear the least of the injures my brothers has gone through." Every trace of amusement was wiped off from her son's voice. "I have half a mind to kill you in the very place you stand. And I would be within my rights to do so. You lied about the injuries of my brothers to my father and mother. Lying to the King and queen constitutes as treason, you know. Shall I bring all your family to be beheaded right away Vaidhya?"

"Please... p-please show mercy on me Prince Suyodhana." The royal physician sobbed. It's an ugly sound. "Please spare me just this once,"

"Why should I?" The voice didn't waver a bit. "It's not your children who got hurt. It's my children. I raised all the other hundred of them as my own children because none in this bloody court cared for them."Her heart squeezed in pain at those words because it's true. Then as if commenting on weather he continued. "I wonder if your children will scream when I behead them."

"That's too cruel, Prince Suyodhana." The vaidhya sobbed.

"I do agree... but that's the law of the land vaidhya." Even her husband trembled at the cold words by her son. "And I'm not in a particularly forgiving mood these days. Because of your negligence... my parents didn't even come to comfort my brothers. And their tormentor got away scot free. My brothers are very sad you see. So why should I bother showing mercy for a traitor?"

"Because I was ordered to keep it under wraps, Prince Suyodhana." He wailed. Her husband crushed the armrest with his bare hands and asked a simple question. "Who?"

"By Mahaamahim Bhishma." the vaidhya cried out.

"Not really surprising." Her son commented without any surprise in his tone. "Did he say that Bhimasen lost his father and is lashing out, so don't say this to the king and queen and blow it out of proportion which will get him punished?"

"Yes." the vaidhya agreed.

"You are just following orders... so you may leave." The tone was bitter. "Not a single thing in this room must go out. Have your injuries treated well" He ordered throwing a sack of coins on the ground. The vaidhya's footsteps raced out of the room.

"Mahaamahim Bhishma, amma? Really?" He sneered. "That's the person with whom you trusted our well-being?" Gandhari started to cry helplessly. "A virtuous man, huh?"

"I didn't know Suyodhana." She cried. "I really didn't know. Please believe me."

"If you cannot see you should have bloody listened when we came to you." He spoke in a bitter tone. "Both of you. Like I said for you, your so called pati dharma and then showing respect to elders is more important and father never goes against the Mahaamahim. We were never your first priority. That cursed throne made it so. You tell me father... is it worth it? Is it really worth being called a curse on the family you are born? Just because I would be competitor for the throne when I grow up... from the very day I was born... I was marked for death. And just for being my brothers, all of them will follow me to the grave."

"I'm playing a rigged game." The melanchony was clearly heard in his voice. "And that game thirsts for the blood of me and my brothers."

"I know very well that I can kill that pig who dared to lay hands on my brothers with nothing more than my bare hands. I'm angry enough to do so. Vasusena made sure that I'm very skilled in wrestling. But even when my brothers are tortured in front of me... just for the word I gave that I'll always follow your command, I can't do anything but watch helplessly. If you have seen our faces... our pain, you would have understood amma. So I'm asking you again amma.... My father is born blind, but why are you blind?"

Her husband placed his hand in hers for support.

All three of them are silent for several moments. The eerie stillness was broken by her continued sobs. Her foolish decision for following pati dharma caused this. "Don't cry, amma. I didn't say these words to hurt you amma. Contrary to what you believe... I still respect you. I'm saying these words because Hasthinapur is a place where even my mother hates me and my brothers. No love is greater than mother's love and no care is greater than father's care is what people say. This place poisoned you against me and my brothers. If my own mother started to hate me... why would I expect others to love me?"

"Unsatisfied public is the ruler's doom. And in a Kingdom where a king cannot trust his own ministers is like a house built without foundation." Gandhari's heart squeezed. Those were her brother Shakuni's words. When did her child become so wise? "I'm hated in this kingdom. I would rather show my back to an enemy with a sword in his hand than these bastards." The sheer loathing in her child's voice is gut-wrenching.

"Father, the throne you have envisioned for your eldest son will be the funeral pyre to all your sons." The boy declared in a hard tone. "They will nitpick every small fault of ours and make us adharmis in face of this kingdom. There will be civil war in our nation and even if they outwardky support us they will stack up the chances so it would be favourable to those Pandavas. I don't know if you can take the death of your hundred sons but I cannot bear to see my brothers dying before me. Because I'm not lying when I said I raised them."

Turning towards her, Suyodhana continued. " Amma,I promised you that I'll never cross any boundary that was drawn by you. You heard every argument put forward from my side. Even after all of this, if you order me to take the throne after all of this and I'll break my Dharma as a big brother and will place my name as the contender for the throne. I'm asking you to weigh all the possibilities and decide if it's worth it."

"The throne is not worth it Suyodhana." Both she and her husband spoke softly. When she raised her hand to tear off her blindfold, Suyodhana stopped her. "It's too late for you to do so amma. We are ready to start the brahmachari phase in our lives. You should have done this when me and my brothers were born. And me and my brothers stopped expecting anything from you long ago." Her decisions did this. Her choices alienated her from her sons and for now all Gandhari could do is to accept it.

"So Suyodhana... what do you want to do then?" Her husband asked him softly. "Because if we go down this path, you and your brothers will be branded as a cowards the rest of your life."

"In Gurukul, father I'll dedicate my body, mind and soul to be an excellent warrior. When my Gurudakshina will be completed, I'll wage a war against rest of Aryavartha. Keeping peace is difficult but calling for war is rather simple. Me and my brothers will win kingdoms on our own merits without even taking help from Hasthinapur's army."

"I accept your decision Suyodhana." Her husband declared with a heavy heart. "Vijayi Bhava." Both of them blessed him when he bowed down to touch their feet to take blessings.

"Suyodhana..." She ordered. "If that bastard dared to touch you and your brothers again... teach him." She snarled. Never again... never again will her children suffer because of her passiveness and her choices. Till today, she always thought like a queen who wanted good for her kingdom. Never again. "Teach him a lesson he will never forget in his life."

"I will amma." The voice was soft... but she heard the oath in it clearly.

Suyodhana always fought for the respect of the elders. He was a stubborn child. Even though all the mistreatment has occured, he would never turn his back because children cannot understand emotional abuse. They cannot understand rajneethi. They are not this wise. They needed to be taught these things and the emotional abuse needed to be pointed out. Kripacharya was friend of Mahaamahim and Vidhur, so he is ruled out. So the culprit must be the other person in Suyodhana's life.

The person who Suyodhana respected equal to her according to the words of the vaidhya. The person whose name is enough to cause shivers among the servants in the palace, Vasusena. Asking around the palace about him solidified the fact that this was the child who poisoned her child against Mahaamahim Bhishma and Vidhur. While he was certainly not wrong, a person carrying poison in his mind should not be around her child.

Yet for the respect Suyodhana had for this Vasusena, she would speak to him and give him a chance to explain himself.

So after the festivities to appoint Yudhistir as the Crown Prince have gone down... she summoned Vasusena to her chamber through Suyodhana.

"Pranaam... Devi Gandhari." The boy's voice was very pleasant to hear and it seems he bowed down to touch her feet. "Ayushman Bhava." She blessed him.

"Do you know the reason why you are here, Vasusena?" She questioned.

"You summoned me to ask me the reason why I have poisoned your child's heart against the elders of Hasthinapur." was the reply. 'Perspective child this one' She thought.

"Amma are you still supporting those...." "Suyodhana... stop." The boy ordered and surprisingly her son obeyed. No wonder the servants say that she and Vasusena were the only people his son respects.  "No mother wants a snake to sleep on the chest of her child. She wanted to see if I'm a snake or not."

"Everyone who met you say you are a brilliant child." She smiled despite herself. "Guess the rumors are not exaggerated."

"That's only one part of what they say about me, Devi Gandhari." The smile in his voice can be heard cleary. "I know my reputation well. I was called cruel, obstinate but highly intelligent person. The three natures which should never be present in one person. If I had a child I would never let him befriend such a person. So I understand your dilemma Devi Gandhari."

"So how will you prove yourself then?" She asked softly.

"For the next two minutes, if Prince Suyodhana, Devi Sughanda and yourself follow my commands without talking unless asked to talk, I'll prove myself." The boy stated boldly. Two minutes are not enough to prove one's character. But surprisingly she liked this boy despite all the rumors about him. So she agreed.

"Prince Suyodhana, I'll tell you something in your ear. Do it."

Even to her sharp ears, she could not make out what the boys are speaking. Suyodhana them took her hand and placed it on a object. "Do you know what you are touching, Devi Gandhari." Vasusena asked. "Just yes or no please."

Gandhari scoffed. She cannot call herself a shiva-bhakt when she didn't recognise what she has touched. "Yes." She replied. But this alone was not enough to prove his nature

"What did Devi Gandhari touch just now, Devi Sughanda?" Vasusena asked with mirth in his tone. 'Stupid question.' She thought. But the answer chilled her bones.

"You touched Vasusena's eye, Devi Gandhari."

She felt faint and her heart stopped for a moment. Because the boy's eye felt like a rudraksha. Suyodhana rushed to her in fear. She never knew when she collapsed but three sets of hands helped up to a chair.

"What did you do to her?" Sughanda snarled at the boy. Before he could reply she ordered. "Suyodhana and Sughandha...leave this room."

"Devi..." "Amma..." Both of them protested.

"I need to talk to Vasusena alone." She said her voice gaining strength. "Both of you leave."

"What did you feel when you touched my eye, Devi Gandhari?" The boy asked in a curious tone. "Did it feel like the mani on the forehead of Ashwathama? Or something else?"

"Why would your eye feel like mani on the forehead of Ashwathama, Vasusena?" She asked emotion filling her voice. "Do you really not know what your eye feels like?"

"I try not to poke my own eye Devi Gandhari." The boy replied. "All I know is that Parameshwar has touched these eyes and filled it with his energy." This boy claimed to see the Mahadev and was blessed by him. "As for why I mentioned Ashwathama... he's an avatar of a Rudra. So I thought my eye might feel similar to the mani on his forehead."

"How do you know all of this, Vasusena?" She asked softly.

"You might have asked about me in the palace, Devi Gandhari." He said after a few moments. "You might have heard that in pursuit of learning astras, I left Hasthinapur for Parashurama Kshetram and came back empty-handed wasting four years of my life." When she nodded, Vasusena continued. "That's a lie. I lied to everyone about what really happenedduring those four years."

"So what actually happened." She asked.

"I walked ten miles away from the capital of Hasthinapur on the banks of Ganga river." He started. "In a place where there is no civilization... I jumped into the river and sat down on the river bed. Then... I started to meditate chanting the name of Mahadev and Mata Parvati."

"So you started a tapasya without food, air and water?" She asked softly.

"For one year, even when crocodiles bit me, I didn't stop. With all my heart, all my mind, all my sould I prayed to the Mahadev and Mata Parvati.  Because I wanted to wield astras, I knew will be out of reach because of my caste, I worshipped them. I thought Mahadev who loved even the asuras enough to fulfill their wishes when they are devoted... wouldn't he hear this sutaputara's anguish?" The love for the divine couple was heard in his voice. "After one year... my faith was rewarded and I got their darshan. I asked them to teach me to the best of their capabilty. Mata Parvati said that wish will be fulfilled by her."

"You didn't just ask for the knowledge?"

"No. Because if I asked them for knowledge in few subject, that's all is what I get. Human knowledge is finite, Devi Gandhari. We sometimes don't know what we need. But if the divine couple are my teachers... well I will be knowledgable in everything that matters. Because they know what is best for me."

Small wonder Vasusena is this intelligent. He was already a bright child before his tapasya but after that he became one of the wisest person in this world. "They then took me to the place and I was trained vigorously in several things. The things I have learnt, the tests I have gone through... I never imagined out universe is so vast Devi Gandhari." The childishness and passion with which he spoke warmed her heart. "He said that my Guru Dakshina is if I ever find injustice occuring in front of me... learn why it happened and stand by the side of dharma.

Mahadev said that there are few things I need to learn which cannot be taught by him. So he said he'll arrange another teacher for me."

"Bhagwan Parashuram."

"Bhagwan Parashuram." Vasusena repeated. "But before letting me go... well Mahadev said his own boon was still not granted."

"What did you ask of him?"

"The things I learnt under the divine couple humbled me. But I felt that if I ever got too prideful of my knowledge, it'll lead to my downfall. So I asked him for a calm mind and discerning eye. Because both of them are crucial for a good life. Mahadev seemed to be pleased with my request... So he touched my eyes and blessed me with something which is both a boon and a curse at same time."

"How can anything that was given by Mahadev ever be a curse Vasusena." She shouted in anger.

"Your one hundred and one children are boons of Mahadev, Devi Gandhari. It didn't stop most people in this kingdom to view them as scourge on the clan of King Shantanu." was the blunt answer.

Those words bought a tear in her eye. "Did you ever see them as kul nashaks, Vasusena?"

"Not even for a single moment, Devi Gandhari." The absolute surety in his voice shocked Gandhari. "No child is born evil and no adult chooses to be a villain. Children are moulded by their experiences, Devi Gandhari. I was like this because of what I endured during my childhood. If the child turned out to be evil, it's the fault of people around him. When he grew up and does not regret his actions, it's his fault."

Overcome by emotion, Gandhari took Vasusena's face in her hands and kissed his forehead. "Thank you..." She cried.

"Anyway we went off the topic... my boon from Mahadev." He stated. "My eyes can see potential futures when I concentrate on a person. Mahadev called my eyes 'The Eyes that see Fate of the World'."

"That's..." The knowledge of future in the eyes of a child. No wonder he never told anyone about this.

"Most of the time it's dormant." The boy said calmly. "I try not to use the power granted to me because 'Knowledge prompts change, but change negates knowledge.' If I try to change something... the knowledge I gained will be rendered useless. When I used the power given to me by Mahadev for the first time before and that's the reason me and my family are ostracized in Hasthinapur."

"How?"

"I used it on Bhagwan Parashuram." Vasusena stated softly. "No one asked me why I rejected learning from Bhagwan Parashuram. The reason is because in any future I can see... Bhagwan Parashuram is the person who lays the foundation for my death."

Gandhari's heart started beating wildly. So that's the reason why the great sage was ashamed. But if he's reluctant to do so why... "It's his duty as Narayana avatar to do so, Devi Gandhari. I respected him a lot. Do you know I wanted to pose as a brahmin to learn under him?" The boy laughed. "In few of the futures I saw I did lie to him and got cursed to die like a dog. Only to learn that he knew all along and was waiting to curse me."

"So that's why you are cruel to him?"

"I certainly didn't act cruel towards him, Devi Gandhari. I told him I knew what his plan was and he's ashamed." The boy said softly. "I never got angry at him and even offered to get cursed if he felt insulted. I swear on my mother Radha that's the truth."

"So your family was ostracized because of a misunderstanding?"

"My attitude didn't help matters, Devi Gandhari." The boy stated in a self deprecating tone. "I'm too zealous in proving my innocence. I acted that way so that it'll piss off Mahaamahim and in his anger he'll lose his mind. I did that so because he's not willing to listen to reason. Because in his anger he'll make a mistake and I wanted to exploit it. Bhagwan Parashuram cannot say that he planned to kill me. And I respect him too much to let that fact come out. It'll tarnish his reputation and I'm unwilling to do so."

This boy is student of Mahadev and Mata Parvati. And he was treated cruelly by the entire kingdom. Tears formed in her eyes at the fate which led him to this condition. "So I decided to act this way. Like an arrogant and cruel person. People say I have killed Vinay and Varadha in cold blood. I did and I will not make any excuses for it. But all forget that if they behave similarly with any other officer, the punishment will be same. The same sheep will say that both of them are rebels so they have to be put down if they acted the same way in front of other officer. The problem lies in their mindset. The same goes for the wife of vaidhya. If slander is made against a Prince of a kingdom, the punishment is cutting off the tongue of the transgressor."

"Mahaamahim Bhishma ordered the death of my brother... an eight-year old boy because he studied the Vedas. Tell me are we both not cruel men? The difference is that he is Mahaamahim Bhishma and I'm just Vasusena. Both of us are cruel men don't deny Devi Gandhari. But in the eyes of the society, I'm cold-hearted bastard and he is a virtuous old man. The naked truth is that both of us are heartless men who are just doing their duty."

She cannot deny that. "Now let's get to the crux of the reason why you called me here. The reason why I poisoned Prince Suyodhana against the elders of Hasthinapur."

Gandhari grew alert in matter of seconds." Nearly an year ago I took Prince Suyodhana to hunt down a tiger that's terrorizing a nearby village. The reason why took him to that hunt was that he was extremely depressed. When I asked him why he is like that he said he and his brothers are hated by everyone around him. He asked me if it will take his death for the elders of Hasthinapur to love him."

So his anger started more than an year ago. "So I used this power for the second time on your eldest child. The future of your child has so many possibilities. In most of the futures, he and his brothers are killed just by a single person. Prince Bhimasena." The words chilled her heart. "But the root cause always traces back to the elders of Hasthinapur. I saw the love your child has towards the elders grew twisted due to jealousy and despite the mistakes were made on both sides... the current Narayana Avatar has branded your son as an adharmi and has all your children and your grandchildren killed on a war that occurred for 18 days. Prince Suyodhana lost everything in his life before dying brutally in the hands of Prince Bhimasena."

"Can you prove it, Vasusena?" She asked coldly.

"Before the war you asked Suyodhana to come to your room naked. Because you wanted to remove your blindfold and look at him. Because your eyes have possessed the strength of your tapasya. If you look at him, his body will turn as hard as diamond (vajra)." Vasusena was telling the truth. No one knew that she could do it. "Not willing to appear naked in front of his mother... Suyodhana wore a loincloth and the area around his thighs are not protected. Prince Bhimasena on the advice of Narayana avatar... broke the rules of war and hit him on his thighs to kill him. In your wrath...you have cursed the Narayana avatar that he will die and his kingdom will destroyed in thirty six years." She suddenly didn't like how the future sounds.

"I swear on Shivalinga that the only futures in which he and his brothers are healthy and alive are the futures in which he let go of the love he has for the throne and the elders of Hasthinapur."

"Oh..." She murmured.

"I told him only a small part of what will happen if he goes down this path. As I'm seeing with the power given to me by Mahadev activated, I can see he didn't tell you even half of what I told him."

"There's even more?" Gandhari wailed.

"You'll curse Prime Minister Vidhur and Mahaamahim Bhishma if you listened to our entire conversation, Devi Gandhari. In their moh for Pandavas, they prepared a funeral pyre for your hundred sons." Gandhari's hands shivered at those words. "Don't ask him. And I will not tell you our entire conversation. A Kingdom where a king cannot trust his own ministers is like a house built without foundation." So this is where Suyodhana learnt those words. "If you hear everything I have said to Suyodhana, the trust you have in them will be irrevocably broken. He has sense enough to not say it so please don't ask either of us. I broke his trust because the alternative is that he and all your sons will be sacrificed on the pyre lovingly constructed by the so called elders of Hasthinapur. If you wish to I'll tell you some of the futures where he is hale and healthy."

"Can you also tell me who the current avatar of Narayana is?" The boy agreed.

Suyodhana paced outside the room of his mother nervously. It has been half an hour and there is no word from either his mother or his friend.

His mother never did know that the royal physician was paid to act that way by him. Even though the injuries are true, the vaidhya lied to them before due to the cruelty of Vasusena on behalf of him. She never knew he caught the vaidhya in the act and blackmailed him to speak against Mahaamahim Bhishma to break the trust the monarchs have in him.

Till now all Mahaamahim Bhishma was guilty of is emotional neglect of hundred sons of Dhritarastra. Even when they are wounded, he never bothered to check up on them. The bastard who never had time for the Kauravas willingly delegated his work to others so he could play loving grandfather to those Kaunteyas. That was the worst wound the Mahaamahim of Hasthinapur has inflicted on his brothers. It was worse than whatever Suyodhana has conspired against him. He knew that the emotional neglect will grow more so he's nipping Mahaamahim's power in bud.

His mother will never knew that this is Suyodhana setting the chess board on fire. In his previous life, Mahaamahim and Prime Minister wielded a lot of power which allowed them to stack the board in favor of those Kaunteyas.

Now even though he does not want the throne of Hasthinapur... well he's not the kind to make it easy for those Kaunteyas. That bloody Bhimasena should pay for what he did to his family. Till now he's shackled by his mother's words. Now... now there are no strings on him that will make him dance in favor of those Kaunteyas.

In his previous life his Uncle Shakuni tried to teach him several things... guess few of those lessons stuck. For now he will be patient and see where fate leads him to.

After what seems like a lifetime... Karna came out of the room and said that his mother wanted to talk to him.

"Suyodhana... This is your elder brother Vasusena."She declared and he was floored by those words. He already considered Vasusena as his brother and it was a welcome surprise to him. "Obey him and love him just as your brothers love and obey you. Listen to his words and your heart, Suyodhana."

He didn't know what magic Karna has performed on his mother but the happiness filled his heart. "I will, amma." he said "I will."

Chapter Text

Pitamah Bhishma took him to the archery course after learning about his love for the weapon. He and his brothers took turns spending time with Pitamah Bhishma every day and today it's his turn. His brothers went to Sahodar Bhavan to play.

It took a bit of time for him to push past his guilt and look into the loving face of his grandfather whom he killed in his previous life. Even now sometimes all he could see was his Pitamah lying down on the arrow bed made by him and dying slowly day by day in pain. He made a woman who was turned into a man his shield and attacked his Pitamah. Keshav might have said that act is for Dharmastapana and has to be done but even today his Pitamah's face haunts his nightmares.

He shook off those thoughts. In this life, he has not yet committed that sin and he swore it'll stay that way. This Suyodhana does not have the strength of Vasusena and is a lot less temperamental and egoistic. To their surprise within four months they arrived back at the palace, Bharta Yudhistir was crowned as the Yuvaraja of Hasthinapur. Suyodhana himself has given up the rights to the throne to the surprise of everyone who knew him. So everyone was in high spirits and he believed that nothing could shatter this peace.

"Focus, my child is the base of archery," Pitamah told him lovingly. "Only when the mind is clear and the body is stable, the arrow can reach the target. Concentrate and release the arrow, Arjuna."

He could hit these targets with his eyes closed, from more than 5 times the distance he is standing from the target and in quick succession Yet to spend time with his grandfather, he took a few moments as if he's trying to concentrate and then released the arrow. It hit the bullseye.

Pitamah smiled kindly. "Pandu already started teaching you archery, didn't he?" The pillar of the Kuru clan lovingly smiled at him. "Why are you hiding your capability, Arjuna?" Busted.

The smile didn't wane. "If you are trying to pretend you are concentrating on the target move the arrow sometimes. You took a minute to release the arrow but your arms are steady and the arrow didn't even move a millimetre."

"You are so excited to teach me archery Pitamah." He smiled shyly. "I want to spend time with you. And I don't want to bring up sad memories by bringing up Pitashree, Pitamah."

Pitamah patted his head lovingly. "Alright show me your real capability, Arjuna."

Arjuna proceeded to hold back a bit but showed off as much as he could without rousing Pitamah's suspicion. The proud look on the face of Pitamah grew when he showed off his capability. His face glowed so much in happiness that it rivalled the sun. "You will grow up to be one of the greatest archers in this generation if not the strongest, Arjuna," he said proudly. "Even I'm not this skilled at your age."

Pride and happiness filled him with the praise given to him. Both of them spent the day in each other's company. Pitamah even in his previous life loved him deeply and nurtured him before his family went to learn under Guru Drona. He revered his Pitamah and killing him unjustly in the war broke his heart. This life ...with no war looming over them like a shadow, he soaked himself in the presence of his grandfather and listened to the stories he already heard with the wisdom he didn't have as a child.

Little did he know that the tranquillity would be shattered and the division of the Kuru clan would start on this day.

When he and his grandfather reached Sahodara Bhavan... the soldiers were pacing anxiously without regard for discipline. Pitamah roared at them and all of them fell into a line.

"What is happening here?" He asked the nearest soldier.

The soldiers gulped in fear and stood rooted on the spot. None of them dared to speak. As he and his grandfather were warriors, they could smell faint traces of blood in the room. "Saravana..." A tall lanky soldier with archer's build gulped when he was singled out by the Mahaamahim of Hasthinapur. "What happened here? And whose blood is that?"

"That blood belongs to Prince Bhimasena... Mahaamahim." The soldier replied without any waver in his voice. However, his eyes betrayed his fear.

"Who dares to lay hand on a Prince of Hasthinapur?" Pitamah was roaring mad. Even he too started to lose control over his anger.

"Prince Suyodhana... Mahaamahim." He replied.

That arrogant bastard. Arjuna snarled in his mind. He thought that Suyodhana had changed because there is no influence of Gandharraj Shakuni on him. Yet he dared to spill the blood of his brothers. "What happened here?" He growled. "Where are the rest of my brothers."

"Prince Suyodhana came here with that mad dog he calls his teacher," Sarvana spoke trying to hide the tremor in his voice. "He looked very normal... so we are not too worried. But then he challenged all the princes in wrestling."

"What? Why?" Pitamah asked in confusion. He too felt confused. Suyodhana was the person who decided not to fight with his cousins. He was the one who ordered his brothers not to fight their cousins. After composing himself... he spoke calmly. "What exactly happened here?"

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"Come and wrestle with me, Crown Prince Yudhistir." Prince Suyodhana spoke sofly. Prince Yudhistir looked up from his books and before he could deny it, Prince Suyodhana spoke softly. "Denial of an invitation to Dice, and a summon for war is an impropriety for a Kshatriya, Prince Yudhistir."

"But I'm not trained in wrestling Prince Suyodhana. I learnt basics of the spear from my father." The mortal son of Yama spoke softly. "But my anuj Bhimasen is talented in wrestling. You can fight with him."

"Or are you too scared to fight with me, Anuj Suyodhana..." Prince Bhimasena boasted flexing his arms.

"I too am trained in spear fighting by my friend Vasusena." Prince Suyodhana spoke softly. "I challenged Crown Prince Yudhistir, not you Prince Bhima. An archer should face an archer. A swordsman should face a swordsman and so on. So we will spar with wooden spears if that's acceptable to you."

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"Jyesta Yudhistir will always follow dharma. So he would have accepted the challenge." The guard nodded and continued. "

"It was then Prince Suyodhana's face turned became cold and hard." The guard spoke softly. "None of your brothers saw his face because he turned away from them but the hatred in his eyes made us take a step back. He then went to the weapon cabinet and pulled out two wooden spears, two practice swords and two practice axes. He gave the Princes their favoured weapons and beckoned them to follow him to the training grounds.

"The rules are simple. Either the other person has to be knocked out or declare his surrender." Prince Suyodhana stated.

"No bloodshed must occur in spars, Prince Suyodhana. If you spilt your opponent's blood in a spar, it shows that you lack self-control and you'll be disqualified." Vasusena added which made the Prince scowl a bit but nonetheless agreed to the terms. Prince Yudhistir too agreed to those rules. "And if you manage to knock your opponent out of the ring that too counts as a win."

The first challenge was spear fighting between the Jyest Pandava and the eldest Gandhari Nandhan. The fight was unexpectedly brutal. The younger prince hit the older one in his throat, with the butt of his spear, preventing him from crying out in surrender and kicked him to the ground. Suyodhan, then brutally proceeded to assault the fallen prince for the next five minutes, breaking both his hands and a leg. He then held the older prince by his hair and prepared to punch him.

"Prince Suyodhana...Enough." Vasusena ordered. Why on earth didn't the rotten bastard stop the Prince before no one ever knew? Prince Suyodhana glared at the suta who looked unflinchingly into the eyes of the prince. He then spit on the ground and proceeded to drag the elder boy out of the ring by his hair.

"Oi, Nakulaa and Sahadeva..."Prince Suyodhana's eyes now didn't even bother to hide his malice. The hatred in those eyes is clearly visible. "Will you guys avenge your Jyesta yourself? Or will you go crying for your mother to save you? " Prince Nakula and Prince Sahavdeva took sword and axe respectively and jumped into the ring their eyes turning red with anger.

"Did Suyodhana turn into a mad dog like that Vasusena?" Pitamah Bhishma growled. "Those poor children did nothing to him and yet he allowed them to be brutalized in his presence."

"Oddly enough Mahaamahim. All the fights have been stopped by Vasusena before the Prince could do permanent damage. " Sarvana stated. "Prince Bhimasena grew angered because Vasusena stopped him from helping his brothers."

"Coward..." Prince Bhimasena snarled trying to get out of Vasusena's grip. "Pick someone your size to fight with. You hurt my Jyesta. Today, I will tear you with my bare hands. You..." He roared at Vasusena. "Let me go you petty suta."

"Outside interference in duels is prohibited, Prince Bhimasena."Vasusena's tone was calm. "Prince Suyodhana issued a challenge to Princes Nakula and Sahadeva first. Don't break the rules of this arena."

"Oi Bhima..." Prince Suyodhana mocked lips curling into a sinister smile. "Don't worry. Today I will leave this place only after I break your pride. Your turn too will arrive."

This time Prince Suyodhana fought with a sword in his right hand and an axe in his left. The fight ended similarly as before. He assaulted both the princes who fought with him at the same time while looking into the eyes of Prince Bhimasena with a mocking smile without even bothering to look at the attacking twins. The highest form of disrespect any Kshatriya could give to other Kshatriya. Prince Bhimasena snarled in the arms of Vasusena trying to break free but unable to do so.

"Radheya..." Prince Suyodhana ordered. "It's time to teach this gluttonous pig a lesson. Release him"

In the searing heat of the training grounds, two figures squared off, their animosity palpable in the charged air that surrounded them. Prince Suyodhana showed off his mastery of combat techniques taught by Radheya who was well known for his brutality. His eyes showcased seething hatred that burned deep within his soul. Prince Bhimasena, a child with a heart of gold, his strength forged not just by muscle, but by an unyielding sense of righteousness stood across him.

Their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, each showing a profound disdain for the other. Prince Suyodhan moved with a calculated grace, his movements sharp and precise, every strike a manifestation of his festering resentment. Across from him stood his adversary, his resolve unyielding, his muscles coiled with a quiet determination born not of hatred, but justice for his brothers who are brutalized for no reason by this monster.

As the confrontation escalated, the battlefield became a crucible of rage and bitterness. Prince Suyodhana, driven by his animosity, launched a relentless assault, his blows raining down with merciless intensity. Yet, despite his proficiency, he found himself met with an unexpected resistance, his opponent Prince Bhimasena, fueled by a righteous fury, refused to yield.

In a moment of brutal clarity, Prince Suyodhana unleashed a final, devastating blow, leaving his adversary broken and battered, a testament to the depth of their mutual enmity. As the dust settled on the battlefield, it became clear that in their clash of wills, it was not just bones that were shattered, but the fragile bonds of family started to erode between them. Suddenly Prince Bhimasena started coughing blood and Radheya immediately stopped the match.

"You are disqualified since you have shed the blood of your opponent Prince Suyodhana." Vasusena declared. "Prince Bhimasena is the winner."

"I seriously don't understand that boy," Pitamah muttered to himself. "He says he never breaks any rules but he always supports adhrama. Should I applaud him for his dharma in following rules or should I kill him for supporting adharma I never know?"

Arjuna followed his grandfather to the physician's place. His brothers except Bhima are lying in their beds unconscious. Nakula and Sahadeva are moaning in pain unconsciously and his Jyesta whom he looked up to was crying in his sleep. Bhima despite having bruises all over his body with his hands and ribs fractured sat over his brothers' bed crying helplessly. His mother too was present there and was consoling Bhima by rubbing his shoulders.

Arjuna's heart melted at the sight of seeing his kind-hearted brother caring for his brothers despite being severely injured. But soon anger took over his mind. What did his brothers ever do against that evil Duryodhana in both their lives to suffer in his hands? Why after even giving up his throne Duryodhana is still torturing his brothers? And how on earth did that evil adharmi manage to beat all his brothers? Bhimasena was a very strong child and even his father had a difficult time fighting him. When will this world start to make sense again?

"Pitamah," Mata Kunti whispered. "Would you do me a favour?"

"Whatever you wish for my child, I'll do my best to fulfil it," Pitamah vowed softly.

"Please, make arrangements for me and my boys to leave for the forest. Here, in this palace, I can sense constant danger upon them. They would be safe in the forest. The Kauravas will be happy too if we leave." She said in a choked voice. Tears were falling from her eyes.

Pitamah Bhishma looked gutted at those words. And seeing tears in the eyes of his mother, his own eyes turned red. "No, my child... for this kingdom your son is the Crown Prince. So he has more right to this Kingdom than that son of Dhritarastra. You will stay with us, and your family and I promise you that Gandharinandhan will not go scot-free. Even Dhritarastra's putra moh will not save him today." He vowed.

"But Pitamah..." "Amma, we cannot go back to the forest after my brother is crowned. We will be dishonoured as ranchods if we run away without fighting. And Suyodhana spilt the blood of my brothers. He should pay for it."

When they reached the quarters of Kaurava Princes... they were stopped at the door by the guards. Despite shivering from head to toe, the guard refused to allow Pitamah Bhishma inside. "Sorry Mahaamahim..." The soldier stated with trembling knees. "But on the order of the King and the Queen all the ministers, you and Prime Minister Vidhur are not barred from the quarters of Gandharinandhanas. Vasusena will cut off our heads if he heard that we disobeyed the order of the king."

Why on earth did the king issue such an order? He respected Pitamah Bhishma a lot. "If you don't step aside I'll be the one who will behead you," Pitamah growled in anger.

"And I will gladly accept that punishment." The guard stated in a heartbeat. The hell... Vasusena was more terrifying than Pitamah Bhishma in the eyes of this guy? What the hell did he do to scare all the soldiers?

Pitamah's anger turned into surprise. "You are willing to disobey me and die in my hands than obey me and die in his? I'll protect you from him."

"Yes, Mahaamahim." The soldier replied without even batting an eye. "He said that only when we are dead, you should enter the quarters of Kaurava Princes. He said if we are alive and allowed you into the quarters of Kaurava Princes... there will be a charge of treason on our head and all our families will be executed. If we die at your hands only lives that will be lost are ours. But if we die at the hands of that monster... all our families will follow us into the grave. And you cannot protect me Mahaamahim. Vasusena knew the law of the land as much as you. He never lost in the court of law."

'That ruthless bastard...' Arjuna growled in his mind. "Please get permission from the king or the queen, Mahaamahim." The soldier begged falling at his feet. Pitamah's eyes showed grief for a moment before hardening immediately. He then marched to the quarters of Mata Gandhari and saw Vasusena guarding the door.

"I really should have beheaded that boy that day but stopped myself on the order of my teacher." Bhishma glared at the boy who was standing guard outside Mata Gandhari's room. "Sometimes I wished that Guru Parashuram had not stopped me on that fateful day. Now he poisoned the members of my family against me and in front of my eyes... my family is splitting into two."

There was almost half a kos distance from where both he and Pitamah were standing away from Vasusena. But it seems he clearly heard them and gave his grandfather a mocking smile. Arjuna's blood boiled at that smirk and Pitamah gripped his sword tightly in rage. 'That poison-filled snake.' Arjuna sneered in his mind. Jyesta, Nakula and Sahadeva are in the infirmary due to Suyodhana's wrath and the vaidhya has decreed that all three of them need at least six weeks of bed rest. Even Bhimasena got injured and had to wear a cast for five weeks. Suyodhana literally broke his arm in three different places.

"Please state your business... Mahaamahim." The arrogant suta spoke in a measured tone. Gulping down his anger, Pitamah stated. "I'm here to talk to Gandhari."

"On what matters... Mahamaahim." Even after seeing the wrath in both of their eyes, he continued without being bothered. "Matters of state or personal matters?"

"Pitamah have no obligation to tell that Vasusena," Arjuna stated in a chilly tone. "Just because you have the favour of Duryodhana... it doesn't mean you can interfere in family matters."

"By the order of King Dhritarastra... the ministers of the court including Prime Minister Vidhur, Kulguru Kripacharya, the relatives on both sides of the family and Mahaamahim Bhishma are barred from the quarters of the king and the queen, except for the matters of state, Prince Arjuna. The Princes' rooms are declared off the limits for everyone. The reason for the visit has to be informed beforehand so we can inform the King or the Queen who will decide if they want to speak with you. I don't care about your issues." Vasusena replied bluntly. "So give me the reason for your visit, Mahaamahim Bhishma so I can do my job."

Both are taken aback by the words. This declaration meant that King Dhritarastra and Queen Gandhari were cutting off ties with the rest of their family. Pitamah Bhishma looked disturbed at those words and his heart turned cold.

"We are here to talk about the behaviour of Suyodhana Vasusena." Pitamah Bhishma spoke after coming to his senses. "He assaulted the sons of King Pandu and landed all of them in the infirmary. He should be punished for his crime."

"So you are here to get permission to enter the quarters of the Princes then." Arjuna nodded. "But Prince Suyodhana is not in those quarters. He is in the army infirmary. There is no law that prevents you from visiting him there. Did none of the soldiers say that?"

Is this suta helpful or is he misleading them? Before he could process it... Pitamah started to march towards the army infirmary. "Pitamah... wait." He ran after him. "How can we be sure that he is not lying?" Pitamah stopped at those words but before he could say anything a kind voice spoke.

"Putra Vasusena..." A sweet voice was heard as Mata Gandhari walked out of her room with Sughada's (Yuyutsu's mother) help. On the other hand of the maid there is a large pot "Please can you take me to the army infirmary."

"Putri Gandhari..." Pitamah Bhishma called her. "Why are you going to the army infirmary?"

The calmness on the face of the kindest person Arjuna knew morphed into sheer loathing. "Vasusena, who is the man who is calling me his daughter?" The hatred in her tone squeezed their hearts. "My father died a long time ago and there are no people who are close enough to me to consider me their daughter. So who is the man who is calling me his putri?"

"Mahaamahim Bhishma and Prince Arjuna are here to meet you, Devi Gandhari," Vasusena replied like the asshole he is. For that, his ears got twisted by the queen. The familiar action which mixed love and reprimand in equal parts made both him and Pitamah understand that Gandhari too fell under the spell of Vasusena.

"You arrogant little suta..." Bhishma growled and pinned him to the wall by his throat. "You poisonous snake. You have poisoned my family and divided us for your hatred."

"How dare you lay your hands on my son, Mahaamahim?" Gandhari shouted. "After all you have done... how dare you lay hands on one of my sons, Mahaamahim Devarata."

"Putri..." Pitamah's eyes turned moist. "Just by the words of an outsider will you go against your family? I'll kill him on this very spot and accept any punishment you give me."

"All of my family except for my sons are dead, Mahaamahim Bhism. Don't tell me you forgot that." The cold words crushed their soul. "My husband himself decided to sever ties with his family. Both me and my husband are orphans, Mahaamahim. 

You, your devaputras, the Queen mother and any of your relatives are no family of mine. It was said a good friend is greater than a brother, Mahaamahim. Vasusena is a good friend of my son. He is like his older brother. And the brother of my son is my son." She declared. Even with her blindfold on her glare seared their souls.

"Just because your husband decided to sever ties doesn't mean you are not my daugh..." "Don't you dare call me your daughter Mahamaahim. Don't you dare. All I am is a temporary queen you are saddled with till your favoured grandson ascends the throne. Nothing more nothing less. And my husband severed ties with you on my request." Arjuna's hands started to shiver. Mata Gandhari who loved them severely in his previous life wanted nothing to do with them. Even when her sons are against them she gave blessings so that only Dharma will win. What is happening?

Pitamah Bhishma wiped his tears and hardened his heart. Vasusena was looking over the proceedings emotionlessly. "Why are you here Mahaamahim Bhishma?"

"Prince Suyodhana assaulted Princes Yudhistir, Bhima, Nakula and Sahadeva without any provocation. Vasusena here stood as a referee over the match. You can ask him what happened. All four of them are hospitalized with severe injuries. I'm here as the Mahaamahim of Hasthinapur putr..." His voice choked a bit at the glare shot at him by Gandhari. "...Queen Gandhari. He is to be punished for his crime."

"Follow us then..." She stated before giving one of her hands to Vasusena. "Putra... take me to the army infirmary."

"Devi... can you give me a moment?" Vasusena asked in a kind tone. When she nodded, he turned towards them and his face hardened "Mahaamahim...This is the second time you have assaulted me without any evidence. 'A kingdom where a king cannot trust his own ministers is akin to a house built on sand—destined to collapse under the slightest pressure.' is what I believe. Whatever quarrel I have with you, I will never speak bad of you with Queen Gandhari and never speak a lie about you to the Princes. I'm willing to swear on Shivalinga that this is nothing but the truth" Anger made Vasusena glow and both he and Pitamah took a step back in fear.

Taking a deep breath he then took the hand of Mata Gandhari and led her towards the army infirmary Sughada followed them in the back with the pot of food. When they reached the healing quarters Vasusena called out Prince Suyodhana and placed the hand of his mother and stood as a guard near the door.

Duryodhana sneered at him and Pitamah. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be nursing your dear devaputras Mahaamahim?" Mata Gandhari who advised them to respect the elders always didn't reprimand her son and it shocked both of them. Not even bothering to listen to his words he guided his mother into the room.

Thinning his lips in irritation, Pitamah entered the room. The sight paralyzed him and Pitamah was no better.

"Bharta Suyodhana..." Sama spoke cheerily. "See Pitamah came to see us. He never came before. He must be too busy. But he came to us today. There must be some love left in him for us, right?" It's not his words but his body that shocked him and The boy's body was covered in bandages exactly like Sahadeva's. Pitamah's hands started to shiver. Because even in the places uncovered the body was filled with bruises.

"He's here because I hurt Bheem, Anuj," Suyodhana spoke sarcastically. "Don't get your hopes up. See how he's shocked by looking at you. He didn't know what happened before coming here. Mahamaahim..." he stressed" ...is here to punish me. He doesn't have love for us and will never care for us. Never get your hopes up. That way you'll never be disappointed."

There are twenty beds in the infirmary filled with the injured Kaurava Princes. Five of them are unconscious. Five of them sported injuries similar to Yudhistir, five of them have wounds like Bhima, five of them like Nakula and five of them like Sahadeva. What the hell happened here? Pitamah collapsed on a chair.

"What happened to all of you?" Pitamah asked in a strangled tone.

"Please don't act Mahamaahim." Suyodhana sneered. "By gods please don't act like you have no knowledge."

"Poutra..." Pitamah started to have tears in his eyes. "From the very first week your dear devaputras are here, we hundred brothers are trashed by your sweet devaputras. Tell me you don't know Mahaamahim. I dare you."

"I thought you guys were rough-housing poutra," Pitamah stated with tears in his eyes. "I never knew."

"Never knew, Mahaamahim?" The anguish in the tone of Gandhari felt like hot coals pressing into his heart.

"The first time the vaidya came to you about the injuries inflicted by that devaputra..." the sheer loathing in the face of Suyodhana made Arjuna remember the man who grew up and turned into a bitter man whose only joy of his life was to do adharma. "...you said that the boy just lost his father and is lashing out. You told him not to blow this out of proportion which will lead to his punishment. I was there, Mahaamahim Bhishma. I was there."

"I didn't know, poutra," Mahaamahim whispered in horror. "I didn't know you were that hurt."

"Of course, you didn't know. If you have ever bothered to come and visit us when we are injured... you would have known." The hatred in his eyes made his Pitamah bow his head down in shame. "If you at least have listened about the injuries we have sustained... you would have known. But no... the great Mahaamahim of Hasthinapur does not have time for the children of the puppet king. He only has time for the children of King Pandu."

"And what did you really expect by the way? Hmm... scratches and bruises?" Suyodhana smiled mockingly. "Bhimasena is stronger than most adults and does not control his strength too much... If you had come and seen the condition we brothers are in... you would have known our suffering. If you saw us the first time we are injured... you would have reprimanded that fat buffalo. Then my brothers would have not suffered this much. Instead, he took your silence as a blessing and tormented us more."

"You must be lying..." Arjuna spoke in a horrified tone. "Bhrata Bheem always tussled with us. He never hurt us this badly. He is a very kind person."

"You and your brothers are bloody devaputras, Indranandhana." Suyodhana snarled in a bitter tone. "You can bear the so-called roughhousing. Me and my brothers cannot. Vayuputra.... is a kind person, really?" He sneered at both of them. "Then Vasusena must be a saint of the highest order. Because even at his highest cruelty he never tried to kill a child by drowning him for no reason other than his own amusement."

His brother did what? Arjuna screamed in his mind. He cannot imagine his kind brother doing any of this. Even when he grew up he wasn't that cruel but when he was a child, not a chance.

"Bhimasena did what?" Mahaamahim uttered in terror.

"He tried to drown us Mahaamahim," Sama spoke with eyes filled with betrayal. "If not for Bhrata Suyodhana and Vasusena, we would have died last week. He even bore insults because he tried to save us."

"Till today... till today I never raised a hand against those devaputras." Suyodhana spoke in a dangerous tone. "These injuries my brothers got are just from yesterday in the hands of the pig you call 'a golden-hearted child'. There have been several cases like this before. Mother... I heard that our father has decreed no one from his side should meet with us. So what the hell are they doing here?"

"Mahaamahim Bhishma came to me about a matter of state, Suyodhana." Mata Gandhari spoke softly without any emotion in her voice. "The Princes of Hasthinapur are brutally assaulted in your hands. So he wanted to punish you it seems."

The entire hall was silent for several moments before Sushashana started to laugh loudly. "Parameshwara..." He said between his laughter. "You don't care if we hundred brothers are beaten black and blue till we coughed blood... but one time your priya devaputras are hurt you turned into a frenzied bull?"

"Bhrata Sushashana..." Vikarna tried to rebuke his brother but even a deaf person can hear his heart is not in it.

"No..." Sushashana spoke time but this time all his mirth disappeared. "Don't stop me anuj. You were not the only person who didn't believe in Bhrata Suyodhana's words. He warned us, didn't he? He told us there was no love for us left in their hearts. He said that, if the Panduputras beat up black and blue they will ignore it but once if we even dare to touch the hair on their heads we will be branded as adharmis. He told us but we are not ready to accept it. But today his words proved to be true, didn't they?"

"Poutra..." "Don't call me your grandson, Mahaamahim. Don't you dare." Sushashana snarled.

"You have only five grandsons. You only have two nephews King Pandu and Prime Minister Vidhur. You have only one daughter, Rani Kunti. Your actions showed exactly where we stand. So don't you dare... don't you dare call me your grandson, Mahaamahim. I felt jealous of them you know?. Till now I thought that there was something wrong in our behaviour... but today it was proven that you are just a partial old man who stood in favour of his grandsons against the children of two orphans."He snarled in anger. 'Why have I ever respected you and fought for your love?"

"I have been in this condition two times before, Mahaamahim," Saha spoke with tears in his eyes. "All our brothers except Suyodhana have been in this condition. Yet you never came to visit us. I just thought you were busy. How much time did it take to confront us when your dear devaputras got hurt? Less than half a day? Bhrata Suyodhana left us only for two hours today in the morning. The rest of the time he is with us. It took you less than half a day to come like a mad elephant to punish Suyodhana for his deeds. So why did you never try to punish Vayuputra for hurting us?"

"Because they are devaputras and we are kulnashaks in their eyes, Saha." Suyodhana snorted. Mata Gandhari clenched her fists in anger. "Love covers a hundred sins... but hatred makes even virtue look like a vice."

"He loved those devaputras you see. He loved them so much he'd clear his schedule to play house with devaputras." Sneering at the pillar of Hasthinapur, he continued. "I'll prove it here itself. Let's play a game shall we?"

"All of you here including you Arjuna, raise your hands if Mahaaahim Bhishma ever praised you at least once in your life?" None of their hands except Arjuna's went up. "How often does he praise you Arjuna?"

"At least once per day." He replied

"OK, what about spending time with you?" Still, the hands except Arjuna's remained low. Suyodhana raised his eyebrow. "Every day at least for half an hour Pitamah spends his time with us."

"Ok, at least a kind word?" Their hands remained the same. "No need for you to answer Arjuna."

"Ok, what about trying to teach you anything kindly? I meant kindly... not coming like we have insulted his ancestors and punishing us for whatever crime we supposedly committed." Crickets can be heard in the room.

"And here he cleared his schedule so that he could spend time with those devaputras. He is teaching each of them their favoured weapons." Pitamah wilted under the look given to him by Gandharinandhan. "We have to beg to get scraps of whatever those devaputras are given freely and abundantly." All the Kauravas bowed their heads but Arjuna could see their remaining love turning into betrayal and then hatred.

Pitamah Bhishma started to cry at the accusations thrown at him. Is this true in his previous life too? Did the Kauravas live without the love of anyone except their parents? Did Bhrata Bheem really torture the Kauravas in his previous life? Arjuna doesn't know what is happening around him.

"It's not like that..." he wailed. "Pandu just died recently and these children just lost their father. Please understand."

"My children's father is blind and I foolishly blinded myself due to my vow." Mata Gandhari considered her vow to be the greatest offering of love given to her husband. "They never had anyone to look over their well-being. Have you or Vidhura sat down with my children and taught them? Has even a sliver of pity formed in your heart for my children?" The voice was soft but the anguish in her face was heartbreaking.

"Your children have chased away all the caretak..."

"Of course, they chased them away." Mata Gandhari cried. "No one taught them manners. No one tried to understand them. Even servants sneered at them openly because they took your silence as the stamp of approval. Like a blind man leading another blind person... my son raised himself and his brothers not knowing what is right and what is wrong. They don't know how to behave because no one ever taught them. Me and my husband are too busy in the administration of our kingdom and the rest of your family not even caring for them just because of the words of Prime Minister Vidhur.

I too am the culprit in this. I willingly blinded myself and could not see the dark path my sons were going down. But you..." The anger melted into anguish. "... you so-called dharmatmas didn't even care for my sons after you have declared them as kulnashaks. You haven't even tried to teach them what is right and what is wrong. Oh, you scolded them but you never taught them why their deeds are wrong. But really me and my husband are the ones to blame.

We trusted men who declared my son should be thrown into the forest as feed for beasts when he is less than a day old. What kind of fools are we to trust such callous men? What stupidity entered our mind that we placed the lives of our children in their hands?"

Is this what his cousins have experienced in their previous life? Did Gandharraj find his cousins this vulnerable and thirsting for love? No wonder Duryodhana became a complete puppet in the hands of Mama Shakuni. Suyodhana's behaviour, his ethics and his nature are moulded by Gandharraj.

"Gandhari..."

"After all you have done, you dared to lay a hand on my Putra who tried to lead Suyodhana in the right path, Mahaamahim. You might call him adhrami and cruel... but at least he tried."

Suyodhana looked puzzled for a few moments before recognition lit in his eyes. "Vasusena..." Suyodhana crushed the handrest and stood up. "You dared to lay hand on my Bhrata?" The wrath in his eyes made him look like an enraged elephant. He then walked outside and dragged Karna in.

"Mata said that Mahaamahim tried to hurt you. Are you in need of any medical help, Bhrata?"

"He just held me by my neck, Little Prince. I'm not injured in any way." Vasusena tried to placate him but his words had exactly the opposite effect on Suyodhana.

"Why did you lay hands on my Bhrata, Mahaamahim?" When Pitamah stood silently, Suyodhana snarled. "I'm asking you who are you to lay hands on my brother?"

When his grandfather and even Vasusena stood silently, Suyodhana turned towards his mother. "Amma can you tell me why?" He asked politely.

"Mahaamahim accused Vasusena of trying to break our family because of his hatred," Gandhari replied. "He didn't know Radheya promised me that he'll always try to keep you and your brothers on the path of dharma."

Pitamah staggered in disbelief. What kind of a joke is this? Everyone who heard about Vasusena can confidently say when he grows up he'll be a cruel monster. How can a blind man lead another blind man? How can an adharmi lead another adharmi into dharma?

"My brother..." the love in his voice for Vasusena can be heard even by a deaf person. "... is the one who is breaking your family, Mahaamahim? Really? Your family is always united Mahaamahim. Prime Minister Vidhura always follows your lead. Rani Kunti was loved by both you and your nephew. Your five grandsons are adored by the kingdom. So when did Vasusena ever involve himself in your family?"

"My actions might have shown otherwise... but Suyodhana, I loved all of you." Pitamah cried. No wonder the Kaurav sena never bothered to listen to their elders except Shakuni in his previous life. "Please believe me."

"What do you call a body without a soul, Mahaamahim?" Vikarna asked softly. Pitamah looked at the boy in confusion but nonetheless answered. "A corpse."

"That's exactly what a love without action is, Mahaamahim." Pitamah's face fell. "A corpse. Your love for us is a rotten-smelling corpse." Folding his hands as if requesting for alms he begged. "We don't want it anymore, Mahaamahim. And we will no longer fight for it. I don't know about my brothers but I want us to be nothing more than strangers. Please leave us and let us be."

Vikarna was the person whom Keshav himself considered to be the Kumbhakarna of Kauravas. Not in strength, but in moral compass. A person who knew his brother was wrong and tried to lead his brother to dharma. And when he failed to change his brother, he willingly laid down his life for him. The only one in the Kauravas who respected the elders and followed Dharma. If Mata Gandhari and Vikrana too got broken, then this family is fractured completely.

"Oh, he cannot leave, Vikarna." Suyodhana sneered. "Knowing him, I can bet a hundred coins that he gave a vow to Rani Kunti that I'll be punished for laying a hand on his priya devaputras. Am I wrong, Mahaamahim?" Pitamah could do nothing more other than to nod mutely. "Gungadutta Mahaamahim Bhishma will never break his vows."

"Bhrata Vasusena..." Suyodhana turned towards the child in question. "I don't trust anyone to be fair and impartial except you. According to the law of the land... what is my punishment?"

"Bhrata Suyodhan... you cannot be serious." All the Kaurav sena shouted. Even Mata Gandhari looked distressed.

"Let's not flout the laws of the land as long as we live here." Suyodhana stated in a blunt tone with a small smile on his face."So Bhrata Vasusena what is my punishment?"

Karna did have a reputation for never breaking rules. So his answer stunned everyone except Suyodhana. "None, Prince Suyodhana."

"What?"

"Prince Suyodhana is not yet three and ten years old. According to the law of the land we cannot punish a child who is less than that age. They have no understanding of their deeds." He stated and took a deep breath. "However... the one who should be punished is myself."

"Bhrata Vasusena what are you saying?" Sushashana screamed and this time Suyodhana was frozen in shock.

"Prince Suyodhana issued a challenge to the Princes. According to the rules, only bruises and scratches are allowed. No blood should be drawn and no bones are to be broken. If bones are broken more than once due to excessive aggression, the person should be whipped according to the position he occupies. If you drew the blood of a Brahmin, you will receive 10 lashes and 15 lashes for breaking a bone. Same for a Kshatriya. But for princes, it is double the number of lashes and for crown prince, it is five times the amount." Karna stated the nyayashastra perfectly. "If the proctor of the match does not stop the match immediately he will receive the same punishment."

"However since you are less than three and ten years old." Vasusena continued softly. "So whatever punishment you are to receive, it'll be mine to bear because you are my responsibility."

"This cannot be happening." Mata Gandhari said softly. "You allowed it on my order." Mata Gandhari ordered what?

"Whatever the order is, Devi Gandhari, the law.... is final." Karna stated, "It is equal for the farmer who tills the land and it should not change even for the King who sits on the throne."

Suyodhana shouted desperately. "You knew that didn't you? You told me I wouldn't be punished if I stopped when you told me to. You never told me... I would have left those bastards alone if you were the one who would be punished. You lied to me."

"Devi Gandhari ordered you that if your brothers are hurt by Prince Bhimasena again... you should teach him a lesson he would never forget, Little Prince." Karna smiled softly. "If you knew... you'd dishonour her words and would have left them alone. I didn't lie my Prince. I just didn't tell you the whole truth. A mother's wish should never be ignored."

What is it about Suyodhana that made Vasusena so loyal to him? What was their foundation of friendship that made them love each other so deeply? Arjuna remembered Krishna's words. If there is a friendship from this yuga that will be remembered in history, it will be Krishna and Sudama's, his and Krishna and the friendship between Karna and Duryodhana.

"If I have not issued a challenge your punishment would be halved." Suyodhana cried."Why? Why did you do that? Why did you take double the punishment."

"I promised Devi Gandhari that I'll try my best to never let you walk in the path of adharma, Little Prince." Mata Gandhari smiled with love filling her face."If you attacked them without any provocation..." He took a deep breath. "...and if you attacked them outside their weapons of choice, it'll be revenge, not justice. Revenge is adharma, my Prince. Justice is dharma. In a challenge, I can keep you from going too far. I allowed you an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth and a limb for a limb. Nothing more, less yes, but nothing more."

Karna smiled cheerfully. "After this... none will fight each other. Because from what I know about Mahaamahim... he'll order Bhimasena to stop tormenting you. You and your brothers too would see justice served and it'll cool down your anger. What is a small punishment compared to all of that, my child?"

"A small punishment, Bhrata?" Suyodhana cried. "It's not a small punishment. You are getting punished for me."

"Then whenever you get any ill-feeling at your cousins... be it anger, be it jealousy and be it hate. Remember me." He said softly. "They too are your relatives Suyodhana. A brother fighting a brother is never good for the family."

The smile got wiped off from his face when he turned towards Pitamah. "Prince Bhimasena has a broken rib which caused him to cough blood, two broken legs and an arm broken in three places. Prince Sahadeva has a broken leg and two broken arms. Prince Nakula had one broken arm and two broken legs. Prince Yudhistir too has similar injuries to Prince Sahadev but after the fight, Prince Suyodhana showed extreme aggression and tore off the roots of his hair. So in total 1010 lashes. You must be very angry with me for insulting your gurudeva, Mahaamahim. You should be the one to flog me so you could get some of your anger out of your system."

"So Bhimasena will go scot-free?"

"As long as a child is not punished... I don't care about anything other than the safety of you and your brothers, Little Prince." Karna must have loved his brother very much. If the memory of his brother is enough for him to love Suyodhana this deeply... how much does he actually love the real one? 

 In this life, his principles revolved around never hurting a child. Keshav once said that Vasusena was a man of strong principles. Arjuna never saw that side till today. If a man like this stood on the side of dharma in his previous life... Arjuna really wished he could have seen it.

Bhimasena was punished and Pitamah took an oath from him that he'll never torment his cousins anymore. He then accepted his wrongdoings and tried to ask for forgiveness from Kauravas. But none of them even bothered to listen to his words or accept his apology. They ran away when they saw him. Same with his other brothers. Nakula and Jyesta were hurt by their actions but it's not like he and his brothers could blame them for that. Mata Kunti tried to apologize on their behalf but Mata Gandhari closed off both doors and her heart on the face of their mother.

Pitamah Bhishma cried that day and the melancholy didn't leave his face even when they and their cousins left for Guru Drona's Ashram. It was said that he always tried to enter the quarters of the King and the Queen but was turned away every day. He never forgave himself after that day. 

Vasusena's punishment was doled out by a soldier under Pitamah. He said he couldn't do it with his own hands.

Vasusena never cried even for a moment during the punishment it seems. What punya did Suyodhana perform in his previous life to get a friend like that, he never knew. But one thing was sure. As deeply as Vasusena loved Suyodhana... Suyodhana too loved the suta back just as deeply. Vasusena might be filled with poison, it's understandable but the love he had for Suyodhana is true.

Chapter Text

On the outskirts of Hasthinapur, Vasusena's field

A small, petite woman with delicate features watched her son till the fields, her gaze filled with a mixture of admiration and sorrow. These past few years have seen their family's strength and resilience tested like never before.

It had started with the tragic death of her son Shon at the hands of those Brahmins, followed by Vasusena's heart-wrenching suicide attempt which had shaken the very foundations of their family. His recovery had been slow and painful, marked by his enlistment in the army at the insistence of his husband. He reasoned that time away from the house and doing things her Vasu loved would take his mind off his brother. After completing the army training she was forced to accept another painful separation from her son.

Radheya, her beloved son, had left Hasthinapur to learn the Astras, the weapons which are allowed only to be wielded by Kshatriyas and Brahmins. He left Hasthinapur for four years in search of a teacher. Everyone around them laughed at their family for her son's apparent foolishness.

He came back after four years and told everyone he didn't find a Brahmin to teach him. But no one knew that even if Radheya had claimed to the townspeople that he hadn't learned anything significant, it was not the complete truth. He had confided the truth only to his immediate family.

As she was returning from the market one warm afternoon, a pair of large, warm hands suddenly covered her eyes. Despite the surprise, Radha felt no fear; there was a familiar kindness in the touch.

Those hands... she knew them well. How could she not know them? They belonged to the one who had brought her the joy of motherhood. For this child, though not born from her womb, her body had responded as if he were her own flesh and blood; her breasts had swelled with milk, and her heart had expanded with love. The light of her life, her Vasusena, was back in Hasthinapur after all these years of strife and separation.

"Vasu..." she whispered, tears forming unbidden in her eyes as emotions swelled within her chest.

Removing his hands from her eyes, Vasusena, now a tall and broad-shouldered young man, stood before her. He wiped away her tears gently and then bowed to receive her blessings. "Ayushman Bhava, my child," she uttered as she raised him up and enveloped him in a tight embrace.

He had changed in the years he had been gone; the boy who had left was now a teen on the cusp of manhood, with a presence that seemed to light up the space around him. The grief that had shadowed his departure, driven by the loss of his brother Shon, now seemed to have lifted. His smile was radiant, transforming his features into something both majestic and tender. It was a smile that spoke of trials overcome and inner peace found. Radha's heart filled with joy and relief, seeing him not just alive but flourishing.

"It has been four years, Amma," he said, his voice a warm baritone that resonated with strength. "Yet, you managed to recognize me by just my touch."

"Four years or forty, a mother's heart knows her child," Radha replied, her voice thick with emotion.

Hand in hand, they walked towards their home, a simple structure that had housed more than its share of sorrows and joys. As they approached, Adhiratha, Radha's husband and Vasusena's adoptive father, came out to meet them. His eyes filled with tears as he embraced his son, his relief palpable.

The younger children, who were toddlers when Vasusena had left, peeked curiously from behind their father. They didn't remember their older brother and stared at him with shy curiosity. Vasusena greeted them with a gentle smile, then reached into his bag and pulled out a handful of sweets he had purchased at the market. Their initial hesitation disappeared as they gathered around him, eager for the treats and the attention of this new, intriguing brother.

Amidst the laughter and chatter, Vasusena noticed the newest member of the family, a toddler with bright eyes and an infectious giggle, playing at Adhiratha's feet. "Who is this?" he asked, his voice softening as he scooped the child into his arms.

"This is Chitrasena," Radha answered, watching them with a tender smile. "Born two years ago."

"He looks like Shon, Amma," Vasusena said, his voice catching as he pressed his forehead against the little one's. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he smiled through them, the light of the sun playing in his expression. "I missed the birth of my brother."

Radha reached out to touch his arm, feeling the muscle beneath the skin, hardened by years of training and battle. "He is named Chitrasena," she said softly.

The name seemed to bring Vasusena both joy and pain, a reminder of the brother he had lost and the life that continued in his absence. Holding Chitrasena close, Vasusena seemed to find a piece of the brotherly connection he had lost with Shon.

As the afternoon waned into evening, the family gathered inside the modest living room, the walls bearing witness to the history and heartaches of the family. Once the younger children were sent outside to play under the watchful eye of a neighbour, Radha and Adhiratha sat down with Vasusena, the air thick with unspoken questions and concerns.

"Are you truly alright, my son?" Radha asked, her voice laden with worry. "It has only been four years since you left Hasthinapur. Finding a guru willing to teach a suta how to wield Astras is no small feat. And even if such a teacher exists, could he possibly impart all his knowledge in such a short time?"

Vasusena's smile was gentle but held a firmness that spoke of secrets held too long. "I completed  my training, Amma," he said quietly, surprising them both with his confidence.

"Who was willing to teach you, Vasusena?" Adhiratha interjected, his tone sceptical. The idea that anyone could master all forms of warfare in a mere four years was almost beyond belief. If Vasusena had truly found such a teacher, it would mean his training was only partially complete, or worse, that he had been dismissed early.

Vasusena's expression turned serious, and he looked at her and her husband with a gravity that stilled the room. "Before I tell you more, I need an oath from both of you," he began, his voice low and earnest. "Whatever I share must stay within these four walls, never to be spoken of to others without my consent. Remember how Shon was killed just for listening to the Vedas and reciting them? It's unlawful to harm a child, yet those beasts killed him cruelly without any hesitation." The anger in his eyes made both of them take a pause. "If those bastards knew the extent of my abilities and my knowledge, our entire family would be at risk. I am capable of defending myself, but you, the children, cannot withstand their wrath."

Both of them exchanged a look, a silent communication of decades of shared life in marriage. Then, nodding solemnly, they agreed to his terms.

"I didn't leave Hasthinapur to find a teacher, Amma," Vasusena continued, his smile returning, softer this time. "I knew our society's rigidity all too well. No teacher would impart the knowledge of Astras to a suta, not willingly at least. So I chose a different path."

Adhiratha's face paled, a father's fear for his son evident. "You didn't lie about your caste to gain your education, did you, Vasu?" he asked, the worry clear in his voice. Radha's heart chilled at the question.

The thought had crossed Vasusena's mind, clearly reflected in his honest eyes. "It did," he admitted. "But that would have been both foolish and dangerous. If my lie had been found out, I would be cursed or put to death. It might be an easy path, amma. But no, I didn't choose that path."

Relief washed over her and her husband, alleviating some of their darkest fears. Desperation could lead even the noblest souls astray, and they had dreaded the thought of their son walking down that path succumbing to his desperation.

Instead, Vasusena's next words brought a sense of awe and disbelief. "I travelled to the outskirts of the city and engaged in severe tapasya to seek the favour of Parameshwara," he revealed, his voice imbued with a reverent humility. "I endured hardships, fasting without food and water, praying that he would grant me his blessings."

"And did he, Vasusena? Did Bholenath himself become your teacher?" she asked, her voice trembling with hope and astonishment.

"Yes, Amma," Vasusena replied, his face alight with an innocent joy. "Parameshwara, in his infinite grace, appeared before me. He accepted my devotion and accepted my plea to be my teacher. I gained the knowledge of Sashtras, Shastras, Rajaneethi, Dharma and many other things, at his feet. My faith was not misplaced amma. I can happily proclaim that I learnt from the best teacher in the entire world."

Tears of joy and relief streamed down Radha's cheeks as she absorbed the magnitude of what her son had achieved. Bholenath, the destroyer among the trinity, had seen fit to bless their son with his teachings. It was a sign of divine favour so profound that it momentarily lifted all burdens from her heart.

From that day forward, the entirety of the household steadfastly maintained the lie that Vasusena had journeyed to Mahendragiri and returned without acquiring any significant skills. He joined the army alongside his father, taking up the role of a charioteer. This semblance of normalcy persisted for a few uneventful months until the day Sage Parashurama arrived unexpectedly at their doorstep. The nature of the conversation between Vasusena and the revered sage remained a deeply held secret, yet its aftermath plunged their family into unexpected and profound turmoil.

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When it became apparent that Vasusena was the source of Lord Parashurama's deep grief, she found herself reprimanding him sharply for the first time. His actions had inadvertently made them social outcasts, and her heart was weighed down with a mix of anger, disappointment, and fear.

"Father, you were present in the royal court during my trial, weren't you?" Vasusena asked, maintaining a calm demeanour that contrasted starkly with the palpable tension surrounding them. "Do you recall the questions I posed and the precise answers that Lord Parashurama provided?"

Her husband's memory of the events was vivid and clear. "Lord Parashurama himself admitted that I spoke no lies and did not insult him in a fit of anger. If the truth offends him, how can that possibly be my fault?"

"You told Lord Parashurama that learning from him was akin to a goat trusting a butcher," Adhiratha said, his voice laden with frustration and disbelief.

She gasped in fear, her heart skipping a beat. Her Vasu said what?

"Sage Parashurama conveyed these exact words to Mahaamahim Bhishma, didn't he?" Vasu asked with a slight, knowing smile. "Father, do you truly believe his words?"

"I don't know what to believe anymore, Vasu," his father replied, his voice cracking with emotional strain.

"Do you genuinely believe that Sage Parashurama is telling the whole truth?" Radha interjected, her voice laced with desperation and concern.

"He is an incarnation of Vishnu, Radha. We must believe him," Her husband said solemnly, clinging to his faith.

"Sage Parashurama claimed that I uttered those words, didn't he?"

"Yes, Vasu. But why? Why would you say such a thing to Lord Parashurama?"

"If Sage Parashurama himself acknowledged that everything I said was true, then my words must hold truth. He swore in front of Shivalinga that I haven't uttered a single lie, father. However, not everyone can understand this," Vasusena explained calmly, his voice steady yet filled with an underlying pain.

"Whether he lied or spoke the truth, trusting him is as perilous for me as a goat trusting a butcher. Because if I said those words, then by his own admission, he's intent on killing me. If he lied and I didn't say those words, he has set the entirety of Aryavartha against me, marking me as adharmi, and a target for many."

"What are you implying, Vasusena?" she cried out, overtaken by fear.

"Guru Parashuram didn't want to take me as a disciple without any consequence, Amma." Vasusena said, his tone light but his eyes betraying the sadness in his heart."I would receive half education from him. After that, he'd engineer unfair circumstances where I would be cursed by him no matter what I do."

She and her husband shuddered, unable to comprehend the gravity of their son's words. "Is this true, Vasusena?" Radha asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Vasusena simply nodded, the weight of his secrets apparent. The question of why the great sage would desire his death lingered heavily in the air.

"There are things I wish not to burden you with," Vasusena bowed his head. "Please do not press me further. Up until now, I committed only two adharmas. One is that I was the cause of sorrow to Lord Parashurama. The second one is something I can never reveal to you because it will lead our family to ruin. I have a boon from Parameshwara which allows me to see the future if I wish to. But today that boon brought suffering to our family. But I request you not to grow hatred in your hearts against the great sage. He is bound by his duty to do so."

"Vasu..." Her husband embraced him tightly.

"Entering knowingly into a trap from which I cannot escape is akin to suicide," Vasusena's voice cracked as tears welled in their eyes. "And suicide is a adharma. But to avoid that adharma, I have inadvertently plunged our family into this abyss. The children might not forgive me, but... please please forgive me, Amma."

Radha's heart broke hearing her son's heartfelt plea. Within weeks of Sage Parashurama's visit, her husband fell ill. Vasusena stepped up, joining the army full-time to provide for the family. He also dissuaded his siblings from enlisting, promising to train them himself. Given their precarious societal standing, she and her husband agreed without hesitation.

Three months later, Vasusena purchased a vast field on the outskirts of Hasthinapur, where the family resettled. These days, his closeness with Prince Suyodhana meant he spent more time at the palace than at home. Today, however, he had a day off and was out in the field, tilling the soil, under the watchful eyes of his mother.

Radha saw her child's turning alert abruptly before he relaxed. He immediately halted his work, cleaned himself slightly, and then urgently requested all the family members to go inside. The children obeyed his advice unquestioningly, but she lingered, questioning him about his sudden tension.

"We are about to have a guest here, amma," he explained. His tone suggested that this guest was not the tax collector, the only visitor typically permitted into their quaint home. This was someone whom her child did not welcome but had to do so. However, as far as she knew, no one could ever cross the boundary line drawn by her son. Seeing the question in her eyes, her son gave her a soft, reassuring smile.

"Amma... I drew Lakshmana rekha around our house," he said, his smile turning bitter. "But the Lakshmana rekha will never stop Sri Rama Chandra."

Sri Rama Chandra signifies a Vishnu avatar. The arrival of a Vishnu Avatar to other houses would have been a joyous occasion as the Vishwadhipathi is arriving at their house. But to this house, it meant a potential death sentence for the eldest son of the house. "Guru Parashuram?" she questioned anxiously.

Vasu shook his head. "The current Vishnu Avatar, amma."

Footsteps approached, and just outside the boundary her son had drawn, a teenager appeared.

Standing there, right outside their humble home, was a boy whose presence was so striking, it bordered on the surreal. His skin was dark as rich mahogany but carried an inexplicable warm blue undertone, reminiscent of a starless night sky. It glowed softly in the dim morning light, giving him an otherworldly aura. White dots were painted on his browbones and cheekbones, and a U-shaped tilaka shone like distant stars against his skin. Adorned with golden earrings and a necklace, holding a flute in one hand, he wore a bright yellow dhoti and a red angavastra.

Though not particularly tall, especially compared to the people in the palace, he carried himself with an elegance and composure that suggested a maturity beyond his apparent years. A vibrant peacock feather was neatly tucked into his dark, curly hair, adding a playful yet regal touch to his overall appearance. His eyes, large and expressive, radiated calm and knowledge, seemingly harbouring endless stories and secrets. This boy, with his unique features and serene demeanour, stood silently, his lips curved in a gentle, reassuring smile. His presence exuded no threat, only a profound sense of peace that enveloped the surrounding space.

"Won't you invite me in, Vasusena?" The enchanting boy's voice soothed the raw edges of her heart, bringing her contentment for the first time in many days. His very presence calmed her soul.

"I don't need to invite you, Keshav," her son replied in a clipped tone, which quickly extinguished the budding happiness in her heart. He had previously mentioned that it was this Vishnu avatar's duty to eliminate people like her Vasusena. Was he here to kill her child? "The entire universe is yours."

Proving her son's words true, the beautiful teenager effortlessly crossed the Lakshmana Rekha drawn outside their house. "Amma... please go inside," he requested solemnly. "He's here for me."

"Vasu..." Bile rose in her throat, as she wasn't ready to lose her child at such a young age.

"What did you tell her to be so terrified of me, Vrisha?" The current Vishnu avatar, Keshav, complained in an irritated tone, though a hint of playfulness underlined his words. Vrisha? He referred to her son as Vrisha, a name meaning a person who is truthful in speech, observant of vows, kind even to foes, and devoted. Why would the gods want to kill such a child? "You do know that I was not the one who was destined to kill you," he added. Those words comforted her slightly, indirectly confirming that he wouldn't harm her child for now.

"Amma, bring the butter we have stored," Vasu requested. Turning towards the current incarnation of the preserver, he asked, "You once said you wouldn't eat at the house of an enemy because you don't want to grant him any favours. Would you eat at this enemy's house, Vasudeva?"

Keshav's lips thinned in slight irritation. "You considered me your well-wisher, Radheya."

"And you considered me to be the trunk of Adharma and the final obstacle in the path of Dharma," her son responded, smiling nonchalantly.

"I did," the peacock-feathered deity agreed. "So you no longer consider me your friend, then?" His gaze made it clear that any offering was unnecessary.

"I don't consider you as an enemy at least. It would be foolish to do so," Vasu retorted. He then looked at his mother, signalling her to leave them to their privacy. Both men then walked into the field, away from prying eyes and ears, to continue their conversation.

"You do know that lying to one's parents is a sin, don't you daanveer?" Devakinandhana spoke to him conversationally, the faint hint of amusement playing at the edges of his voice.

"An extra punishment of 'Sulaprotham' will be added to the long list of punishments I am to receive when I reach the abode of Yama, Keshav." He replied in a sarcastic tone, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as if mocking the weight of his own words.

"Bholenath taught you very well." Krishna sighed a note of respect and perhaps a trace of sadness weaving through his words. "You have changed a lot, Karna."

"Why are you here, Padmanabha?" Speaking to Krishna for an extended period of time is not something he likes to do these days. Despite everything, he did respect him a lot. But extensive interactions weren't conducive to his goals in this life, so he cut straight to the point, his gaze piercing and direct.

"You are angry, Vrisha." The eighth incarnation of Narayana spoke in a soft tone, his voice calm and steady, attempting to soothe the charged atmosphere. "I am one of the people who wronged you the most. So I'm here to make amends."

Karna was not impressed by those words and it showed on his face, his expression stiffening as his eyes remained locked with Krishna's. "Amends? A potter won't ask forgiveness from the clay, Keshav." The words spoken were harsh but his eyes remained soft, betraying the inner conflict. "Niyathi has moulded me into the person I am. You are just doing your duty. You are the one who said one should never ask forgiveness for doing one's duty. So tell me really... why are you here?"

"The same reason why I came to you that day. To request you to fight on the side of your brothers, Vasusena." Krishna's reply came with a gentle yet firm insistence, aiming to reach the heart he closed off for anyone except for his dearest friend.

Karna smiled softly at those words, the irony not lost on him. "I'm fighting on the side of dharma, Madhav." He replied confidently. "After all, I did promise Adiyogi that I would never fight for adharma, didn't I?"

"And yet you have decided to fight on the side of Suyodhana," Krishna spoke scathingly, his tone shifting as he addressed the deeper, more painful parts of their discourse. "You decided to raise weapons again for his sake. You would have your parents believe that Parameshwar was the first god you called upon, but that's actually a lie. You called Anjaniputra and received Brahmastra from him to kill Shakuni. He was currently innocent, and yet you killed him in cold blood."

"There are not many sins I wouldn't commit for Suyodhana, Vasudeva." His smile turned cold, a chill passing through his words. "I decided to kill the Gandharraj and wanted to lay down my weapons. Because I am Suyodhana's arms and Gandharraj Shakuni was his mind. I thought if Gandharraj and I were not by his side, he would grow up to be a decent person without poison in his heart. I foolishly killed him, but Amitvikram showed me the futility of my actions. So from that day onwards... I started to plan."

"Bajrangbali should have never revealed that truth to you," Krishna lamented, a frown crossing his divine features.

"He did, and because of that, we have to turn into co-workers, Krishna." Vasusena grinned, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "We don't have to be friendly for our job to be done. Just have to respect each other enough," Krishna was confused. He didn't like Vasusena in his previous life and he could sense the feeling was mutual. Why on earth is Vasusena calling both of them co-workers?

After removing the armour from his body, Vasusena began to internalize and hum the Hanuman Chalisa, devoting his entire being to the praise of Bajrangbali. This act wasn't apparent to others and even his parents misconstrued his refusal to eat or drink as mourning for his brother, unaware that he was actually engaged in deep spiritual chants, hoping to invoke the divine presence of the servant of Sri Rama Chandra.

Surprisingly, in less than one month of his fervent chants, Amitvikram manifested before him in all his divine majesty. 

This was peculiar for two primary reasons. The first reason is that it typically takes several years of severe penance for such a deity to respond to one's call, yet Amitvikram had appeared before him in less than a month.

The second, and perhaps more striking reason, was that Anjanisuta would typically avoid causing any difficulties for a Vishnu avatar. However, his wish was likely to create numerous obstacles for Vishnu's avatar. Under normal circumstances, he might have approached another god for assistance—perhaps even his father, Surya, who would have been sufficiently powerful to fulfil his wish.

Having resolved to never engage in battle again, Vasusena found himself with no need for his armour and earrings. Yet, these items, being divine gifts, could not be easily disposed of; none of the gods seemed willing to accept the Kavach and Kundal as offerings, primarily because they were the property of Surya dev. Vasusena harboured a deep loathing for Indradev and was unfamiliar with other deities who might take these items off his hands. Only Bajrangbali would likely agree to take them since doing so was aligned with the plans of the Vishnu avatar.

Standing before him was Hanuman, whose imposing figure exuded divine strength and robustness. His skin glowed the colour of burnished copper, reflecting his fiery dedication and celestial origins. Muscles flowed under his skin like rivers of power, each movement demonstrating his exceptional physical strength and agility. His face, framed by a thick mane of dark hair, bore deep-set tawny eyes that shone with wisdom and compassion. A vermilion tilak on his forehead marked his spiritual mastery and devotion. Draped in a simple saffron cloth, Bajrangbali managed to radiate humility despite his formidable appearance. His tail swayed over his head in lazy patterns, signalled his readiness and perpetual vigilance. Adorning his ears were earrings crafted from an amalgamation of gold, silver, iron, copper, and tin.

With a gesture of deep respect, Vasusena bowed before him. In a voice filled with kindness, the companion of Sri Rama prompted him to request a boon.

"I seek the knowledge of the Brahmastra—the method to wield it and the technique to recall it. I ask for this knowledge to be used for just one hour. In exchange, I request you to take these armour and earrings and return them to my father," Vasusena stated earnestly.

Karna was uncertain whether his request would be granted. He desired to use the Brahmastra to eliminate Gandharraj Shakuni, whose influence was pivotal in the unfolding political saga that was steering towards a great war. For the war to proceed as foreseen, Shakuni's presence was crucial. By removing himself and Gandharraj from the equation, the progression to war could be halted, contradicting the strategic plans of Krishna, which relied on the war's occurrence. Thus, he was apprehensive about whether the Monkey God would acquiesce to his request.

Hanuman, without a moment's hesitation, imparted the knowledge necessary to wield the Brahmastra. However, in the heart of Vasusena, a seed of doubt grew. Life is not easy or fair for him. Others would have felt blessed by their good luck but life taught him severe lessons which made him weary of easy paths. So decided to test the Lakshmanapraanadaata.

Instead of directing the Brahmastra at Shakuni, he aimed it towards Devi Rukmini, the chief consort of Krishna, while loudly pronouncing her name and observing Bajrangbali's reaction. Strangely, there was no sign of the intense fury typically displayed by Hanuman whenever harm threatened the happiness of his lord. There was anger in his eyes, yes, but there was only helplessness which is not something usually in this Mahaveer.

Devi Rukmini is revered as the incarnation of Mata Lakshmi. Her previous incarnation, Devi Sita, was extremely significant to Anjanisuta. Bajrangbali, who held Devi Sita, along with Rama and Lakshmana, in his heart, showed anger but not the ferocious rage expected under such circumstances. Why was this so? The successful deployment of the Brahmastra would certainly result in her death. In his previous life, just because he hit Krishna with an arrow, it provoked Bajrangbali to a formidable rage, necessitating Krishna himself to intervene and pacify him. Yet, here he stood, seemingly helpless. What was the explanation for this anomaly?

His test was done... so Vasusena quickly retracted the Brahmastra before it could leave the vicinity of Hathinapur, casting a puzzled glance at the servant of Sri Ramachandra. Something was profoundly amiss in this scenario. With his extensive experience, he recognized that possessing only partial knowledge was exceptionally hazardous. Upon the retraction of the Brahmastra, Raamesht appeared relieved, yet his eyes betrayed a hint of pity.

Unwilling to linger on uncertainties, Karna strung another arrow and this time released the Brahmastra towards Gandharraj as he approached his sister's chamber. Upon impact, Gandharraj's body disintegrated, leaving only his head, which tragically fell at the feet of his sister, Queen Gandhari.

Once again, only pity was visible in the eyes of the devout follower of Rama. "May I inquire why you gaze upon me with such pity, Pavanaputra?" Vasusena asked softly.

"You are a mere mortal attempting to defy destiny, Suryaputra," Anjaniputra responded gently. "Your intentions are for your friend's sake. Nonetheless, no matter your actions, the future will only remember Suyodhana as the epitome of Adharma. Both of you will be remembered for the deeds enacted in your previous life. Your efforts, Vasusena, are ultimately in vain. Niyathi is immutable."

Karna, suppressing his burgeoning anger, stared intently at the most formidable of Vanaras. "I am no longer participating in the war on Suyodhana's behalf. With no Gandharraj to corrupt his thoughts, I have already altered Niyathi, Uddhikraman."

"Reflect on these ancient words, Vasusena: 'Bhrama rasina aa raatanu aa Brahmane cherupaledu,' and 'Shivuni agnya lenidhe cheemaina kuttadu,'" the deity stated, his eyes filled with pity as he vanished from sight.

(The first adage translates to "Once Brahma writes someone's fate, even he cannot alter it." The second means "Without Shiva's command, not even an ant can bite.")

Chilled by these ominous declarations, Karna trembled. A deity would never lie; they might obscure truths or mislead, but never would they outright lie. What crucial piece of the puzzle was he missing?

"Those words sent you into a frenzy, Vasusena," Krishna spoke, his voice gentle, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Because throughout this lifetime, your primary aim has been to alter the fate of Suyodhana. So, you have now decided to confront even Parameshwar in your effort to change his destiny. Your loyalty to him is deeply profound."

"I'm merely fulfilling my dharma as a friend, Madhav," Vasusena sighed softly, his tone laced with a mix of resignation and determination. "In my previous life, I failed in every duty related to Suyodhana. I'm just trying to win where I previously lost, Keshav. Whatever failures haunted me in my past life, I am striving to rectify them now. Every dharma that I failed to perform then, I am determined to fulfil in this life."

"So you have raised your arms again."

"A man who is incapable of war has no right to ask for peace, Keshav," Karna replied, his smile blithe yet containing a hint of sadness. His eyes, however, were hard, reflecting a warrior's readiness to embrace the path that lay ahead.

In less than nine months, Vasusena completed the exhaustive education traditionally imparted to the sutas. His parents, driven by a mixture of compassion and a glimmer of hope for his future, steered him towards enlisting in the formidable army of Hasthinapur at a remarkably tender age. Despite his youth, he possessed a comprehensive understanding of the teachings typically disseminated during training.

However, the arduous task ahead involved moulding his physique to execute the demanding feats expected of a warrior. This physical metamorphosis proved excruciating, especially due to the removal of his kavach and kundal. Because the appropriate remedies were not done properly, the aftermath left his chest and back adorned with a tapestry of grotesque scars. 

Nevertheless, spurred on by the pressing urgency of time, h e pushed forward, swallowing his pain and discomfort as the fate of his friend hung precariously on his actions, compelling him to act swiftly.  There is not much time left before his brothers arrive in Hasthinapur. Before their arrival, he strove to change the fate of his dear friend.

Immediately upon completing his rudimentary training, he lied to his parents that he would make a journey to Mahendragiri to study under the esteemed Sage Parashuram if he accepted him as his student. Departing from the capital, he embarked on a week-long trek along the riverbank before submerging himself in its depths to commence his rigorous tapasya.

Oddly enough, even though his penance was severe, the divine couple Parvathi-Parameshwara materialized before him in less than a year. This usually was not the case.

As he immersed himself in rigorous tapasya, one day he was pulled out of the womb of the second wife of Maheshwara. On opening his eyes, the divine couple, Parvathi-Parameshwar, appeared before him, manifesting a harmonious blend of destruction and compassion, emblematic of their dual nature.

Lord Shiva, the Adiyogi, stood majestic and formidable, his presence marked by a serene yet potent energy. Cloaked in a tiger skin, which symbolized his dominion over both the primal and spiritual realms, his skin emitted a soft, unearthly glow. The crescent moon nestled within his matted locks cast a serene light across his tranquil visage, and his third eye, a beacon of divine wisdom, glowed subtly yet fiercely.

Beside him, Goddess Parvathi radiated with grace and benevolence. Her attire, rich with vibrant colours and intricate patterns, spoke of life and the nurturing aspect of the universe. She stood as a pillar of strength and support beside Shiva, her gentle expression a stark contrast to his stern countenance, yet equally commanding respect and reverence. Her presence complemented Shiva's austerity, bringing warmth and accessibility to the divine encounter.

Together, their presence was a powerful display of the universe's dual essence—creation and destruction, austerity and abundance, serenity and intensity. The air around them vibrated with the sacred chant of Om, resonating deep within his soul. This encounter with Parvathi-Parameshwar was not merely a visual experience but a transformative one, elevating his spiritual journey to a new realm of consciousness.

Although grateful for these divine manifestations, he found himself grappling with confusion. Many devout yogis dedicated their entire lives to seeking divine darshan yet remained bereft of such experiences. He couldn't fathom why he, not particularly renowned for his devotion, was bestowed with these divine visitations. Despite his bewilderment, he opted not to question his good fortune and humbly bowed before the Trilokanatha.

"Except for immortality, my child, ask for anything," the Adiyogi's voice resonated softly.

"Please, can you alter the fate of my friend, Bholenath?" Vasusena pleaded with the destroyer of the trinity.

"You have already changed the fate of your friend in this universe, Vasusena," Pasupatha responded calmly.

He was flabbergasted at those words. Bajrangbali has said that Niyathi is immutable. However, Parameshwar is saying that Niyathi has already changed due to his actions. Either one of them must be lying, because both statements cannot turn out to be true at the same time.

"Neither I nor Pavanaputra are speaking a lie, Vasusena," Chandraprakash spoke in a serene tone. "Both these statements are true. Find out the way why both of them are true and then come to me."

After a week of introspection, Vasusena returned to beseech his boon. "I want to change the fate of my friend Suyodhana in a way that does not necessitate the destruction of this universe in your hands, Pasupatha."

Because if Niyathi had already changed, the only reason why people would remember Suyodhana as evil would be if this universe will be destroyed. Maheshwara said that in this universe, Suyodhana's niyathi has been changed. But the only way people would remember him as an adharmi would happen only if this universe is destroyed.

And the only God capable of destroying a universe is Bholenath himself.

Shiva smiled at those words. "That's not my duty, Vasusena. That's your duty. You can't ask me to do your duty."

Keeping a calm mind, Karna then spoke. "So then teach me how to do this duty, Adiyogi."

"Very well," Gangadhara spoke smiling softly. "I have a condition. I will show you the entire story surrounding the war. After you have seen it... I'll ask you a few questions. Answer them right... I'll give you whatever boon you ask for. Answer them wrong you have to leave this place with whatever boon I give to you without a complaint."

After he agreed to those terms, Lord Shiva placed his hand on Vasusena's head and poured all the memories of the lives of everyone who participated in the Kurukshetra and the people around them. After assimilating all the memories sent into his head, he fell to the ground panting in pain.

"Are you ready, Vasusena?" Mahakala asked in a hard tone. When Radheya nodded, Parameshwar asked his first question.

"Who is the greatest warrior after Krishna in the war?" Without any hesitation, Karna answered "Arjuna." "Why do you think so, Vrisha?"

"A brave man dies once, a coward dies a hundred times." was the answer. "Arjuna was the greatest warrior because he never felt fear and never retreated from any battle. He always won whenever he fought. The help from Krishna made him powerful yes but Krishna himself chose him as his instrument. That alone shows his proficiency."

"Who is the most dangerous person who participated in the war that made the downfall of Kaurav Sena a forgone conclusion?" Karna took his time to answer this question. He took some time answering this question but he couldn't find anyone who made the death of Kaurav Sena a foregone conclusion.

"Sahadeva." was the answer. Bholenath smiled and asked him to elaborate.

"Yato Dharma Tato Krishna Yato Krishna Tato Jaya," Vasusena spoke softly. "Where Krishna is there is Dharma. Where Dharma is there victory will be present.

The Kaurav Sena lost the war because they were outwitted by a child who was less than ten years old.

Sahadeva had come upon this profound knowledge quite by happenstance. During a moment of profound existential meditation beside the dying body of his father, he noticed ants emerging from the carcass, carrying bits of wisdom in the form of flesh. Consuming these ants, Sahadeva absorbed this esoteric knowledge, an act which transformed his understanding of the universe and his place within it. Aware of the weight of the knowledge he possessed, Krishna, foreseeing the implications it could have on the war, granted him a boon."

Pasupatha continued to smile warmly, the pride in his eyes unmistakable. "The boon Sahadeva asked from Krishna was deceptively simple yet profoundly impactful. He got the promise from Krishna that he would always remain by the side of his Pandava brothers. Moreover, he added a condition — if any of his legitimate brothers were to fall in battle, Krishna himself would have to immolate himself.

With this single boon, Sahadeva not only ensured direct protection by the avatar of Vishnu but also cleverly guaranteed the victory of his siblings. This boon cleverly tied the fate of Krishna to that of the Pandavas, ensuring that the side of dharma, the side Krishna represented, would inevitably be theirs. 

Thus, a ten-year-old child ingeniously secured the victory for the Pandavas. By having Krishna on his side, that their deeds would be always seen as Dharma and his brothers would be forever celebrated as paragons of virtue in the annals of history. Foolish child, he never knew the cost of his promise"

"I said that you are the person who is chosen to change the fate of the people who fought in the war." Mahadeva hummed softly. "So tell me Vasusena, why are you chosen?"

What kind of a question is that? How on earth is he supposed to give an answer to this? "This is a difficult question... so take your time and answer, Radheya. The answer lies in the weapons."

Weapons? The answer lies in weapons?

Vasusena mentally catalogued all the weapons in his mind. He then wrote down all the effects of all the astras he saw being used. He scrambled his mind for a very long time till he finally understood the answer. It took him a week but he managed to find the answer.

"I was chosen because Phalguna killed me using Pashupatastra." He answered in a humble tone. Shiva smiled. Vasusena has passed this test.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Nagabhushana inquired, his voice laced with a soft, curious undertone.

"Because the rest of the tridev weapons are contradictions to their nature.

Brahma is revered as the creator within the Trinity, yet the use of Brahmastra results in the death of another, unless they possess a countermeasure." Karna began, his tone was reflective and analytical. He continued,

"However, the true essence of his personal astras can be seen in Bhramashira Astra. When deployed, it devastates every useful resource within a specified vicinity, rendering the land barren, unable to support even a single blade of grass. Furthermore, it is foretold that no rainfall will bless the land for twelve Brahma years (equivalent to 37.32 trillion human years) drastically worsening the climatic conditions. Ultimately, the Brahmashira Astra's deployment results in total annihilation.

Bhrama the creator wields an astra dissimilar to his very nature. His weapon is opposite of his domain- destruction."

Karna shifted his focus, "Even the Vaishnavastra represents a paradox to its creator. Lord Vishnu, the upholder of dharma, demands adherence to rules for righteous living.

But if one cannot counter the Vaishnavastra, the only recourse is to disarm and surrender, an act fundamentally against every principle of warfare unless you are willing to surrender to your enemy. This weapon also kills by eroding the spiritual merit of its target—ironic, given that Lord Vishnu typically rewards spiritual merit.

Even the Narayanastra shares this paradox, the more you fight for your side, your death is certain. Vishnu is the custodian of rules, but his weapon is a maverick that encourages breaking the rules of war." Karna reflected, his gaze distant.

Pashupatastra... no one knows what it does except for the fact that if it is used on lower-level warriors the entire universe will be destroyed. Those were the words spoken by you. But the law of the universe does not work that way. Mass or energy can neither be created nor destroyed. So when a person is hit by Pasupatastra... the old universe will be hung in balance by you and compare it with the new universe.

You are the destroyer of the trinity. But all the personal astras of the trinity are in contradiction to their nature. Pashupatastra, your weapon is the creator of a new world. Without destruction, there is no creation.

You along with Mata Parvathi and Mata Kali have dominion over time. The person who is hit by Pasupatastra will be given another chance to change their niyathi...

Karna's voice softened, "However your words cannot be rendered false, so you would obliterate a universe overwhelmed by sin. You'll balance both the universe's future sin and destroy the universe which has more sin.

Thus, if I seek to change my friend's fate, I must ensure this world harbours less sin in future than the one before. I was set up for failure. How can my actions possibly rival the sagacity of a Narayana avatar?" A smile tinged with helplessness crossed his face, revealing his understanding of the daunting challenge he faced, all within an illusion that would ultimately be shattered by Shiva.

"Till now, many have walked this path, Vasusena. Indrajit, Ravana, Drona, and Bhishma, among others—they all faltered, each in their own way. Yet, you are the first to understand this truth. By chance you are the first to advance this far," Maheswara's response was devoid of emotion as he spoke, his gaze piercing.

"People venerate us without truly understanding us," Maheswara continued, his tone imbued with a hint of lament.'" Even we, the tridev, are not without a dark side.

Brahma was the creator of both Devas and Asuras. Because of him, I was called Adhibhikshuvu.

Vishnu usually resorts to deception to achieve his ends, and I, despite my frustrations with Vishnu's trickery, often let it pass. I along with Bhrama are perceived as a deity unbiased towards Devas or Asuras, yet when we grant boons to Asuras, they always contain a loophole for Vishnu to exploit.

Sometimes even when I knew they were deceived by Vishnu, I ended their lives because we choose the greater good over the lives of few."

"I offer chances even to Asuras to see if they can transform their destinies," Shiva's voice softened, hinting at a profound sorrow for the misunderstood. "Those familiar to you—Bhishma, Drona, Ashwatthama, even Suyodhana—had their opportunities in alternate universes. None grasped the essential truth of existence. Because if had they done so, I wouldn't need to obliterate their universes.

This task I have given you is not hopeless, believe me. The solution is simple to grasp but arduous to execute. Many before you, blinded by ego, believed they understood more than they did and carried on with their lives without knowing why the chance was ever given to them. This allowed adharma to spread unchecked in those universes and I had to destroy it.

They failed to see beyond their narrow perspective, mistaking temporary victories for lasting success, never questioning the reason behind their second chances. Unlike them, you stumbled upon this knowledge by mistake and have progressed this far," Shiva's gaze was intense, probing.

"You are the first to truly understand the implications of my weapon and the burdens it imposes. Now, knowing all this, do you intend to give up?" Shiva challenged.

Vasusena merely smiled bitterly, an acknowledgement of the effort required. His work was akin to a ram endeavouring to topple a mountain—daunting, yet he was prepared to strive until his final breath.

"You have summoned both me and Devi Parvathi. What boon do you seek from us?" Shiva inquired, his demeanour gentle yet imposing.

"Grant me a calm mind and a discerning eye, Maheshwara," Vasusena requested quietly, his voice imbued with a profound yearning for wisdom and clarity. Shiva, responding to this plea, placed his right hand over Vasusena's head and his left hand over his eyes, blessing him profoundly.

"You shall surpass all in wisdom across Aryavartha, second only to Krishna. No illusion shall ever ensnare your mind, and with your intellect, you will absorb knowledge swifter than any mortal.

You asked for a discerning eye, so you will behold potential futures at will which will help you in taking the right path." Pinakapani proclaimed, his voice resonant with the power of his divinity.

"Remember, Vasusena," Shiva intoned gravely, "A man carves his destiny through his deeds, yet these deeds also steer the actions of the gods. Choose wisely, Vasusena."

When Devi Parvathi queried about his boon from her, Vasusena requested that both deities to guide him as teachers. He spent a year in their divine presence, absorbing wisdom at their feet. They imparted to him that the final mastery he must achieve was over his ripus (internal enemies). Shiva assured him that another teacher would be sent to aid him in this endeavour.

During the time he learnt under Shiva, he understood there was only one way to change their Niyathi. He planned out the future to the best of his capability and understanding. But all of that got messed up when Sage Parashuram was sent to him as his teacher.

In his anger and ego, he messed up. Because whatever has happened in his previous life, he should have more control over his anger and ego. If a person is cruel it doesn't mean you too should be. You are to be defined by your actions, not theirs. Lord Shiva had ordered him to gain more control over his ripus and he failed in that task.

That night Parameshwar came to him in a dream and berated him.

"You have failed your test, Karna," Parameshwar spoke to him in a disappointed tone. "I sent Lord Parashuram to you to see if you have gained control over your anger and ego. You have failed Vasusena."

"That was a test, Prabhu?" He asked in a bewildered tone.

"A test you failed miserably." was the reply. "If you had politely refused him, I'd have considered not punishing you for that transgression. But you mocked him by laughing at him in your ego and hurt him in your anger. Your anger was justified but that's no reason to take it out on him."

He bowed his head down in shame.

"Anyway if one fails a test he must receive a punishment," Shiva spoke softly. "You failed this test due to your anger and ego. So your punishment will come in the form of two obstacles. One will be filled with anger, the other will be filled with ego." Bholashankar declared. "I hope you will succeed in overcoming those obstacles, Vasusena."

"The obstacle filled with ego is my mitra Suyodhana and the obstacle filled with anger is my Anuj Arjuna," Vasusena sighed deeply, a weariness lining his voice as if the weight of the world pressed upon his shoulders. "As if I don't have enough headaches already."

"Well, you should have controlled your anger and ego better then, Vasusena," Krishna responded, his tone light and teasing, a mischievous sparkle briefly dancing in his eyes before his expression turned grave. "You are, after all, the first person who found the answer to wielding Pashupatastra."

"I even found out how to prevent Shankara from annihilating this universe," Vasusena replied, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "I just need to adhere to the blueprint you have crafted for us, Keshav. You are here for the purpose of dharmastapana. For this grand restoration of dharma, you have crafted a series of objectives that must be fulfilled. My role is merely to assist you in achieving these goals."

"I am aware of your objectives, Keshav, and how to adapt them to further my own goals. Because if dharmastapana is achieved... adharma will diminish and there will no longer be a need for Bholashankara to destroy this universe." His face radiated a serene happiness as he contemplated this future.

Krishna's lips thinned slightly, a subtle shift that might go unnoticed by those who did not know him well. Vasusena had not only discovered the key to altering Niyathi but was clever enough to twist it to his advantage. Any observant individual could discern his intentions from his actions—Sahadeva had already done so. It wasn't difficult for someone blessed to be the wisest in Aryavartha. Vasusena's earlier mention of them being co-workers now made profound sense.

Smiling serenely, Krishna spoke softly, the tone of his voice low and soothing. "It is not necessary for co-workers to harbour affection for one another, but it is essential that they do not harbour dislike either, Vrisha. I was partly responsible for your demise in your previous life, so I am here to make amends."

"Fair enough," Vasusena replied, his tone devoid of guile. "What do you propose, Madhav?"

"You may abuse me or curse me," Krishna offered calmly. "For the next five minutes, I am prepared to accept whatever you feel compelled to bestow upon me."

"You are allowing me to... even curse you?" Vasusena looked at the eighth incarnation of Vishnu, a puzzled expression on his face. "Really?"

"Yes, indeed."

"So whatever I bestow upon you, even a curse, you'll accept?" He asked, his voice a gentle murmur.

"I allowed Devi Gandhari to curse me, Vasusena. Because of my actions and words, she lost her hundred sons," Krishna confessed openly. "Because of my strategic decisions, you lost your life. Therefore, whatever you choose to bestow upon me, I will accept. After this exchange, let there be no animosity between us."

"So for the next five minutes, you'll accept anything I give?" Krishna nodded in confirmation. "Do you promise that, Keshava?"

"Yes."

"Very well," Vasusena agreed, his expression hardening momentarily. Krishna bowed his head, prepared to receive whatever Vasusena chose to inflict upon him.

"I, Vasusena, bless you to triumph in every battle you engage in." Krishna's expression became unreadable. "I bless that every strategy you devise succeeds flawlessly. I vow that once Suyodhana and I have established our kingdom, we will send the first harvest to you as an offering. A tenth of the taxes we collect will perpetually be yours. And whatever spiritual merit I have accumulated up to now... I donate it all to you." His stern expression softened into a small, genuine smile. "Furthermore, I forgive you for every transgression you have committed or planned against me. I have nothing further to say, Madhava."

"I assumed you would curse me, Vasusena," Krishna replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

Vasusena's small smile transformed into full-blown laughter, a rich, resonant sound that filled the space between them. "Parameshwar blessed me to be the wisest in all of Aryavartha, second only to you, Nandhagopala. I often pondered why Bajrangabali visited me merely a month into my tapasya. After receiving memories from Shiva, my confusion only deepened. To eliminate individuals like me is one of the reasons for your reincarnation on this earth.

And Amitvikram holds too much affection for you to assist your adversary. Even after my attempt on Devi Rukmini's life, he refrained from ending mine. I was bewildered until I learned of your history with Sudhama. Whatever is given to Krishna in sincerity... is returned manifold.

A handful of parched rice given to Krishna will yield luxurious palaces. If one donates their punya, they will reach the highest of heavens. If one gives their sins to Krishna, they are doomed to eternal torment in the lowest realms of hell. If you cursed Krishna... your very name will be taken as a curse for the generations to come.

Due to your actions, Keshav, a debt has been established between us. This debt brought Bajrangbali to me within weeks of my tapasya. Due to this debt, he was powerless to harm me even when I was poised to hurt you. Because of this bond, within a year of my penance, Parvathi-Parameshwara graced me with their presence to fulfil my spiritual endeavour.

There are four from the past world to whom you are indebted to. They are Mata Gandhari, Abhimanyu, Ekalavya, and myself.

The guileless Abhimanyu, whom you sacrificed not for justice but to provoke Phalguna into winning the war.

Mata Gandhari, whose sons perished not for their collective guilt but for the misdeeds of but two.

Ekalavya, whose life you claimed solely because his presence was inconvenient.

And I, Vasusena, who despite adhering to the codes of war, fell by your machinations. Because even before I walked on the path of adharma you planned my downfall. Even before I strayed from the path of dharma, you instigated Guru Parashuram and Bhoodevi to curse me. You committed adharma to protect dharma, Krishna. This debt has now settled upon your soul, binding us as tightly as Devi Amba and Mahamahim Bhishma are."

Krishna's lips tightened at these words, a visible sign of his inability to retract his earlier promise. He was bound to accept this offering. And whatever he accepts it would be returned a thousandfold. By his actions instead of weakening him, he made Vasusena near immortal.

The debt he owed to Abhimanyu, Ekalavya, and Vasusena, would have been fulfilled in their next lives.

Unfortunately, Vasusena had returned because Phalguna had employed the Pashupatastra rather than the Anjalikastra. This particular debt had allowed Vasusena to acquire blessings at an accelerated rate that rendered him nearly invincible.

It would not prove too bothersome since Parameshwara typically annihilates the universe created by Pashupatastra. However, Vasusena stood out as the first to potentially halt this cataclysmic event.

"You thought by letting you hurt me, you'd escape this debt and I'd be cursed, didn't you, Keshav?" Vasusena's smile vanished and his face turned blank, serious. "Two birds with one stone, huh? Trying to clear your own guilt while blaming me."

"People in Kaliyuga will curse Devi Gandhari, won't they? You've said that you allowed her to curse you. But in Kaliyuga, a harsh curse will become famous: 'You are like Gandhari who has eyes yet chose not to see.' Many fools in the next era will mock her."

"Mata Gandhari loved both the Kauravas and Pandavas equally. She was the one who berated Suyodhana, Susshashana, and me fiercely for our shameful actions during the dice game. Mata Gandhari, cleverly blessed Sairandhri even after recognizing her not as Bhanumati but as Paanchali in disguise. Do you really think she couldn't tell who was who? She is a woman who could recognize her children just by their footsteps. She blessed Dharma to win, even though it meant her sons would die.

"Such a devoted and pious woman will be wrongly cursed by the idiots in Kaliyuga. Her great sacrifices will be mocked by those who don't have even one-tenth of her courage. They will call her a 'kujanani,' a bad mother, not understanding her struggles or her wisdom." As Vasusena spoke these words, Krishna noticed his knuckles turn white as he tried hard to control his anger.

"This is my duty, Vasusena," Krishna spoke gently but firmly. "I can't and won't ask forgiveness for what I've done and will do."

"I'm not really expecting an apology, Keshav," Vasusena managed to calm his anger and cracked a small smile. "I thought we were allies. I promised Parameshwara that I'd always follow Dharma. And here you are yet, still trying to kill me."

"I guess it was naive and proud of me to think that a God would be a well-wisher or a co-worker to someone he sees as unworthy."

"You did promise Parameshwar to always follow Dharma. You also said that any dharma you missed in past lives, you'd make up for in this one," Krishna reminded him, his voice steady. Karna nodded. "Then why aren't you standing with your brothers, who are linked to you not just by blood but by their just cause?"

Chapter Text

"You did promise Parameshwar to always follow Dharma. You also said that any dharma you missed in past lives, you'd make up for in this one," Krishna reminded him, his voice steady. Vasusena nodded.

"Then why aren't you standing with your brothers, who are linked to you not just by blood but by their just cause?"

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Observing the heated conversation between Krishna and Vasusena from his snowy abode, a subtle smile curved the lips of Parameshwara, a blend of anticipation and serenity making his divine orbs sparkle and his tiger-skin clad, soot-stained, wiry form alive with exultation.

When he should have been immersed in Yoga-Nidra, that same intense meditation which took mortals ages of penance in unfathomably extreme conditions at remote locations to penetrate and draw the attention of Pashupati to their pleas, he now stood awake, leaning towards the screen of mist that performed the dual purpose of revealing the much-awaited encounter between Adhirathi and Vasudeva as well as guard the onlooker from the omniscient gaze of Narayana, waiting eagerly for the answer his current student would give.

The decision Vasusena would make at this crucial moment would shape the future of the universe, determining the course of cosmic events. In his previous life, Vasusena made several wrong choices which crippled his potential. Shiva was very eager to know the choices Vasusena would make in this life.

A deep exhale, filled with the sorrow of wasted potential and the unjustness of justice left the cosmic chest of Uma-pati as he recalled the world where the brilliance of the Suryaputra would have been forcefully snuffed out on a blood-soaked field and immortalized in words on the pages of history.

A world where Vasusena's previous life, akin to the life cycle of a star, was filled with moments of unparalleled brilliance and periods of profound darkness that eventually consumed him without mercy.

Smiling softly Shiva opened another screen of mist to watch the experiences which forged his present student into the person he became once again.

Protostar Phase

The first phase of a star's life cycle is the protostar phase. This is when the foundation of a star is laid, determining the kind of life it will have. This is the time where the star gathers strength... This is the phase where it will be determined weather the star will be a Giant star or a Small Star.

To Princess Pritha, Vasusena's birth could not have been anything but a mistake and a stain on the honour of her adopted father. She had abandoned him at birth, casting him away due to her fears and societal pressures. A child who should have been a prince had been floated away on the river Ganga because his mother placed her beliefs about her honour and her adopted father's honour above the well-being of her firstborn.

****How strange was the way life worked! Whenever Vasusena had encountered Queen Kunti in the halls of his dearest friend's residence she had been polite and interested in his well-being, the very picture of a royal asking after another royal (Where is your affection? Your care? Do you not love me mother?).

He had, in turn, been impressed by her unyielding nature and self-confidence and his respect for her had been immense.

It had taken a revelation under the sunlight for that respect to turn to ashes. He knew then that she was thorns carefully concealed in a bed of roses. He had wondered if his brothers by blood (not by love, never by love. Suyodhana was the only one who deserved his love) had ever had cause to know as well.

It had made him realize how fortunate he had been, to be found by Adhiratha and Radha and raised as their own. (The child he once was would have felt anger for his biological mother for her abandonment but the man he grew into was thankful. Because if she never abandoned him he'd never know Radhamma's love) They had, at least, placed no conditions on their love.****

Radha and Adhiratha cherished him deeply, nurturing him with all the love they could muster, much more than his biological mother ever did.

But a pair of gazelles could never raise a lion to his full potential. The lion will always be a leader, and gazelles will always be followers.

It was not their fault, Shiva smiled, as his student recalled the weary smiles and half-hearted encouragements whenever he returned with the makeshift bow he had created out of the brittle branches of the nearby oak, his palm perforated with splinters and dripping blood on the floor but with the satisfaction of every arrow aimed true.

Vasusena's upbringing might be in the house of a suta. He might be known to the world as sutaputra but the blood that flowed within his veins urged him to be a warrior, destined for greatness on the battlefield. He was born to rule, lead, and conquer—a lion among men. His adopted parents' nature, however, was that of servants, humble and unassuming. Their inherent nature was to serve, to live quietly and dutifully.

Despite the differences in their nature, they loved him unconditionally and encouraged him as best they could, offering their support and care. However, even though he had the love of his parents, society was not merciful. It was often cruel and unyielding in its judgments.

The First Bow and the First Brush with Prejudice...

It had been at the tender age of seven winters that Vasusena had convinced some of his neighbours' children (Not his friends. He had never quite managed to make friends) to venture into the shallow half of the forest, where the great oak tree stood. But he had not told them that the reason he wanted to go there was for the wood of the tree.

"My father told me there are mango trees around. Is that why we are going, Vasu?" Padmavati had asked eagerly, ever impatient at the prospect of fresh fruits. He had not looked her in the eye but had confirmed that yes, they were going to that area. A half-truth.

Slipping away from the ragtag group of young Sutas had been no difficulty once they were ensnared with mangoes and slingshots (His neighbor's son, whose name was a hazy memory for him, seemed to carry them everywhere). He had followed the cloying scent of resins with closed eyes, easily distinguishable from the sweet freshness of mangoes until he stumbled on gnarled, ancient roots.

Upon opening his eyes, he had come face to face with the massive trunk of the tree, thickened and hardened with resins and carved with age, so humongous that even its lowermost branches were far out of his reach. Getting to those branches would be challenging, he remembered thinking. But he was never the kind to shy away from a challenge.

By the time he had gotten enough wood for a Maha-Dhanur (it is a Maha-Dhanur for his child's heart) his angavastram was torn to shreds, his arms were lacerated and bloody, a dull ache had developed in his bones and his eardrums were being attacked by the never-ending yells and calls of his peers, who had finished with the mangoes sometime ago and were gawking at his monkey-like antics. Vasusena did not care as he could make his bow all by himself now.

It took him a week's labor, a bewildered carpenter handing over his spare tools, a few long-suffering pumice stones and exasperated fishermen giving away the thinnest of their cords to put together something resembling a bow (he may have miscalculated the amount of wood required for a Maha-Dhanur since he was barely a third of the height they were in his father's stories. But it came up to his height so no harm was done). The result was a great misshapen arc, resembling the crescent moon, strung with a fishing cord. Vasusena loved it all the same.

From then on whenever his peers hollered at his window to come and play with them, carrying their mud and straw playthings, Vasusena carried his bow. When they played with toys, Vasusena held his bow, feeling every dent and swell, finding the most comfortable position to grip, positioning an arrow (borrowed from the local hunters), familiarizing himself with the course of the wind and aiming just so.

When his mates rolled about in mud he practiced his aim, his focus unwavering. He practiced and practiced till he never missed any target he set upon himself. The blood in his veins scoffed at the childishness of the kids around him, feeling a sense of detachment. He trained when others played, honing his skills with relentless dedication.

His peers would look in his direction and goggle at the bow. They would pause their games to come up and plead with him to join them. Each time he would decline, for his target hadn't been perfected yet and couldn't they see he was busy? They would give each other nonplussed looks and shake their heads in confusion. Eventually they would leave him alone.

Days passed and they stopped bothering him. No one came to his house to call him out to play anymore. He did not care. Those nameless children weren't worth his archery time anyway (except Padmavati. He quite enjoyed her company). When his parents asked him why he didn't go out to play anymore he answered that he didn't like children's games and it wasn't that important, he was quite happy as it was. And he meant it.

Even as Adhiratha and Radha exchanged worried looks over his head, Vasusena hummed contently under his breath, already looking forward to training the next day.

He did not know then that it was not meant to last. For he was the Universe's favorite puppet and puppets weren't supposed to do as they pleased.

It happened a month after the venture to the forest. Adhiratha had to leave for the palace early when an urgent summons arrived for him and Radha had a ritual to conduct for which she had been fasting since the previous day. Vasusena was pleased. This meant he could practice for longer and no one would interrupt. He decided to do what he had been wanting for the past few weeks.

There was a wide open space a little farther from the ghat where the village women washed their utensils and it was perfect for archery. His mother had asked him to avoid that area previously but had not explained why.

When Vasusena had pestered for the reason, she had answered that there were bad people there. This had seemed the silliest thing in the world to seven-year-old Vasusena, young and unafraid when he had promised to do so but not meant it.

So that day, as he soundlessly treaded out of the house, Vasusena shot a guilty look towards his mother- who was sitting in front of the mud idols of the gods with eyes closed in prayer- before making his escape.

He had gotten a prahar's worth of practice when a sharp, violent gasp as well as the clang! of utensils hitting the stony ground drew his attention to his back. It was the wife of the village Mukhiya, who had come for the day's washing and now stood on the first step of the ghat, staring at him with a bloodless countenance, her eyes wide and wild with terror. His position had been half-hidden by a cluster of trees and hence, the women already in the water had not spotted him. But the Chief's wife had only just arrived.

Her reaction drew the attention of the other ladies and one by one, they took in the sight before them. Seeing a seven-year-old Suta boy wielding a bow with a skill beyond what is required for hunting, every single one of them blanched in horror.

Vasusena did not think there was any reason to react so violently. What was happening?

He got his answer when mere moments later the Mukhiya's wife was right in front of him and shook his shoulders hard. Shock jolted his heart and Vasusena stumbled back from the sudden onslaught. "What do you think you are doing, boy?" the woman screeched, making Vasusena wince at the pitch and reply- "I am training myself in archery, my lady".

The woman withdrew her hands but did not move. "You wish to be a hunter to provide for the village?" she rasped.

"No, I wish to be an archer of war. A Rathi warrior" declared Radheya proudly. But it did not have the effect he had intended. There was no clapping, no encouraging smiles, no delightful exclamations. Instead, the Chief's wife stared at him intensely, her eyes burning through his tender skin and scorching his soul. It shook him deeply.

"You...wish to be a warrior", she said, as if she could have somehow misheard.

"A Rathi warrior," Vasusena said exultantly looking up at her...and flinched as her countenance lost another shade of color and she clenched her cotton wrapper tighter around herself, looking around fearfully for any eavesdroppers.

When she had ascertained the area to be free of any onlookers (even the avian kind), she grabbed Vasusena harshly and dragged him back to the shadowy corner from whence he had emerged to speak to her. "Listen to me, are you listening to me?" she said forcefully, making Vasusena jolt and thrash in her hold. His heart cried for his mother but his mind would not let him say it out loud. He was a warrior!

"We. Are. Sutas.", the woman emphasized as if Vasusena might have somehow missed that growing up. "Ours is to handle the reins of the warrior's vehicles, ours is to clear the path for them in war and guide them safely through it. Ours is the place at the fore of the chariot NOT AT THE PAVILION OF IT", she punctuated with a bruising grip at his tender shoulders.

"But why? We too are the same flesh and blood as them. We too wield weapons and learn warfare the same as them. Why can we not stand in a chariot bearing a flag of our own wish and making? Vasusena argued, despite the fear making his heart hammer against his ribcage and every instinct telling him to flee.

The woman drew in a ragged breath. "What kind of half-cocked education are your parents giving you? No boy, Sutas do not learn the same things as Kshtriyas. We wield weapons of lesser magnificence and with lesser skill. Anything more is forbidden. You better get this through your thick skull fast. War is the province of the upper-class caste and they do not take kindly to usurpers."

The words were meant to inspire fear, to make him give up his beloved bow. They only succeeded in making his blood boil and pound harder through his veins.

"I SHALL NOT!" Vasusena roared, as much as his squeaky voice would allow. It was enough to make all the women down in the ghat, who had begun tittering, to fall silent and look their way again and make any passerby stop in their tracks to behold the spectacle. "I shall not give up my bow, my dream. 'Tis my wish to be an archer, a warrior and I will not shy away from it!"

The woman moaned in despair, her shaking hands pulling at her hair, " Destiny, dream...do you think you are the first Suta to be ensnared by these fanciful words, boy? No, you're not. Neither will you be the first to be punished for it and pull everyone else down with you. Do you want 'them' to pour molten lead down your throat?"

Vasusena gasped and jerked out of her hold. Looking up at her angrily, he declared, "You're cruel. You are trying to rip my dream away and scare me as well. I shan't talk to you any further."

The woman stared at Vasusena for a few moments. Her hair was disheveled, her face had not regained any color and her fingers had developed a nervous tick. She was such a pitiable sight that Vasusena would have apologized. But she stood up suddenly, leaving Vasusena dizzy at the abruptness of her movement, and spoke curtly, " So be it. If you're that eager to pave your way towards a brutal downfall, far be it from me to stop you". She turned and threaded back the way she came, her gait slightly unsteady, the utensils she had dropped collecting dust and forgotten.

But to seven-winter Vasusena, the entire encounter seemed like a fever dream, at the end of which he was left with a single question, Who was 'them'?

He would get his answer sooner than he liked.

************

Death in Family

Vasusena had hoped to forget that ordeal entirely. But it seemed to be the beginning of the lifting of the veil from his eyes, the one created from sunshine and roses, cloaking the evils of the earth.

Instead of recognizing his worth, society sneered at him, its disdain palpable. Everywhere he looked, he faced scorn and mockery because of his nature and his ambitions, a constant reminder of his outsider status.

Even his parents could not support him wholeheartedly, fearing societal retribution and the harsh judgment of their peers. Yet he never strayed from his chosen path, remaining steadfast in his determination and resolve. His unwavering spirit pushed him forward, despite all the obstacles he faced. He knew his destiny was not defined by his circumstances but by his actions and choices. This drove him to continue, undeterred by the hardships, constantly striving to prove his worth and fulfill his true potential.

The year he turned eleven winters, he gained yet another reason to push himself past all sane limits.

The day Vasusena's life changed forever started as any other day. Clear blue sky dotted with white fluffs, chirping birds that always came for the grains his Amma set aside just for them, the scent of the Parijat flowers from the tree their neighbor had planted a few years prior and the drooling of his brother Swarnajeet-or Shona as they called him-on Vasusena's shoulder because the former had, as usual, wrapped himself around his elder brother in his sleep.

But Vasusena knew he needed to get up early that day. It was the time for the traditional aarti to Lakshmi- a goddess that the Suta colony, being of the lowermost caste, seldom had access to and since the ceremony occurred once every five years, all members of the colony were expected to be present. Which was why, even though he hated to rise his brother, he needed to get up now.

Sitting up as quietly as possible, Vasusena tried to gently untangle Shona's limbs without waking him up. But that was not to be as, within a moment, Shona stirred, blinking one sleepy eye open and smiling adorably. He had seen all of eight winters and could make even the most vinegar-tempered person turn to mush with that smile. "Suprabhat?"

Vasusena chuckled, "Suprabhat, little rabbit. Up you get now or I'll be late for the pooja and Amma will have both our heads." " 'M, not a rabbit," Shona mumbled sleepily, trying in vain to burrow into his brother- and, in Vasusena's opinion, contradicting his own words- and fall back into sleep's embrace.

When Vasusena poked him- a prelude to tickling, they both knew, if Shona delayed any longer- his younger brother sighed and, sitting up with a theatrical groan, continued, "I would rather be a monkey! Like Lord Hanuman!" he straightened and threw his hand up into the air as if he were about to take flight and rush to Lanka to Devi Sita's rescue.

Vasusena ruffled his hair as he stood to go collect his ritual attire for the ceremony. "You'd need to learn to at least climb trees first without dropping like a sack of potatoes", Vasusena remarked over his shoulder before shutting the door to their hut behind him as he prepared to venture into the river for his morning ablutions, ignoring his brother's indignant squawking.

When he returned, his parents were attired and fully equipped for the puja and Shon was, oddly, bouncing on his heels, his eyes flicking this way and that nervously. But Vasusena did not get to enquire about the reason behind this. No sooner had Vasusena set the cloth basket down- the clothes of his previous day washed and hung in the yard to dry- than his mother descended on him, attacking his hair with a drying towel and his body with fragrant oils and essences that she had made herself from the sap of plants.

By the time Radha finally released him, he was looking around in a daze, his nose brutally assaulted with varying scents of flowers and fruits and his unruly hair mercilessly flattened to his skull with oil. Vasusena struggled not to grimace....and sneeze. Radha usually had a good sense of which scent complimented which and what essence pairings should be declared illegal, but it was clear that the significance of the day was taking its toll on Amma's nerves. He could see Shona struggling not to snicker at his, most likely, constipated expression while Radha, oblivious to this or Vasusena's answering glare spoke, "We must get to the temple now Radheya, Shona. It is already nigh on time and the ceremony will begin at the earliest. Oh, can you imagine the shame if we make it there late?"

Vasusena bit back a sigh and allowed his mother to haul him outside (she would topple over otherwise. He was much stronger than her) with one hand while the other clutched the platter loaded with ingredients. Father had already left for the temple, she told them, and they must be on their way too. Looked like Vasusena wouldn't get to dry his hair after all.

As Vasusena, Radha, and Adhiratha prepared to leave for the temple, Shon tugged at Vasusena's arm, pulling him aside. His big, earnest eyes looked up at his elder brother with a blend of nervousness and hesitation.

"Bhrata, can you tell Amma and Baba that I'll join you later? I want to gather some of my friends and walk to the temple together," he whispered, glancing nervously at their parents.

Vasusena raised an eyebrow. Taking in Shon's jittery form, eyes flitting this way and that and hands fiddling with his angavastram, Vasusena fixed his younger brother with a stern look. "Uh-huh. And the truth?"

Sheepishly, Shon admitted, "Well, not exactly. We were playing catch yesterday near the head purohit's house, and our ball got stuck high up in one of the trees in his courtyard. Today, since the purohit and his wife will be busy with the puja, we planned to sneak in and get it back. It's perfectly safe, Bhrata, no one will be around to see us."

Vasusena frowned, his protective instincts flaring. "Shon, if you're caught, the punishment for a Shudra polluting the pure residence of a Brahmin would be unimaginable. This isn't safe."

Shon huffed in exasperation. "You worry too much, Bhrata. We'll be quick and careful. Just go with Amma and Baba. I'll handle the rest."

Reluctantly, Vasusena nodded, though unease gnawed at him. "Be careful, Shon. And come straight to the temple after."

Shon beamed, "I will, Bhrata. Don't worry."

With conflicted emotions, Vasusena joined his parents, and they set off towards the temple. The path was lined with vibrant flowers, their sweet fragrance mingling with the morning air. As they approached the temple, Vasusena's thoughts kept drifting back to his brother, a growing sense of dread shadowing his heart.

Inside the temple, the aarati chamber was adorned with garlands and oil lamps, casting a warm, golden glow. The Suta families gathered, their faces alight with anticipation for the rare ceremony. The Purohit's wife bustled around, arranging offerings with meticulous care, but the Purohit himself was conspicuously absent.

One of the women asked, "Where is the Purohit?"

His wife smiled reassuringly. "He'll be here soon. He was delayed by a missive from Kuru Rajpurohit Kripacharya and stayed home to consult his scrolls."

Vasusena's blood ran cold at the mention of Purohit staying home. He prayed desperately that the man would not notice Shon and his friends.

But that was not to be as, moments later, a frantic shout pierced the air. "Radhamma! Radhamma!"

A young boy, one of Shon's friends, burst into the temple, his clothes torn and muddied. The gathered crowd dissolved into chaos as Radha leapt to her feet, rushing outside with Adhiratha and Vasusena on her heels.

Adhiratha reached the boy first, gripping his shoulders. "What happened?"

The boy, shaking and pale, managed to croak out, "Shon... Purohit's house... yard... ball..."

Vasusena didn't wait to hear more. He bolted towards the Purohit's house, his heart pounding in his chest, each step a prayer for Shon's safety. As he turned a corner, an unearthly scream split the air, freezing him in his tracks. It was a scream filled with unimaginable pain and terror, and Vasusena recognized it instantly. It was Shon.

Vasusena stumbled forward, his legs threatening to give way. He felt many hands steady him as he struggled to comprehend the horror unfolding. The Purohit emerged from his house, his face a mask of cold indifference.

"A young Suta child snuck into my chambers and was reciting the Rig Veda," the Purohit declared. "Which, as you all are aware, is punishable by death if committed by any individual of the lower castes. Adhiratha's son must be punished accordingly. I'm taking him to court."

The Brahmin's wife, witnessing the commotion, approached with a look of concern. "What has happened?" she asked, her voice trembling.

One of the elder Sutas, his face etched with sorrow, replied, "The Purohit claims that young Shon was caught reciting the Rig Veda and punished accordingly. But the boy was merely retrieving a ball. How could he have been reciting the scriptures?"

The Purohit's wife looked at her husband, confusion and fear clouding her eyes. "Is this true?" she asked him quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The Purohit's expression hardened. "The boy was in my chambers, speaking words forbidden to his kind. I will act as the law dictates."

But the Purohit's words were only the beginning. Dragging Shon's small, trembling form to the court of Hastinapur, the Purohit repeated his lie with a venomous conviction. Despite the law that forbade the killing of a child younger than thirteen years, the Purohit's wrath and influence was not something to be trifled with. Vasusena hoped at least the court would provide justice to him.

---

As the Purohit dragged the haggard and weeping Shon to the court of Hastinapur, Bhishma stood on the dais, his eyes scanning the assembly. The court was a place of law and order, a sacred institution that upheld the dharma of their society. Bhishma prided himself on his adherence to these principles, but the situation unfolding before him tested his resolve.

The Purohit's accusations rang through the hall, his voice tinged with righteous indignation. "This boy, a mere Shudra, was caught in my chambers, reciting the sacred Rig Veda. Such a transgression cannot go unpunished."

Bhishma's face remained stoic, but inside, a storm brewed. The law was clear: no child under thirteen should face death. Yet, the Brahmin's word held immense weight. To challenge him could mean inviting a curse upon the kingdom, a prospect Bhishma could not afford.

He looked down at Shon, a small, trembling figure surrounded by the imposing figures of the court. Bhishma's gaze hardened. In his mind, the varna system was the bedrock of their civilization. Each caste had its place, its duty. The Brahmins, as the custodians of knowledge and spirituality, were to be revered and protected. The Shudras, meant for servitude, were to remain in their prescribed roles. To disrupt this order was to invite chaos.

Bhishma's thoughts flickered to the past, to the teachings of his ancestors. He remembered the stories of how the great kingdoms had fallen when the social order was challenged. To him, this incident was not just about a boy trespassing; it was about maintaining the sanctity of their way of life.

The Purohit's voice cut through his thoughts. "The law dictates punishment. To let this boy's actions go unpunished would be to undermine the very fabric of our society."

Bhishma's jaw tightened. He was torn between the law's explicit prohibition against executing children and the broader implications of defying a Brahmin. He knew the punishment the Purohit demanded was extreme, but he also feared the consequences of allowing a perceived transgression by a Shudra to go unpunished.

He raised his hand, calling for silence. The hall fell quiet, every eye fixed on him. "Our laws are clear, and we have to uphold them. However, the sanctity of the Brahmin's home and the purity of our sacred texts must also be protected. This boy's actions, though he is but a child, threaten that sanctity."

His voice, usually a beacon of justice, now carried a cold, calculating edge. "To maintain the harmony and order of our society, the punishment must be carried out."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the Brahmins in the court, while the others watched in stunned silence. Bhishma's heart was heavy, but his mind was resolute. He signalled for the executioner to step forward, the act of pouring molten lead into the boy's mouth a grim spectacle of deterrence for the lower castes not to reach above their station.

As the executioner approached, Bhishma's eyes met Shon's. The boy's terror was palpable, and for a fleeting moment, Bhishma felt a pang of doubt. But he quickly suppressed it. To him, this was a necessary evil, a sacrifice to uphold the greater good.

When Shon's scream of agony filled the hall, Bhishma's face remained impassive, though his heart pounded. The sight of the boy's convulsing body, the molten lead searing through his young flesh, was a testament to the harsh realities of their world. Bhishma turned his gaze away, his mind already rationalizing the act as a necessary measure to preserve societal order.

"The boy has been punished," Bhishma declared, his voice ringing out with finality when the hoarse unearthly screams of the dying child had faded. "Let this serve as a warning to all who dare defy the sacred order of our society."

As Shon's lifeless body- his face, a barely recognisable mass of charred and blackened tissues- was carried away, Bhishma stood tall, his expression a mask of unwavering resolve. Inside, however, he felt the weight of his decision bearing down on him. He knew he had acted in accordance with his beliefs, but a part of him wondered if there might have been another way. Yet, in the end, his Dharma and fear of divine retribution had guided his hand.

To Bhishma, the sacrifice of one child was a small price to pay for the stability and order of the kingdom. The lower castes, he believed, needed to understand their place, and sometimes, harsh measures were necessary to ensure they did. As he watched the court return to its usual proceedings, Bhishma reaffirmed his commitment to upholding the ancient laws and traditions, no matter the cost.

---

Vasusena's blood turned to ice as he watched the horrific scene unfold. Shon's eyes, wide with terror, searched the crowd for his brother, his protector. But there was nothing Vasusena could do. His legs refused to move, his voice choked by despair. The sight of molten lead, glistening ominously in the executioner's hands, seared into his mind.

Shon's scream was a sound of pure agony, tearing through the hearts of all who heard it. It was a scream that would echo in Vasusena's nightmares for the rest of his life. As the lead was poured, the boy's small body convulsed, his life snuffed out in a brutal act of injustice.

The Purohit, standing tall with smug satisfaction, declared, "Let this be a lesson to all who dare defy the order of our society."

Radha's wail of grief was a sound that tore the heavens. Adhiratha, his face a mask of devastation, cradled his wife as she crumbled to the ground. The Suta villagers, their faces etched with horror and sorrow, murmured prayers for the innocent soul that had been so cruelly taken from them.

Vasusena, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces, cradled his brother's lifeless body, the weight of injustice crushing his spirit. At that moment, he realized the harsh truth of their world. The society that prided itself on purity and piety was capable of unspeakable cruelty towards those it deemed lesser. And no matter how hard they tried, the Sutas would always be seen as outsiders, as 'them.'

The Lakshmi Puja, a ceremony meant to bring blessings and prosperity, had turned into a day of mourning and injustice. The Sutas, bound by their faith and traditions, were left to grapple with the harsh reality of their place in society.

Vasusena, his heart heavy with grief and anger, vowed to remember this day. The world was cruel and unjust, but he would not let his brother's death be in vain. As he stood amidst the shattered remnants of his family's joy, he silently swore to fight against the forces that sought to keep them oppressed.

The memory of Shon's innocent smile, his playful laughter, and his dreams would fuel Vasusena's resolve. He would become a beacon of hope for his people, a warrior against the darkness of discrimination and hatred.

Thus, on a day that had begun with hope and tradition, Vasusena's life was irrevocably changed, setting him on a path that would challenge the very foundations of the world he knew.

Several years later.

Years had passed since that fateful day, and Vasusena had risen to power, known as Angaraj, the King of Anga, a title bestowed upon him by Suyodhana to honor his exceptional skills rather than his caste. One day, as he presided over his court, a child was brought before him for a petty crime. Clad in regal attire, he listened intently to the accusations, the weight of his crown a constant reminder of his responsibilities.

Unfamiliar with the laws of the land, he instinctively ordered a punishment. His minister, Sahastrabuddi, stepped forward and respectfully reminded him, "Your Majesty, no child under thirteen should be punished."

Vasusena was taken aback, the old wound of his brother's unjust death reopening in his heart. He turned to Sahastrabuddi, his voice trembling slightly. "Is it true?"

"Yes, Maharaaj." The humble minister spoke kindly.

"Even if a Suta child reads the Vedas, is this rule still applicable?"

Sahastrabuddi smiled trying to hide his confusion, not understanding the depth of Vasusena's question. No one knew about his brother. The people knew about his living brothers but no one knew about the brother their King loved the most. "No child should be punished for such a crime, my king. Our laws protect all children equally, regardless of their caste."

"If a child got molten lead poured into his mouth for reading Vedas..."

"Then it is a wrong judgment. We are a civilized kingdom, Maharaj." Shastrabuddi answered him softly.

"If such a judgment is given. What is the reason behind it?" He asked desperately.

"Even daityas are not that cruel, Maharaj," Sahastrabuddi replied in an even tone trying to conceal the unease he felt. Wetting his lips with a sip of wine he continued. "Why are you asking this, Maharaj?"

The revelation hit Vasusena like a thunderbolt. His mind flashed back to the court of Hastinapur, where his beloved Shon had been dragged, accused of a crime he didn't commit. The memory of molten lead being poured into his brother's mouth, the terror in Shon's eyes, the scream that had haunted his dreams ever since—all came rushing back.

Vasusena's knees buckled, and he sank onto his throne, his regal composure shattered. The court fell silent, the gravity of the moment palpable. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he buried his face in his hands, unable to contain the flood of emotions. The ministers and courtiers watched in stunned silence, the usually unflinching king now vulnerable and broken.

"All of you please leave." He spoke as his eyes grew blurred with tears.

The entire court disassembled but not before they saw their king smashing all the furniture in the court wailing in sorrow.

He whispered to himself, "Shon... all this time, you were innocent. Even the trumped-up charges against you are not enough to sentence you to death. They lied... they lied to us."

Why? Why should his brother die? Bhishma and that bloody Brahmin... sentenced an innocent child to death. What had he or his brother ever done to those bastards who called themselves dharmis?

"Maharaj..." It seems like Sahastrabuddi was still in the court. He kneeled beside him and started to rub his shoulders soothingly. "They say if you have sorrow in your heart... it would lessen by sharing it with others."

"You said even daityas would never give such a punishment, Maanyavar," Vasusena spoke in a broken tone. "Then Mahaamahim Bhishma is worse than a daitya. He gave that punishment to my brother."

The minister took the young King in his hands and gave his shoulder for his King to cry trying to hide his shock.

---

The Prejudiced teacher...

//Gurur Brahma, Gurur Vishnu, Gurur Devo Maheshwaraha

Gurur Sakshaat Param Brahmah, Tasmai Shree Guravey Namaha//

They say a teacher is same as Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. It was said equal to a God... mother, father and teacher are to be respected. 

When he grew older, Vasusena was sent to train under Kripacharya and Dronacharya, the warfare teachers of the Kuru clan. Contrary to what most people think, Vasusena did learn under Dronacharya, absorbing knowledge with great eagerness. That's why, even when he was insulted by the teacher of the Kuru clan, he kept silent out of respect and a deep sense of duty, swallowing his pride. After all, a teacher for a day is a father for life.

Not many people understand that the education given to Kshatriyas and Sutas was very different, a stark contrast in opportunities. He actually learned about astras under Dronacharya, the mystical weapons of immense power. But the method of teaching was different, tailored to the societal hierarchy that dictated their roles.

Sutas also had a respectable position in the varnas, serving essential roles in society. They served as charioteers, spies, soldiers, and more; their contributions were vital. The charioteers knew the effects of astras, understanding their complexities.

When a Kshatriya warrior fought in a war, his charioteer was the one he should trust wholeheartedly, a bond of life and death. The charioteers gave them advice on what the warrior should do and pulled them out of tight spots in war, a crucial role. So they had to know the astras, the intricacies of these powerful weapons.

Suta charioteer education focused on recognizing the astras and making split-second decisions on how to steer their riders from certain death. If an astra could not be countered by their warrior, they should guide them out of danger to the best of their ability as a strategy for survival.

But they were not taught how to use the astras, knowledge was kept from them. They were taught the knowledge of how to recognize astras but not how to use them. They were just given a glimpse into that knowledge but not the full version.

Vasusena learned of the astras from Dronacharya. He didn't learn the knowledge on how to wield and recall the astras because that knowledge was reserved only for Brahmins and Kshatriyas.

For a child like him, it was like dangling a piece of meat in front of a tiger and pulling it away because it was not reserved for him. To Vasusena, it was a constant reminder of the disparity based solely on birth. This constant reminder fueled his determination and ambition, driving him to prove his worth despite the limitations placed on him by society. The unfairness of the situation only made him more resolute in his pursuit of excellence.

As he grew, Vasusena started to shine brightly, displaying unmatched skills in archery and combat. His talents were undeniable despite being the son of a charioteer. In his community and even among the princes, there was no one, except Arjuna, who could be actually called his equal in anything, which was a testament to both his passion and abilities.

He was proud of this, and it was a source of great satisfaction for him. Despite not having as many resources as the princes, he was the second-best among them, which was a remarkable achievement. He loved archery with all his heart, but he would never have the full education just because of his caste due to a cruel twist of fate. He was more than capable of learning the advanced techniques, but they would be forever out of his reach because society had declared so.

This was the first time he saw the injustice in the world, a harsh reality. The first seeds of discontent, which started with the death of his brother, began to grow slowly into a simmering hatred.

**Inside Guru Dronacharya's Ashram**

The atmosphere in Guru Dronacharya's ashram crackled with tension as Vasusena stood before the revered guru, his demeanor defiant, his eyes ablaze with determination.

"Gurudev," Vasusena began, his voice firm despite the hostile glares from noble-born students around him, "I seek knowledge of the sacred astras. Shouldn't one's worth be judged by their skills and dedication rather than their birth?"

Guru Dronacharya's usually composed face contorted with disdain. He had faced challenges before, but none as audacious as this. The noble-born students shifted uncomfortably, their faces twisted with a mixture of scorn and curiosity.

"Vasusena," Guru Dronacharya's voice sliced through the tense silence, dripping with disdain, "do you not understand the sanctity of our traditions? You, a lowly Suta, dare to speak of astras? You, who are but a stain upon the purity of our lineage?"

Vasusena's eyes flashed with a mix of anger and sorrow. "Respect should be earned through merit, not birth," he retorted, his words cutting through the air like a knife. The noble-born students exchanged incredulous glances, some scoffing under their breath.

"Enough!" Guru Dronacharya thundered, his voice reverberating off the walls of the ashram. "You are nothing but a deluded fool, Vasusena! A Shudra will never ascend beyond his station, no matter how much he dreams!"

The tension in the room thickened, the other students watching with a mixture of discomfort and fascination.

"Gurudev," Vasusena pressed on, his voice unwavering, "if I do not challenge these boundaries, how will anything ever change?"

Guru Dronacharya's face flushed crimson with rage. "You insolent wretch!" he seethed, his eyes blazing with contempt. "You think yourself worthy to stand among princes and warriors? You, who are destined for nothing more than to respect and serve your superiors?"

The noble-born students, despite their initial shock, now watched with a growing sense of vindication. Some nodded in agreement, their respect for Guru Dronacharya swelling as he put Vasusena in his place.

"Your impudence knows no bounds," Guru Dronacharya continued, his voice dripping with scorn. "Leave this ashram at once, Vasusena! You are not fit to tread upon these sacred grounds, let alone aspire to wield the knowledge of astras!"

Vasusena stood tall, his face a mask of defiance and disappointment. "I will not be bound by your prejudice, Gurudev," he declared, his voice steady, his eyes locking defiantly with Dronacharya's. "I will find my own path, even if it leads me away from here."

Guru Dronacharya's gaze bore into Vasusena like a dagger. "Go then," he spat, his voice laced with disdain. "Go and live out your miserable existence. You are a blight on your caste. You who are to receive moksha by serving faithfully refuse to do so and aspire to stand on the pavilion of the chariot. May the gods show you the folly of your ambitions!"

With a downcast glare hiding his anger, Vasusena turned on his heel and strode out of the ashram, the weight of rejection heavy upon his shoulders. The noble-born students watched in silent approval, their admiration for Guru Dronacharya deepening as they witnessed the swift and harsh justice meted out to the audacious Suta.

"Let that be a lesson to all who dare challenge their place," he remarked, his voice carrying a hint of satisfaction.

The ashram returned to its usual order, the noble-born students resuming their training with renewed vigor. Guru Dronacharya, his chest heaving with a mix of triumph and resentment, turned away.

"Let him serve as a reminder," Dronacharya muttered to himself, his voice cold and resolute. "A reminder that birth and station are immutable, and those who defy them are doomed to failure."

The noble-born students nodded in agreement, their faith in Guru Dronacharya reaffirmed. As they continued their studies, the memory of Vasusena's defiance lingered, as cautionary tale that echoed through the halls of the ashram.

No one knew the Suta they sneered at became one of the best archers in their generation. No one even in their wildest dreams could imagine a child with thirteen years less education compared to them in his later life will turn into a Maharathi who is the most dangerous man on the side of Prince Suyodhana.

Adhiratha paced the length of his modest home, anxiety etched deeply into his weathered face. The news of Vasusena's confrontation with Guru Drona had spread like wildfire through Hastinapur. To challenge a revered Brahmin and teacher was unthinkable, and for a charioteer's son to do so was an act of sheer audacity. Adhiratha knew the consequences could be dire.

"Vasusena!" he called out, his voice echoing through the house. "Come here at once."

Vasusena, his expression still smoldering with the remnants of his defiance, appeared from his room. "Father, you called?"

Adhiratha looked at his son, a mixture of pride and fear swirling in his eyes. "Is it true, what I've heard? Did you confront Guru Drona?"

Vasusena stood tall, his chin lifted in defiance. "Yes, Father. I did. I sought the knowledge of the astras, but he denied me because of my birth."

Adhiratha's heart ached with a father's pride and a servant's fear. "My son, do you realize the gravity of what you've done? Defying Drona is akin to defying the very order of our society. You will be ostracized for this."

Vasusena's jaw tightened. "I do not care, Father. I will not be bound by the shackles of my birth. I promised myself that I'll find a teacher and become a warrior better than any of Guru Drona's students. I seek your permission to leave Hasthinapur."

Adhiratha took a deep breath, his mind racing. He knew Vasusena's determination was unyielding, but the world outside their home was unforgiving. The only way for Vasusena and their family to weather the scorn was to leave Hasthinapur. But he's still a child.

Radha, Vasusena's mother, who had been listening from the doorway, stepped forward, her eyes brimming with tears. "No, Adhiratha! We cannot send our son away. He is but a child."

Adhiratha turned to her, his expression stern but filled with sorrow. "Radha, it is not our decision to make. Vasusena has made his choice."

Vasusena gently held his mother's hands, his own eyes misty but resolute. "Mother, I must do this. I must prove my worth to the world, and to myself."

Radha clung to him, her tears soaking his tunic. "But you are our son! How can we let you go? How will you survive without us?"

Vasusena embraced her tightly, then gently pried her arms away. "I will be fine, Mother. I promise. I will find a teacher who will recognize my worth. I will become a warrior greater than any of Drona's students."

Adhiratha placed a hand on his son's shoulder, a gesture of both support and farewell. "Go, my son. Seek out your destiny. Ayushman Bhava."

As Vasusena gathered his belongings and prepared to leave, Radha's sobs filled the house. Adhiratha held her, his own heart breaking. "We must let him go, Radha. It is the only way."

After Vasusena had left, the house felt unbearably empty. Radha turned to Adhiratha, her voice trembling with grief and anger. "Why did you let him go? What if something happens to him?"

Adhiratha's eyes were filled with a sorrow that matched her own. "If he stays here, Radha, he'll face derision from everyone in our society. He'll be filled with hate. Compared to the beasts, rakshasas etc outside the walls of this Kingdom... the people within the walls are more cruel. He's the blessing given to us by Suryadev. The ruler of Navagraha himself will protect our son. I want him to be happy, Radha. I know no Brahmin will ever accept him due to tradition but if we don't let him go, he'd resent us for not allowing him to fight for his dreams."

************************************************

So, he left Hastinapur in search of a teacher who was willing to teach him astras in his quest for knowledge. History will remember him as a person jealous of Arjuna, and despite being more than ten years older than him, he wanted to learn astras for the sole purpose of defeating and killing the third Pandava.

Most of that was true, but people tend to forget that both he and Arjuna started their training at the same time. However, Arjuna was always given a better education. One of them received only half an education because of his caste, while the other had everything given to him, a stark contrast. What Vasusena loved was kept out of his reach because of his caste, and it made him a bitter and jealous person.

Vasusena superimposed everything wrong about the varna system into the image of Arjuna, the favourite of both Bhishma and Drona. One of them killed his brother unjustly and the other can't even see his potential too blinded by the traditions.

Arjuna, who had the best of everything just because he was born a Kshatriya. All his bitterness was concentrated towards the third Pandava and he believed that if he ever managed to beat the third Pandava he could prove the world wrong. It was wrong, but it was the mistake he made in anger against the world and the society he lived in.

Many people say Vasusena and Arjuna received equal education because Vasusena learned under Sage Parashurama. This is a misconception and it is certainly not true.

Vasusena wandered all over Aryavarta for eleven long years, searching for a teacher who was willing to teach him. He begged more than a hundred teachers, who rejected him, the fools too blinded by the varna system to understand the diamond in the rough presented to them.

He never gave up, even when faced with rejection after rejection, his determination unwavering. This journey itself was a testament to his resolve and his unyielding quest for knowledge, despite the unfairness of his circumstances.

Vasusena's perseverance was admirable, yet it also highlighted the deeply ingrained prejudices of the time. Each rejection only fueled his desire to prove himself, to rise above the limitations imposed on him by birth. He encountered many who never even bothered to see his potential just because of societal norms.

This long and arduous journey shaped his character, instilling in him a resilience that would define his legacy. But it also eroded his morals. His struggle was not just against the world but also against the constraints within his own heart and mind, battling the bitterness which he ultimately failed. Because even a rock would be worn down by the flowing river.

He was consumed by such desperation that he was willing to forsake his morals for the cherished love he held for the weapon. His burning desire was to demonstrate to the world that even a Suta could ascend to greatness when afforded an opportunity. This endeavour represented not just a quest driven by passion but also an unwavering pursuit of recognition and validation.

Not many people understand that it was eleven years wasted while Arjuna was continually learning under Dronacharya. He studied under Sage Parashurama for only three and a half years.

The Father who conspired to kill his son...

Parashurama Kshetram... fourteen and half years after Vasusena left Hasthinapur.

Vasusena had become Sage Parashurama's most beloved student, their bond deepened by endless hours spent together, delving into the secrets of warfare and philosophy. The sage, pleased with Vasusena's dedication and thirst for knowledge, imparted his advanced fighting techniques with unparalleled enthusiasm. Vasusena, in turn, absorbed every lesson, every nuance, with the fervour of a parched earth soaking up the monsoon rains.

One day, after an exhausting hunt in the dense forests, Sage Parashurama, weary from their exertions, sought respite. Vasusena, ever attentive to his guru's needs, found a shaded spot under a large tree and offered his lap as a pillow. With a contented smile, the sage lay down and quickly fell into a deep, restful sleep, his trust in Vasusena absolute.

As Vasusena watched his mentor sleep, he marvelled at the serene expression on Parashurama's face. How could such a fierce warrior look so innocent in slumber? Pride swelled within him, knowing the sage's confidence in his vigilance. Yet, fate had a cruel twist in store for Vasusena.

The ground beneath them was teeming with insects. As Vasusena sat immobile, careful not to disturb Parashurama, a massive worm began its slow ascent up his thigh. Vasusena tried to brush it away, but any movement risked waking the sage. Resolute, he endured, even as the worm's sting pierced his skin.

The worm burrowed deeper, its sting like fire in Vasusena's flesh. Blood flowed freely from the wound, soaking his garment, inching towards the sleeping sage's head. The pain was excruciating, but Vasusena clenched his jaw, suppressing any sound.

The stench of blood eventually roused Sage Parashurama. As he awoke, he felt the warm, sticky fluid on his cheek and saw the blood-soaked cloth. He bolted upright, his gaze falling upon Vasusena's pain-stricken face and the wriggling worm. With a flick of his hand, the worm dissolved in the pool of blood, revealing a towering figure.

"Who are you?" the sage demanded, his voice cold and authoritative.

"I am Dansa, an Asura," the being replied in a deep, resonant voice. "You have freed me from this cursed form. Thank you, mighty Parashurama."

The sage's eyes narrowed. "Explain yourself."

Dansa bowed his head. "I belong to the Krita Yuga. In my youth, I fell in love with Sage Bhrigu's wife." Parashurama's eyes grew enraged. Sage Bhirugu was his ancestor. Seeing his anger the asura hurriedly explained. "For this transgression, Sage Bhrigu cursed me to live as a worm until I met a member of his clan who would release me. You, great Parashurama, are my liberator." With that, the Asura vanished.

Parashurama turned his penetrating gaze back to Vasusena, who was visibly shaken. "You are no Brahmin," the sage declared, his voice laced with anger. "No Brahmin could endure such pain without flinching. You have the resilience of a Kshatriya. Tell me the truth, who are you?"

Vasusena took a deep breath, knowing he could no longer hide. "I am Vasusena, son of Radha and Adhiratha, a charioteer by birth. I disguised myself as a Brahmin because I feared you would not teach me otherwise. I wanted nothing more than to learn the art of warfare from you."

Parashurama's face hardened, his disappointment palpable. "You deceived me. You claimed Brahminhood to learn what was forbidden to your caste. Your deceit will not go unpunished, Vasusena. I curse you! The knowledge you have gained through this deception will betray you when you need it most."

Vasusena was struck dumb, his heart shattering at the sage's words. He wanted to protest, to explain his desperate desire for knowledge, but he knew it was futile. Parashurama's judgment was final, his wrath unyielding. Vasusena, now cursed, could only watch in silent agony as the sage walked away, leaving him to grapple with the bitter consequences of his ambition and deceit.

The weight of Parashurama's curse bore down heavily on Vasusena. However when Sage Parashurama's wrath cooled down he gave Vijaya Dhanush to Vasusena.

History will state that Lord Parashurama discovered that Vasusena was lying to him after three and a half years and then cursed him. That's what the whole world will know. But what won't be written is that the teacher already knew the student's lie and was waiting to trap him and curse him.

He then chased him off. In the middle of his education, Vasusena was chased off. He received only half an education from Parashurama.

Vasusena learned astras but not about complete warfare because he didn't know that he needed to learn more. He learned how to fight with weapons, astras, and Divyastras, a specialized knowledge. His partial avatar gave all the knowledge he had about astras and weapons, and that's all.

But warfare is not just about astras and weapons. It is also about the art of wearing armour, knowledge of battle formations, and many other intricate details, and it is a comprehensive discipline. In addition to mastering astras and weapons, one must also understand the strategies, tactics, and subtleties of warfare to be truly proficient.

After teaching Vasusena the weapons and astras, Parashurama cursed him and chased him away in the middle of his training. His shame made Parashurama give Vasusena the Vijaya Dhanush, but his duty as the Avatar of Vishnu stopped him from giving the full education Vasusena needed.

In the middle of his education, Vasusena was chased out of the ashram. It took Vasusena two years to return to Hastinapur, a long absence. During all this time, Arjuna was still training, becoming stronger and more skilled. Arjuna had over thirteen years of higher-quality education and had more significant knowledge than Vasusena.

Sage Parashurama was one of the avatars of Vishnu; he already knew that Vasusena lied to him due to his divine insight on the very day Vasusena came to him for training. He could have chased Vasusena off the very first day the Suryaputra had come to him. He could have immediately rejected him. But he never did that because it was a deliberate choice.

This strategy was a calculated move to limit Vasusena's growth and potential in the art of warfare. By doing so, Parashurama ensured that Vasusena, despite his formidable skills, would always have a critical gap in his knowledge and training, thereby maintaining a balance in the epic conflict that was to come.

He did so because if Vasusena had been rejected by Parashurama, he would have eventually gone to Shukracharya to learn under him. By asking Parashurama to teach Vasusena, Krishna ensured that Vasusena received only partial education, preventing him from becoming an even greater threat.

If Vasusena ever went to Shukracharya, the daitya guru would have seen the potential in Vasusena and he would have nurtured it unconditionally. He was never the kind who cared about niyathi, varna, and other things. Kavyasaktaya was a man who too faced prejudice in his life and he would have seen himself in the young warrior and made sure to make him an all-rounded person.

He was a teacher and the only thing he was concerned about when someone came to him for his teachings was the competence and the passion of his student.

If he learned that the Vishnu avatar himself had marked Vasusena for death, out of spite he would have taught him even more. Vasusena would have been a warrior who had to be personally killed by Krishna if we learnt under Shukracharya's guidance.

After all, it was under his guidance that Meghanad, also known as Indrajit, became such a terrifying warrior, a testament to his teaching. Despite not knowing how to teach all Tridev astras, he would have made Vasusena do austerities and obtain them.

But to strangle Vasusena's potential, Krishna requested his senior avatar to take the Jyesta Kaunteya under his tutelage and curse him so he could be killed off easily.

Vasusena's words to Parashurama in this life might be cruel, but they are not a lie. They represent a harsh truth. Whatever flowery words the Vishnu avatars might tell themselves, it was still a betrayal to the young man who loved them unconditionally. This betrayal was not just a simple act of deceit; it was an act of malice. A guru was supposed to lead his students to be good people, not stunting their growth and plotting their death.

And yet the child never thought ill of his teacher. There is a reason why Vasusena always respected Krishna despite his friend loathing the eighth avatar of Vishnu. He felt the essence of his teacher in Krishna and gave Keshava the same respect he always gave to his teacher. They betrayed such a child.

Despite the grand narratives spun by the avatars, the reality remains that a devoted and loyal young man was sacrificed for the larger cosmic plan, an act that cannot be easily justified or forgotten.

Vasudeva even asked the earth to curse him to cripple him further unfairly. Indra created an illusion that made Vasusena kill the cow of the Brahmin, a deceit which led him to be cursed. Like thorns, Vasusena's growth was strangled by his upbringing, society, and curses.

His early life, the first phase of the life cycle, where his future would be determined, was strangled by the expectations and prejudices of society and by the mechanisms of Vishnu. The boy had the very world against him from the moment he took his first breath. His formative years were so strangled, and the child that was supposed to become a massive star turned into an average star, a stifled potential due to the mechanisms of the Vishnu avatar.

Despite these setbacks, after his tutelage under Sage Parashurama, Vasusena turned into a sun that was small but brilliant in its glory. His brilliance was undeniable, yet it was confined by the numerous curses and societal constraints placed upon him.

Even with these limitations, Vasusena's light shone brightly, a testament to his innate potential and resilience. His journey, marked by struggles and obstacles, was a reflection of how his destiny was constantly manipulated by divine interventions and earthly prejudices. Despite all efforts to stifle his growth, Vasusena managed to become a force of nature who was called Arjuna's equal. He should be much more yet the Lord of the Universe himself prevented him from becoming a colossal force he was capable of becoming.

An unusual friendship deeper than any bond...

For a child who was hated by the very world, he made a rare bond with Suyodhana. He found a friend who accepted and loved him for all he was. The odd yet beautiful friendship between Suyodhana and Vasusena was a unique relationship, something that cannot be put into words.

The beginning of their bond was born out of pragmatism on both sides, and it was a friendship that started for self-interests. Vasusena wanted to show the world that even a Suta could be great when given a chance. The chance was given to him by Jyeshtha Kaurava. Duryodhana needed an archer who could defeat Arjuna, and Vasusena proved himself to be a threat to the middle Pandava.

Yet, the friendship bloomed so beautifully that it can be compared to a lotus that bloomed on dirty soil. The place it started from was dirty, but the friendship they had was pure.

The two children, who would never have become friends in any other situation, understood each other in a way no one ever could due to fate. Their bond was beautiful because both of them knew and experienced what it meant to be hated by the world.

This friendship would have made Duryodhana a kinder person if Vasusena had stayed true to his morals. If he could have been more forceful and not strayed away from the path of Dharma, Duryodhana would have become Suyodhana again.

Duryodhana loved Vasusena more than the throne, more than his brothers, and even more than his own life. If Vasusena had ever threatened to leave him, Duryodhana would have eventually changed his ways.

Their relationship would have been a testament to the transformative power of true friendship. It was still a beautiful friendship no doubt about that. Despite the self-serving beginnings, it evolved into something genuine and profound.

The bond they shared was so deep that it had the potential to alter destinies and change hearts. Duryodhana's love for Vasusena was so strong that it could have led him back to the path of righteousness, had Vasusena stayed true to his morals instead of changing his nature out of gratitude for his friend.

Their friendship should be remembered as a rare and shining example of how even the most unlikely connections can blossom into something truly extraordinary and yet all it would be remembered for is that both of them pulled each other deep into adharma. Such a friendship remained as a cautionary tale.

This bond between Vasusena and Duryodhana was more than just a strategic alliance; it was a lifeline for both of them. In a world that scorned them, they found solace in each other.

This rare bond was characterized by mutual respect, deep understanding, and unwavering loyalty. Vasusena, despite his own sufferings, provided a sense of assurance that none of his elders ever gave the young prince and he became the strength of Duryodhana. Similarly, Duryodhana's unwavering support for Vasusena soothed the wounds the society left on his heart.

But Vasusena chose his gratitude towards his friend over his Dharma, and he supported him even in his evil schemes in a tragic display of loyalty. The final nail in the coffin was during that accursed Dyut Sabha where he insulted a woman who didn't deserve it.

He was deeply ashamed of his actions, but the words, once released like arrows, could not come back. This moment marked a turning point in his life, a stark realization of the path he had chosen. The sun had died, and it reached its next life cycle, the Red Giant, a phase of decline. Vasusena's inner turmoil grew as he grappled with the consequences of his unwavering loyalty and the moral compromises he had made.

2nd Phase in the life cycle of a star- Red Giant. 

The Red Giant phase was the beginning of the death of the star.

The loyalty that once seemed noble now revealed its darker side, a grim reality. Like a star exhausting its hydrogen and expanding into a red giant, Vasusena's life swelled with the consequences of his misjudgments. His fierce pride and refusal to abandon Duryodhana, even when the path was clearly wrong, only inflated his downfall, a tragic flaw. The grandeur of his abilities was overshadowed by the instability of his moral compass, which had tainted his brilliance.

But this is also the stage where the star glows at its brightest. He performed Digvijayayatra and conquered all four directions for his friend, a testament to his power and the love he had for his friend. All over Aryavartha, he became a warrior who was feared and respected. His prowess on the battlefield and his unyielding dedication earned him a legendary status.

He became well-known all over Aryavarha as Daanveer, and during this time, he let go of his jealousy and became kind. His generosity and benevolence towards others marked a significant transformation in his character. He gained nine sons through his wives, and he felt blessed with a sense of fulfilment. These years, despite the looming shadow of his past actions, were filled with personal growth and achievements.

3rd Phase in the Life cycle of the star- Planetary Nebula. The culling of the strength of the star.

But as all stars approach death, this star too started the next phase of his life, the Planetary Nebula, a phase of decline. The phase in which most of the strength of the star will leave, a weakening. In this phase, he was weakened in all aspects.

He lost battle strength when he gave away his armor when Indra came in the disguise of a Brahmin, when the King of the Gods disguised himself as a Brahmin and swindled him of his kavach and kundals.

Vasusena was warned of the deception of Indra beforehand, and yet he stayed true to his morals. He gave favour to the father of his enemy even though it meant his death. Some might say it's a fair trade. But a single-use weapon for his life is not an equal trade by any means.

The eighth incarnation of Vishnu exploited loopholes, he took away his physical and mental strength and rendered him weak and toothless just for his dear Parth.

He already betrayed his friend several times in his life. Vasusena loved Suyodhana very much. He loved him so much that in the fear of losing their friendship... he never stopped him from walking on the path of adharma. That was a betrayal to the very essence of their friendship. Hell he even encouraged and instigated Suyodhana against Pandavas. There is a reason why he was called the trunk of adharma.

He changed completely after seeing the Vishwaroop of Sri Krishna. He knew he was fighting on the side of adharma. Yet he decided to fight with his full might out of the love he had for his friend.

The God who came in a guise of a well-wisher...

The sun, too, is one of the stars, shining brightly in the vastness of space, a beacon of light in the cosmic expanse.

Or so Vasusena had been told when his cousin (could cousins be fair-weather?) had come to him on the shores of a river, sparkling with the brilliance of said light.

The cousin began to spin a tale of devotion and its much-loved offspring, a blessing; of impulsiveness and its acrid side-effect, helplessness; of a princess who had entered the second phase of life too soon and her golden progeny; of countless tears and a tumultuous river; of a silk-padded basket, overladen with flowers (since when, Vasusena wondered, did flowers make an acceptable substitution for maternity?) and a childless charioteer, in the right place at the right time.

Vasusena never forgot the day Keshav came to him to ensnare him and break him psychologically. In the evening of that fateful day, he had simply gone to the riverbank, as he used to sometimes on idle days, to think in silence and learn whatever nature had to teach him. That morning he was a prideful man who was willing to fight and defeat Pandava Sena or die trying for his dear friend. And when he returned it was with a heavy heart and his irrevocably shattered soul.

He wanted to snort bitterly whenever that thought crossed his mind. He had learnt no bird speech that day. Nor the exact color of Nayantara leaves under sunlight. But what he had learnt was what he vowed to never forget. And even in the next Vasusena never forgot that lesson. A mother's love had limits. Justice was all good only from the descriptions. And Narayana was crueler than anyone knew or would ever know.

The son of Adhiratha looked at Krishna, standing on the banks of the river, trying to convince him to join those he had been unfortunate enough to share a womb with on that day. Trying to make him believe that his birth family would love him.

But what kind of love would that be? The unconditional and selfless kind? But his mother had made the conditions of her love known already.

The kind that came from shared blood? What use was that when he had more of it from those who chose him than those who fate had saddled him with could ever give him?

Krishna might speak honeyed words about a princess helplessly trapped in the shackles of society but Vasusena was not stupid. Which king would ever turn away a demigod born of the eldest son of Aditi? Which kingdom would scorn and not celebrate the physical form of the blessing of a God? Of a notoriously ill-tempered sage?

Which loving mother would throw away her supposedly beloved child like a sin by leaving him to the mercy of the elements, instead of finding him an innocuous and gentle foster family?

And even the temptations made by Krishna were not actually worth anything. They were no more than a curse.

The truth was never as simple as the son of Devaki would have the world believe. Despite being the firstborn of Kunti, King Pandu never adopted him from Niyoga. He could never be a Prince of Gajarajya. He'd be a royal bastard, a stain on the character of his mother.

The truth, if revealed, would only dishonour her. And the little affection that was left in him for the Queen Mother, even after the reveal, would not allow him to dishonour the woman who had borne him in her womb for nine moon turns.

By adopting him, his father gave him a caste to call himself to be a part of. He might be a Kshatriya by birth but till his death and even after, he'll always be a sutaputra. He became a Kshatriya by defeating all the kingdoms in Digvijaya Yatra but his father will always be Adhiratha. By birth, he might be Suryaputra but by niyoga, he'd always be Adhirathi and he'll always be a sutaputra.

He may be suta by adoption and even though the world sneered at him... by Vedas he is a Kshatriya. He defeated all four directions for his friend and was called Duryodhana's most skilled warrior (and a few other colorful names like bloodhound of Kuru Vamsa etc.)

He will be recognised as a Kshatriya, Keshava had declared. He was already a Kshatriya by his deeds.

His blood brothers will recognise him as their elder and crown him as the King of Aryavarta. He scoffed at the very thought.

Even before anyone knew his capability, one Prince requested his father to crown him as a King just because he wanted to honor a skilled warrior without the barriers of caste. Who is better, a friend who trusted and honored him even before he showed himself to be a warrior capable of fighting the middle Pandava as an equal or the real brothers who always insulted him even after seeing his capability?

Which bond is greater? The friend or his blood brothers? The friend who loved him and never thought low of him even though he never was able to fulfil his promise. Or his blood brothers who spat on him like a dog.

His friend went against the entire world disregarding traditions for a man he only knew as a person who released him and stopped his humiliation in front of the entire arena. Vasusena could be an enemy or a spy but never even for one second did Suyodhana hesitate to call him his friend.

When asked what his strength is... Suyodhana proudly pointed at him and proclaimed. "Here is my strength. Here stands my hope. Here is the person I trust my very life with."

What is the riches of the entire world compared to the love of such a person? To betray him, wouldn't that ever be the biggest sin he would ever commit? And he was carrying enough sins around, as it was.

Panchami would be his wife? He cannot even look into her eyes because of his words during Dyut Sabha. And a younger brother's wife was equal to a sister. Moreover he already had wives who gave him the gift of nine beautiful children. Why did he need anyone else?

His birth mother would be happy if he joined the Pandavas. His real mother instilled loyalty in him. Suyodhana made him a king when the entire society laughed at him. He trusted him and loved him even after he gave away his armour and earrings. Even after he gave away one of the things that would help him win the war, Suyodhana never criticized him.

Leaving such a person for the comforts of the world? He scoffed at the very thought. He would die by the side of his dear friend than live by the side of his brothers who treated him like an enemy.

By the time Krishna ever came to him, he already knew he was fighting a losing battle. He knew war was inevitable even if the peace talks were realized. Even if the Pandu Putras were given a single house, war would occur as they already have alliances all over the country.

Doing a Rajasuya yajna, Digvijaya yatra or Ashwamedha yagna is not that difficult for them to start expanding their kingdom. He knew Pandavas better than any others. They won't rest till they make their brother the Samrat of Aryavartha. And this time they will raise their weapons against their cousins because there is no one holding them back.

He already had a dream where he saw Yudhistira eat buttered payasam in a golden cup, which showed him that the Pandavagrajah would be the Samrat of Aryavarta while he, Suyodhana and the Kaurava brothers and all the allies on their side traveled south which means death is waiting for them.

If he was lured away from the side of Kauravas, nothing but scorn would await him. He would be everything the Pandavas have ever declared him to be. An Adharmi who sold his dharma for riches.

Let it be known that Vasusena was willing to die because of his misplaced loyalty. It's not like his actions beforehand were that way. Better a fool than a traitor. He already betrayed his friend for his principles when he gave Indradev Kavach and Kundals as alms. He's unwilling to betray him even more.

Never did he think he would commit an even worse betrayal to his friend because of the woman who bore him.

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

The Cold-hearted mother

The Royal Garden of Hastinapur

The sun was rising, casting a golden hue over the lush gardens of Hastinapur. Birds chirped their staring songs of the day as a cool breeze rustled the leaves. By the lotus pond stood Vasusena, his face etched with lines of worry and contemplation. The impending war weighed heavily on his mind, a storm of emotions brewing within him. He just completed his Surya pooja and is waiting for subh gadiyas so that he could start his donations for the day.

From a distance, a figure approached. Draped in royal silks but veiled with a deerskin cloak, a figure walked with purpose, their face serene but their eyes betraying a sense of urgency. As she neared Vasusena, their soft footfalls made themselves heard to Vasusena's acute auditory senses. He turned to see who had disturbed his rare moment of privacy...and stared, his eyes widening in surprise at the person's unexpected presence.

"Queen Mother," he greeted, bowing respectfully. "To what do I owe this honour?"

Kunti's voice was steady as she cast her cloak away, her beauteous face catching the glow of Surya and her demeanour calm, and spoke. "Vasusena, I have come to speak with you about a matter of great importance. The war is upon us, and there are truths that must be faced."

Vasusena stiffened. Krishna's unwanted and unwelcome intrusion a few weeks prior had made him wary and weary of any confessor. All the same, he was not the kind of person who would allow his weariness to discomfort anyone. And this was his mother. He might know her as the Queen Mother and the woman he had respected since time immemorial but he was still her flesh and blood. Keeping his tone polite, he spoke, " I am listening."

Kunti's gaze softened at her eldests' involuntary reaction to her (at a different time, in a different world, she would never have allowed herself to give a child of hers cause to flinch away from her. But this was not that one and this must be lived in in its own way) but there was a steely resolve in her eyes.

"Vasusena, you are not the son of a charioteer. You are my son, born of the Sun God before I was married. You are the eldest of the Pandavas, rightful heir to the Kuru throne."

Vasusena reeled back as if struck by a whip. Kunti, seeing his expression, continued, "This is true, child. I do not lie or jape......"

"Why are you telling me?" Vasusena whispered.

Kunti stopped abruptly, ".....What?"

"Since we have first met in the Kalapradharsan not even once have you slipped up, let alone willingly reveal this to anyone, in all these years, I assumed you'd maintain your silence for the rest of your life. I was fine with that," Vasusena's tone was soft and didn't even waver a bit. "Why now of all times?"

Kunti was bewildered. "What do you mean, putra? Did you know already? How?"

"After the Sandhi Prastav... Sri Krishna came to me and told me the truth, Maharani Kunti''

Kunti took a deep breath and steeled herself. "Krishna told you? That saves me the time for an explanation. Son, we do not have much time. Hurry, you must come with me. You cannot remain entwined with adharma and face your blood brothers on the opposite side of this war. Listen to the plea of this old woman, your mother, and accompany me."

Vasusena's eyes, hardened by years of suffering and betrayal, met Kunti's pleading gaze. His voice, though calm, carried the weight of a lifetime of anguish. "O Kshatriya lady," he began, his tone measured yet firm, "I cannot accept your assertion that obeying your commands constitutes the highest of my duties. Mother, you abandoned me the moment I was born. This grievous injury, one that threatened my very existence, has marred my achievements and tainted my fame."

He paused, the silence filled with the unspoken pain of a forsaken child. "If indeed I am a Kshatriya, your actions have stripped me of all the rites and honors that my birthright entails. What enemy could have inflicted a greater wound upon me? Without a shred of mercy when it was most needed, you left me bereft of the sacred rites that define a Kshatriya's life. And now, you seek to command me, expecting filial loyalty today?Who needs enemies when he has a mother such as you?"

His words cut through the air like a blade. "You never sought my welfare as a mother should. Today, however, you approach me with a desire that serves your own interests. Who would not fear for Dhananjaya, who has Krishna as his charioteer? If I were to join the Pandavas now, who would not see it as an act of cowardice?"

He continued, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Until now, no one knew of my true lineage. If I were to declare myself their brother on the eve of battle and join the Pandavas, what would all the Kshatriyas say? I was showered with gifts and honor by the sons of Dhritarashtra, who seek my friendship to bolster their cause. How can I now betray that trust? They have treated me with the reverence of the Vasus towards Indra, believing in my might to lead them to victory. How can I shatter their hopes?"

Vasusena's resolve was unyielding. "With me as their anchor, they hope to navigate the treacherous ocean of battle. How can I abandon those who look to me as their only hope to cross these perilous waters?"

Kunti silently stared at him, stricken. Her hand was at her throat as the other hand clenched her ivory saree tightly. Her face was ashen.

Vasusena's expression softened as he looked at her. "Queen Mother, know this—I have already sworn not to kill any of your legitimate sons except Arjuna. Yet, I'm making this vow out of respect for you.

Yudhistira- A man who is more of a priest than a king. By Vedas, he is a Brahmin. Brahmanahatya is an unforgivable sin. Killing him would be a stain on my own character.

Bhimasena- If he fights against me... I'll break his pride but I'd leave his body and soul intact.

Nakula and Sahadeva- Even though they are not the children of your womb. They have been your children more than I ever could hope to. All these children of yours... even when I meet them in war... I'll not fight against them with my full capabilities.

But Arjuna... Arjuna is the one whom I'll fight with all my strength and soul. Because I took an asura oath to kill him. And Vasusena will always try to fulfil his oaths. After this war... either Arjuna or I will be alive. You'll always be the mother of five children." Folding his hands he asked for forgiveness. "Please forgive me, Devi Kunti. This is all I can give of you."

Kunti's eyes widened in surprise, a mix of relief and sorrow washing over her. "You have my gratitude, Vasusena. However, I must admit to there being another reason behind me seeking you out. It is said that you never would deny any person anything they ask of if they come to you after your prayer to Suryadev. Will you fulfill this widow's request?"

"Anything that is within my power to do so, Devi Kunti... I'll fulfill it."

Kunti's voice was firm, her gaze unwavering. "I know you honor your word. Please, grant me this. Please do not use any astra twice against Arjuna"

A long silence stretched between them, filled only by the gentle rustling of the garden and the distant calls of birds. For a while Vasusena only looked at her, gauging her eyes, her very soul. Long enough that, Kunti started to get nervous. Eventually, he nodded, his face set in a mask of resolve. "I promise you, Queen Mother. I will not use the same astra twice against Arjuna."

When Rajamata Kunti left... Vasusena smiled softly to himself. All his life he fought to receive love and respect from others. What a fool he was. His own mother... His own mother came here to collect and put a few branches for his chithi (funeral pyre).

It was said that there is no love greater than a mother's love. It was said that no care is greater than a father's care. In her eyes, he's always a stain on her honour.

It was clear to him that Maharani Kunti would always be Maharani Kunti to him. She'd never be Mata Kunti.

At least, he had two fathers to call his own. In that, he is blessed.

****

The final stage in the life cycle of a star- White Dwarf.

And yet, if the question were posed to anyone about who is the most dangerous warrior on the Kaurava side during Kurukshetra, without a single thought, the first answer that would appear in the mind would be Vasusena. And it's an undeniable truth.

Not Bhishma, not Drona, not Kripacharya, or anyone else. Anyone will say without a moment of hesitation, that Vasusena is the most formidable warrior on the Kaurava side during Kurukshetra.

His final battle with Arjuna was called the greatest battle in Dvapara Yuga. Arjuna's heart was filled with hate because of the death of his valiant son, and Vasusena lost three of his sons at the hands of Phalguna. Both loathed each other and fought at their full capacity.

Krishna dragged Vasusena as the final sacrifice on the altar of Dharma and chained him to it so he could be killed easily. And yet, it is Vasusena who made the entire Pandava army lose hope on the sixteenth day. Vasusena fought the combined might of the entire Pandava army except for Phalguna and instilled fear in their hearts. A small star like him should never have gone Supernova, and yet on the day of his death, his prowess immortalized his name in the annals of history.

Arjuna trained for war all his life. He has a higher knowledge of warfare, has knowledge of all astras, and received celestial weapons from his father Indra, who requested several gods to bless him with the knowledge of their personal astras. He performed tapasya to him (Shiva) and mastered all forms of archery with his blessing. He received Brahmastra and Bhramashira from his teacher Drona, Pashupatastra from himself, and Vaishnavastra and Narayanastra from Krishna.

Yet amidst his unparalleled skills and vast arsenal, it was his bond with Krishna that served as the cornerstone of his strength. Krishna's guidance and unwavering support bolstered Arjuna's resolve, turning him into an undefeated warrior on the battlefield.

Vasusena, on the other hand, didn't even have half the knowledge that Arjuna possessed. He had a standard chariot, a charioteer whom he could not trust, and several gaps in his knowledge. The only divine weapon he had was the Vijaya Dhanush, and that was all the advantage he possessed. Additionally, he was weakened both physically and emotionally. To top it all, he was burdened by unfair curses. Vasusena was akin to a dying snake, bashed on the head by six people before he came to face Arjuna. Above all, he was standing opposite a Vishnu avatar

And yet, the entire battlefield shivered at the might displayed by the Suryaputra. Even with all of the curses and the disadvantages he had, Krishna himself had to agree that if Vasusena ever got back on the chariot and rearmed himself with his Vijaya Dhanush, the war wouldn't have any end. That's how powerful Vasusena was. When he was finally killed, people would remember only the pale imitation of what he truly was.

When all the astras he knew ran out... he destroyed Brahmastra with just his yogic energy. A terrifying spectacle that even gods themselves have applauded him for. Any other astras except for Vaishnava Astra and Pashupatastra will meet the similar end.

In the universe where Krishna's plan has moved forward as he liked... Vasusena's chariot would have been struck in the mud and he would have been killed while lifting the chariot.

No one will ever know about the sun that should have burned brightly. His great potential will be reduced to just a cautionary tale, much like a White Dwarf. Vasusena's core principles will be the only thing remembered, overshadowing the full extent of his abilities and the brilliance he could have achieved.

He will be remembered as one of the greatest archers Dvapara Yuga has ever seen. He will be remembered as a person who, despite being great, destroyed his life due to wrong friendship and hubris.

History will not know the conspiracies done against him to keep him on a leash. Though his name will be etched in the annals of history, what's left in the dark will be the greatness that was never fully realized due to the sheer amount of manipulations against him.

If one were to draw parallels to the Ramayana, Vikarna can be seen as the Kumbhakarna of the Kaurava Sena, and Yuyutsu is akin to Vibhishana who abandoned his brother for Dharma. Duryodhana can be compared to Ravana. But Vasusena... Vasusena is comparable to Indrajit for the Kaurava Sena. Like Indrajit, he too fought against Vishnu's avatar and when he understood he was wrong, he willingly died on the altar of Dharma.

Vasusena could be the second mortal who is not an Avatar after Indrajit to achieve the title of 'Ati-Maharathi'. He would have achieved that status if he was given a proper education. And in this universe, he and Paravathi made sure he received the said education.

However, the original Indrajit, when hit by the Pashupatastra, chose to kill his father after coming back. This Indrajit's body, mind and soul are devoted to his friend. Because he knew if given a chance, Suyodhana too would be great. Every step he took was a calculated move in which he had a single focus... to change the fate of his friend.

What this Indrajit will do is something Shiva will have to see—a destiny yet to be revealed, one which he is eagerly waiting for with great anticipation. And after several failed worlds... Shiva too wanted to see a world where Dharma was established without cheating.

Vasusena's life had been, like that of a star, marked by a rise to greatness followed by a fall due to choices influenced by loyalty and pride. That cycle of brilliance and darkness had impacted not only his own fate but also the destinies of those around him. He was sure that, had that other world stayed intact, his journey would have served as a reminder of how individual choices can have far-reaching consequences, shaping the course of cosmic events and the destiny of the universe.

He got a second chance. Whether he could change his fate or succumb to it... it's in his hands. In his first life... the Gods played him like a puppet. In this life though... they couldn't. 

The strings have been cut off... All the strings the gods used to bind him were now in his hands. Maybe he'll use those strings to create beautiful art or he'll use those strings to strangle himself... no one knows. But he's very interested in watching this future unfold.

*********************************************************

Chapter Text

"You did promise Parameshwara to always follow Dharma. You also said that any Dharma you missed in past lives, you'd make up for in this one," Krishna reminded him, his voice steady. Vasusena nodded, his gaze drifting to the horizon where the sun began its descent, casting a golden hue over the land. The air was thick with the scent of earth, mingling with the distant fragrance of blooming flowers. Birds chirped their evening songs, a stark contrast to the simmering anger brewing in Radheya's heart.

"Then why aren't you standing with your brothers, who are linked to you not just by blood but by their just cause?" Krishna's words cut through the tranquil afternoon like a blade, sharp and unyielding, leaving the air heavy with their weight.

Vasusena's expression shifted, the simmering anger that had fueled him moments before giving way to incredulity. He mouthed the question to himself to make sure it had really been asked and he had not just hallucinated it—Was Krishna being serious?

As if the answer wasn't already clear?

He hated the principles of Yudhistira more than the adharma caused by Suyodhana. His very nature went against what Yudhisthira was. Everyone who knew him well knew this as a fact.

Had anyone else posed this question, he would have understood their perspective, dismissed it even. But Krishna himself posing this question made him wonder if the Pandavas too frequently grappled with the urge to declare the dark-skinned lord their Court Jester.

The last time they had crossed paths, the Prince of Yadavas had sought to shatter his very soul, to weaken him so that his eventual death would be but a formality.

So what was Keshava planning now? What new game was he playing?

Most might call him paranoid, but Vasusena knew better. He had seen too much, lived through too many futures to dismiss his gut instincts. And in all the futures he had witnessed, Padmanabha never interfered with the choices and decisions of those who had returned from the brink of death and was reincarnated by the power of Pashupatastra.

Keshava had always remained a distant observer, never intervening in the actions of anyone be it Mahamahim Bhishma, Guru Drona, Ashwatthama, or any of the others. His role had been that of the silent watcher, not the meddler.

Yet here he was, questioning Vasusena's loyalty, urging him to fight alongside his brothers. Something was fundamentally wrong with this picture. But what? What was Krishna's true intention? What unseen threads was he pulling in this intricate tapestry of fate?

Vasusena's mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of this puzzling scenario. And the more he thought about it, the more uneasy he became. Krishna was breaking his own pattern, disrupting the natural course of events. Why? What did he stand to gain from this? And more importantly, what did he know that Vasusena did not?

That perhaps was the most terrifying part of all.

The sun cast long shadows across the landscape, the golden light playing off Krishna's serene face, making it seem as if divinity itself was cloaked in the soft hues of dusk. Adhirathi's heart thundered in his chest, his inner turmoil etched into every line of his furrowed brow, his posture taut with the weight of a decision which, honestly, shouldn't have felt as impossible as it did. Another side-effect of the searing intensity of Narayana's gaze, perhaps.

"Should I stand by Dharma, or should I stand with my brothers, Keshava?" Vasusena's voice, though steady, carried the heavy burden of unresolved emotions, each word tinged with the pain of his life experience.

The eighth incarnation of Vishnu allowed a small, knowing smile to touch his lips at that question. "Are they both not the same, cousin?"

The Son of the Surya Deva gritted his teeth at the unwelcome familiarity in the question. "Keshava... their actions are seen as Dharma only because they are devoted to you and because you have chosen to stand by them. But they are not inherently Dharmic, Keshava. It is your presence that casts them in the light of righteousness," His voice, though respectful, held an edge, sharp and cutting through the placid air between them.

"Yet are they not better than the eldest son of Dhritarashtra?" Krishna's voice remained calm, but there was a challenge woven into his words, a subtle push against Vasusena's reasoning.

"Yudhishthira is a traditionalist, Keshava—a man who clings to Dharma's letter, but not its spirit," Vasusena began, his voice gaining strength as he spoke, the conviction behind his words clear. "He witnessed his father succumb to lust and suffer the consequences of a curse that led to his death.

That sight scarred him deeply, turning him into a man obsessed with rules, a man who locks his heart away in the name of righteousness. But in doing so, he forgets the emotional toll his strict adherence to Dharma exacts on those around him. He is a man who shows unwavering devotion to Brahmins and Kshatriyas, but remains blind to the suffering his actions inflict upon the lower castes."

Radheya paused, his gaze distant, filled with a sorrow that seemed to echo through time itself. "Yudhishthira is another Bhishma in making. He was revered as an intelligent and a Dharmathma king. And to the outsiders he is the epitome of a king, a calm and wise leader who would uphold Dharma at any cost."

Krishna nodded, his eyes reflecting the wisdom of countless ages. "That is true, and I accept your words, Vasusena." His tone was measured, almost as if inviting further reflection. But as if Krishna had not interrupted him at all, Vasusena continued, his voice gaining momentum like a storm gathering strength.

"But what most people fail to grasp is this: if a Dharma becomes the cause of unjust actions, if it becomes a tool for suffering, then what is the true value of such a Dharma?" Radheya's voice wavered slightly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"In my misplaced dharma for my friendship... I caused several people to suffer. Mahamahim Bhishma's oath was dharma to him but you knew how many people suffered for it." The pain of his past mistakes and the weight of his decisions were palpable, etched into every word he spoke. "Yudhistira would regret the pain it would cause another person. But if given a chance under the same circumstances... he would not change his ways and would do it again without a question."

"Duryodhana is an adharmi who delighted in tormenting his cousins," Krishna's voice was sharp, like a blade cutting through the fog of Adhirathi's words. "From the poisoning of Bhima to the house of lacquer, to the hall of dice, and many more sins too numerous to count. And yet, why do you still stand by him, Vasusena?"

Vasusena's shoulders slumped slightly, his eyes dropping to the ground as he replied softly, "Because, Keshava, despite all his flaws, he has never hurt his loved ones out of a misplaced sense of Dharma. Suyodhana does not care if others think he is an adharmi.

As long as his loved ones were happy... there are no sins he wouldn't commit to keep them that way." His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried the strength of unbreakable resolve.

"Even if I ever considered joining your side or Yudhistira, I could never know when I would be treated as nothing more than a dispensable pawn, easily sacrificed when the time came.

Because for his dharma... Yudhistira didn't even hesitate to make his brothers suffer. What am I in the face of that?"

Vasusena paused, his gaze shifting to Krishna's, trying in vain to search for what the Vishwadhipathi might be thinking. "And though it has caused me immense pain, I understand your actions, Keshava. I know why you have done what you have done, especially after receiving the gift from Shankara.

In your quest to establish Dharma, you cannot afford to grieve, even if it means the death of your loved ones. Because you know, deep in your heart, that those sacrifices are necessary to ensure the survival of the world, to prevent Kali from growing even stronger."

Vasusena's voice grew firmer, but also more tinged with bitterness, as he continued, his eyes now burning with the intensity of molten amber. The warmth with which he had spoken of Suyodhana earlier seemed to evaporate like dew under the scorching midday sun. "But Yudhistira... Yudhistira is different. He has no such constraints. His actions are governed by his personal Dharma, by his rigid adherence to rules.

If he ever feels that his personal Dharma has been dishonored, he wouldn't hesitate to cause pain to others, without a second thought for the consequences. That is a good quality for a person in the position of Yama Dharmaraja. Impartiality and honesty are good qualities for a judge, Keshava. But for a king, empathy is worth much more."

Vasusena's eyes, once filled with sorrow, now blazed with a fierce resolve. "If I stand by Suyodhana's side, I know that he would never make a choice that would cause pain or inconvenience to me or his loved ones, just to be seen as a good man. He may be flawed, but he is loyal, and he would never abandon those he cares about."

Krishna remained silent, his expression inscrutable. For a moment, the only sound was the whisper of the wind through the trees, as if the world itself was holding its breath. And in that silence, the truth of Vasusena's words hung heavy in the air, undeniable and inescapable. Even Krishna knew that Vasusena was not wrong.

Vaikartana remained silent for several moments. Finally, he spoke, his voice measured, "Can I ask you a few questions, Anaya?"

Krishna's gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing slightly. "For every question of yours I answer, you must answer one of mine, Ravisuna."

Vasusena inclined his head, accepting the terms. "Then please, ask your question first."

Without hesitation, Krishna's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "You've spoken at length about your views on Yudhistira. What, then, is your view on Duryodhana?"

A brief silence fell between them before Suryaputra spoke, his voice carrying an unexpected tenderness. "Suyodhana... even as he grew into a man, he never quite shed the innocence of a child. Bratty, temperamental, but with a heart that was boundlessly kind. An overgrown baby—that's who my Suyodhana is." A faint smile touched Vasusena's lips, a rare softness in his hardened demeanour.

"He is an iconoclast who cared little for the traditions handed down by his ancestors. To him, wealth and status mean nothing. He makes friends with both the rich and the poor alike, judging them solely by their capabilities and their character. When his heart is not clouded by hatred for the Pandavas, his love knows no bounds. He cares deeply, without discrimination, for all the people in his kingdom."

Vasusena's voice softened as he spoke of his friend, his words laced with both pride and sorrow. "To those who looked in from the outside, he was an immoral and terrible king. But in the remote mountains, temples were built in his name. There, among the tribals whom he treated with respect, he is revered as a god.

Suyodhana may have been loathed by many in the kingdom, thanks to the words of Prime Minister Vidhur, but those who truly knew him saw a different side. Even his own mother's heart turned cold against him, and that... that was the starting point of his chessboard of politics. His every move was seen with hate and loathing."

Karna paused, his eyes distant as if recalling memories etched in pain. "But when he died, Keshava... the entirety of Hastinapur wailed. They mourned for their intelligent prince, their fierce protector. For a man who was despised at the beginning of his life, to be loved so deeply in death... it speaks volumes about the kind of king he truly was."

A shadow of sadness crossed Radheya's face, but his voice remained firm. "To transform such deep-seated hate into love, he had to have been a good king. Even you cannot deny this truth, Keshava.

The only difference between him and Yudhistira is that one of them had a protector like you by his side, guiding him, while the other had only those like me and Gandharraj, who should have guided him in the right way but were responsible for him sinking further into the well of adharma."

Radheya's eyes met Krishna's, a challenge burning within them. "One turned from an average ruler into a great king because you stood beside him, lending your wisdom and strength. The other, despite his excellence, will be remembered in the annals of history as an adharmi, a villain, because you favored the Pandavas, making him your enemy by default."

Vasusena's voice took on a tone of resigned bitterness as he continued, "Against Vishnu, there is always Kali. The moment you pledged your support to Sahadeva and decided to fight on the side of the Pandavas, Suyodhana's fate was sealed. From that moment, his mind, and the minds of those who stood with him, became the stronghold of Kali."

Krishna's gaze was cold, his voice dripping with scorn, as he spoke, "You laud Suyodhana as a good king, Karna, and yet you seem to overlook a crucial detail. Did you forget that both of you, in your mutual malevolence, orchestrated the public humiliation of a woman who was, in Suyodhana's case, akin to a sister, and in your case, a daughter?

You ordered Draupadi to be stripped naked in the assembly—an act of cruel degradation—and you precious Duryodhana did nothing to stop its conduction. Yes, there was the insidious influence of Kali, but does that absolve him of such cruelty? Does it make right the wrongs committed against an innocent woman?"

Krishna's words cut in sharply, each syllable a piercing indictment. "In Suyodhana's kingdom, a woman's honor was reduced to nothing more than a plaything for the whims and lusts of men. So tell me Vasusena, why are you still clinging to the notion that he is better than Yudhistira, the son of Yama, the king of Dharma?"

Vasusena, his face a mask of inner turmoil, remained silent for several minutes, the weight of Krishna's accusations settling heavily upon him. Finally he spoke, his voice stoic and even,in sharp contrast to his eyes . "I agree with you, Keshava."

Krishna nearly stumbled, his mental speech for countering the expected argument stopping mid-way. Vasusena conceding so readily was a surprise to him. "So, you agree, then?" Krishna pressed, his tone a mix of surprise and challenge.

"Yes, I agree. In Suyodhana's kingdom, a woman's honor is nothing more than a plaything for the lust of men." Vasusena's tone darkened as he continued. "May I ask my question now, Madhava?"

Krishna's gaze sharpened, sensing the gravity of Vasusena's forthcoming question. He knew that this inquiry would probe a dark and uncomfortable truth. Tendrils of unease formed in both of their hearts, yet Krishna steeled his heart. He nodded in affirmation.

"In Suyodhana's kingdom, a woman's honor is reduced to nothing more than a plaything for the lust of men. " Vasusena's voice trembled with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "So what exactly is a human in the Kingdom of Yudhistira?"

Krishna's expression hardened, his silence an ominous reflection of the gravity of the question posed.

"Speak, Keshava," Vasusena insisted, his gaze piercing through Krishna's silence. "What is a human in the Kingdom of Yudhistira?"

When Krishna remained silent, Vasusena's amber eyes darkened with mirthful disdain. "No answer?" he asked, his voice taking on a bitter edge. "Very well, I shall answer my own question."

"In the Kingdom of Yudhistira," the son of Radha declared with a mocking smile and a shark-like smile, "a human is nothing more than a slave. A person is enslaved by the caste system, bound to their social strata. They are subservient to their elder brother, their family head, and ultimately, the king himself." A deep wrath mingled with his words as he nearly growled out his answer.

"Even a slave has more dignity than this. A human in Yudhistira's kingdom is nothing but a puppet, dancing to the whims of those in power.

If they refuse to conform, they are branded as adharmi." His gaze was piercing, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. "In Yudhistira's kingdom, one's birth, caste, and might determine their worth. Might make right."

Krishna remained silent, his eyes reflecting the turmoil within him. In Dwapara Yuga, the caste system was intended to serve societal order, but it had been perverted into a tool of oppression. As Kali Yuga approached, these injustices would only deepen, with the system becoming more grotesque and exploitative.

But Vasusena had not yet reached the most disturbing part of the accusations against his younger brother.

Vasusena continued, his voice growing more intense, his gaze searing in its wrath. "You spoke of how, 'In Suyodhana's kingdom, a woman's honour is nothing more than a plaything for the lust of men.' And I agree—absolutely, I agree.

We committed that abominable sin. And for that all of us died in the Kurukshetra. But tell me Keshava, what is a woman's honour in the Kingdom of Yudhistira?

Krishna still remained silent and Vasusena snorted. "You cannot answer this because women's honour does not exist. In Yudhistira's kingdom, a woman does not even possess personal honour. Her honour belongs to her father, and later to her husband. She is denied autonomy. Hell, in Yudhistira's kingdom, a woman has no basic rights."

Krishna's expression was inscrutable as Vasusena's words cut through the silence. "She is nothing more than property, a possession to be controlled by her father and later her husband.

Yudhistira, with his supposed adherence to Dharma, treated the most formidable queen in the entirety of Aryavartha as an object to be owned. The way he abandoned her dignity..." Vasusena's voice grew harsh, his eyes reddening with rage. "...he sang poems and praises of her beauty and stated that if we won we could do whatever we wished to do to her."

Anyone could hear the anger in Vasusena's words. But Krishna could see the deep loathing and dissatisfaction in the eyes of Radheya. He was well aware of the harsh truths about Yudhistira's kingdom.

"Keshava," Vasusena continued, his voice laden with a sombre finality, "until the end of Kali Yuga and the beginning of the next Satya Yuga, women have to continually fight for their rights.

They will be enslaved by the whims of men, the whims of society, denied the chance to pursue their own futures, to learn freely, to love as they choose. They have no free will. Their free will was stripped off on that cursed day. Their very existence will be controlled by others."

Vasusena's gaze turned mocking and almost scornful. "Imagine, Keshava, what Devi Satyabhama would do if Yudhistira dared to utter these words in her presence."

Krishna snorted inwardly. As if he needed a clarification in this matter.

Satyabhama's wrath was legendary; she would undoubtedly react with fierce retribution. With her independent spirit, his fiery wife would not hesitate to castrate anyone who dared to utter such blasphemy in her presence even for a single moment.

यद्यदाचरति श्रेष्ठस्तत्तदेवेतरो जनः |

स यत्प्रमाणं कुरुते लोकस्तदनुवर्तते ||

"Whatever action is performed by a great man, common men follow. And whatever standards he sets by exemplary acts, all the world pursues."

"Yudhistira was seen as a great King because you proclaimed him as one. And future generations will follow in his footsteps," Vasusena's voice was laden with sorrow. "Instead of a woman being the Lakshmi of the house... she'll be nothing more than a tool in the hands of her father, her husband and the men around her. 

Instead of being the structure of the society, the varna vyavastha will be a point of arrogance for the fools who rest upon the laurels of their ancestors. And it will be a tool of oppression.

So, Madhava... tell me, where are humans treated better? In the Kingdom of Yudhistira or in the Kingdom of Suyodhana? At least answer this."

Krishna's lips tightened into a thin line. He did not refute Vasusena's pointed observation, the weight of the question evident in his silence. "Ask your question, Karna."

A dark amusement poured out of Vasusena's eyes. "You always have answers to every question I pose. So why are you not answering this basic question?" His voice broke with sadness. "Never mind. If you had not given the vow to stand with the Pandavas, would Suyodhana and his brothers still be branded as adharmis?"

Krishna's response was firm, almost pitiless. "Yes." His gaze was unwavering, resolute. Vasusena managed a wan smile, his expression a mix of resignation and sorrow. "Because Arjuna is Nara to my Narayana. He is the other half of my soul. Even if I had never given that promise to Sahadeva, I would still fight on the side of the Pandavas."

Vasusena's voice grew bitter. "You should have followed the Parashurama avatar's approach and simply killed us all then. It's just our karma that we are living in an era where the Vishnu avatar plays the role of a politician. Your turn, Keshava."

Krishna's eyes narrowed as he considered the weight of Vasusena's words. "Why are you asking questions you already know the answers to, Karna?"

"I'm merely following in your footsteps, Narayana. You too are doing the same," Vasusena replied with a glib smile. "Your turn, Keshava."

Krishna's demeanour shifted as he prepared to delve into a more challenging part of their exchange. "I'll return to my original question then." His voice was devoid of emotion, masking the internal struggle he faced.

This was the most difficult part for Krishna. He needed to gauge the extent of Kali's influence on Vasusena and determine how much hold this warrior had over his ripus. To do this, he had to allow Kali to influence Vasusena further, revealing the full depth of his inner turmoil.

"You did promise Parameshwara to always follow Dharma. You also said that any Dharma you missed in past lives, you'd make up for in this one. "Then why aren't you standing with your brothers, whom you have never performed your duties to in your previous lives?"

The son of the Son raised a brow. "I have missed my brotherly duties? When, pray tell, Keshava?" Vasusena's voice was sharp, the wrath in his tone unmistakable.

Krishna's eyes glinted with a mocking lilt. "You fought on the side of the Kauravas against your own brothers, Karna. You neglected your brotherly duties and stood by Suyodhana.

You are directly responsible for the deaths of Abhimanyu and Ghatotkacha. Tell me, how did you uphold your duties as a brother?" Krishna's smile was laden with scorn. "Even in this life, you are still chasing after Gandharinandana, despite everything you have done for him in your previous life."

The mention of Gandharinandana and the deaths of his kin ignited a fierce wrath in Vasusena. Krishna watched as the visage of Kali flickered at the edges of Vasusena's consciousness, trying to invade his thoughts.

"You claim I failed in my brotherly duties, Devakinandana," Vasusena's voice was a dangerous whisper, his face a mask of unsettling calmness. The only indication of his rage was the tightening of his fist, the knuckles whitening with the force of his grip.

Krishna's gaze remained steady, though a hint of sadness flickered in his heart. Karna still had yet to understand the gravity of the situation. He is still ruled by his ripus. Even though he had much more control than in his previous life... for the plans made by Neelakanta he needed more control.

The boon bestowed upon Vasusena by Parameshwara would not affect Krishna, as his divine nature rendered him immune to such enchantments. No one else could do this because Vasusena will sniff out their intentions in less than a second

"You accuse me of neglecting my brotherly duties in my quest to fulfill my role as a friend," Vasusena continued, his voice low and measured. He tilted his head slightly, eyes fixed on Krishna, as if trying to decipher the true intent behind his words.

Krishna remained outwardly calm, nodding slowly, though internally he was preparing for the next phase of his strategy. He knew the significance of what was unfolding. The trap had been set, and now he needed to see if Karna would fall into it or rise above it. Both will serve him well but he wished that Vaikartana would rise above it.

"Even when I knew that killing Yudhishthira would end the war, I never did it. Forget killing him—I never even attempted to capture him," Vasusena's eyes burned with a fierce intensity, as the influence of Kali grew stronger in his mind. His rage was palpable, a stark contrast to the self-control he usually exhibited.

"Despite knowing Bhimasena had vowed to kill my hundred friends, I promised Maharani Kunti that I would not kill Yudhishthira, Bhima, Nakula, or Sahadeva. I refrained from fighting with my full strength, bound by my oaths and principles.

Even when Bhimasena had split more innocent blood than guilty ones... I never fought at my full capacity. And by doing so, I betrayed Suyodhana in the most horrifying way," he growled, his voice echoing with deep sadness.

"You accuse me of having a hand in the deaths of Abhimanyu and Ghatotkacha," Vasusena sneered, his voice laced with anger. "Who convinced Arjuna to divert his attention to the Trigartas knowing that Dronacharya had planned for Chakravyuha?

Who urged Bhima to summon Ghatotkacha to battle—even though single heirs to kingdoms were expressly forbidden from participating lest their lines come to an end. The same maxime by which the King of Manipura was prohibited from entering Kurukshetra—at night? When it is strictly against the rules of a Dharmayudhha to commence or continue a battle past sundown? Because I certainly did not do any of those. And neither did Suyodhana.

He paused, his eyes clouded with regret. "Do I regret participating in his death? Yes, I do. We butchered him in a way no warrior deserves, let alone a child barely on the cusp of manhood. But even knowing the weight of that guilt, I would do it again without a second thought."

The memories of that day flashed before his eyes, and his voice took on a steely edge. "Because on that day, Abhimanyu killed more than ten thousand soldiers. He killed two of my brothers. He killed Lakshmana Kumara, a person dear to my heart, and countless other children of the Kauravas."

Karna's voice grew colder as he recounted the battle. "On Guru Drona's advice, we disarmed him. But even then, he continued his attack. That's why I said the Chakravyuha was immoral. He was trapped, with no way out, unable to retreat. Too proud to surrender. On that day, he was equal to Shiva in our eyes, and like the Pandavas, we could not allow a warrior of such power to live."

Karna's expression hardened as he continued. "He killed many sons of Kauravas and his very task is to kill our children. He might be Arjuna's favorite child but to our eyes he's just another soldier trying to kill us.

Even a hen, when her chicks are threatened by an eagle, will shield them with her own body. A mere hen, which we kill to eat whenever we feel like it, will bravely face the mighty eagle to protect her young.

We are Kshatriyas who are trained in war, Keshava. What more will we do?"

"A few months before the war, all I knew of Abhimanyu was that he was the son of my most hated enemy, nothing more.

On that day,he slaughtered the children who grew up before our eyes—the children we swore to protect. His very job is to kill the children of Kauravas. Is his blood the only worthy one? Doesn't our children's lives matter?"

The death of Abhimanyu is one I will carry on my conscience for my lifetime." Vasusena's gaze hardened the resolve in his voice unmistakable. "But will I allow you to shame me for it? No. I did my duty just as you have done.

You performed your duty to fasten his end as I did. He who commits a crime and he who lets the crime happen silently are equally guilty. This is the first lesson my mother ever taught me and by this same universal logic, you are as culpable as I or Suyodhana."

Karna then snorted darkly and continued, "And don't even get me started on Ghatotkacha. You have no right to pin the blame of your plan on me. I killed him because of my duty. You, on the other hand, sent him off like cattle to the gallows to save your precious Arjuna from Vasavi Shakti given to me by Indradeva. Don't try to deny it. I know."

His expression hardened further. "As for my duties to the Pandavas... those ended in Kuntibhoja on the bank of the Ganga decades ago, when the one person who should have cared for me above all surrendered me to the tide."

Krishna's displeasure was palpable, even though his face remained calm and composed. The situation was far more dangerous than it had ever been before. Kali should not have power over this warrior—especially not in this life. The devastation that could be wrought if Kali controlled Vaikartana was unimaginable. Adhirathi's temper was still a weakness, one that needed to be conquered. But for now, Krishna had to break Kali's hold on him.

"And yet, you stood beside Suyodhana all your life."

"I stood by him, and yet I never performed my duties as a true friend." Just as Krishna expected, the moment he mentioned Radheya's friend, the dark influence of Kali dissipated in an instant. For Vasusena... Suyodhana is both his strength and weakness.

All the wrath that had consumed him melted away, replaced by a deep, overwhelming shame. His head bowed, and tears began to fall.

"Suyodhana gave me his friendship, and I betrayed him," Vasusena whispered, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. "I betrayed him in so many ways that I feel ashamed of myself."

The tears fell faster as he continued, his voice thick with sorrow. "I supported Suyodhana in his conspiracies against the Pandavas. I thought I was doing it out of loyalty, not out of selfishness, save for my enmity with Arjuna. I believed my actions were selfless, aligned with my friend's wishes, to prove my loyalty."

Karna's voice wavered, filled with the pain of realization. "But a true friend would have guided him away from such evil deeds. A true friend would have stopped him from walking down a dark path."

He paused, his voice barely above a whisper. "Suyodhana made me the King of Anga so that I could challenge Arjuna. Some might see this as a bribe, and perhaps it was. He wanted an archer who could defeat Arjuna, yes. But he had already secured my loyalty."

Vasusena's tears continued to flow as he spoke, his heart laid bare. "He never needed to call this sutaputra his friend. He never needed to love me so much. He never needed to place me in his heart above all his brothers and relatives."

I supported Suyodhana in all his schemes, and at times, I even devised them.

"I knew a fair fight with the Pandavas was futile, so I suggested we crush them before the Vrishnis and Panchalas could come to their aid. It was a brilliant strategy, but was it the strategy of a true friend? No. A true friend would have urged him to seek honor, not deceit."

His eyes darkened with the memory of his most grievous mistake. "When I provoked Dushasana to strip Draupadi, I sealed the Kauravas' fate as villains beyond redemption. What kind of friend leads another into such heinous acts? I knew it was wrong, and yet I did it, driven by my own hatred."

Vasusena's fists clenched as he recalled his next betrayal. "I even encouraged Suyodhana to mock the Pandavas in their exile, driven by my own desire to see them suffer. In doing so, I dragged him into the Ghosha Yatra, where the Yakshas attacked us. When danger loomed, I fled, leaving Suyodhana at their mercy. What true friend abandons his friend in peril?"

His voice broke with sorrow as he spoke of his final betrayal. "I promised Kunti to spare all her sons except Arjuna, and I kept this secret from Suyodhana. I kept my promise at the cost of my friend's cause and his brothers' lives. What true friend lies about something so crucial in war? This act was not just betrayal—it was high treason."

Vasusena's tears fell freely now, each drop a testament to his regret. "Through it all, Suyodhana remained steadfast. He never questioned my failures, never complained. He ignored my mistakes, hoping against hope that I could change his destiny. He proved to be a better friend than I ever was to him."

His voice grew softer, filled with the weight of his self-condemnation. "In the end, it is clear to me. I, Vasusena, failed as a true friend. I let my ego, my hatred, and my ambition blind me to what Suyodhana truly needed—a friend who would guide him towards righteousness, not an enabler who would lead him further into darkness."

The tears streaming down Vasusena's face mirrored the turmoil in his heart. "You said that at the expense of performing my brotherly duties, I honored Suyodhana. But at the expense of my friendship, I honored Devi Kunti's words. I was the reason for the death of not just myself, but also our children and everyone who supported us during Kurukshetra. I betrayed my friend in ways that even he cannot comprehend."

His voice quivered as he whispered, "Suyodhana might call Guru Drona, Mahamaahim Bhishma, the traitors, but in truth, I am the actual traitor on his side. Even if I were reborn a hundred more times, I will never be able to cleanse the sin I have committed against the eldest son of Dhritarashtra."

"Even if Parameshwara and all the Gods came to change my mind... Vasusena is, and always will be, Suyodhana's friend."

Vasusena's voice grew fierce, laced with a steely resolve. "I didn't fail in my brotherly duties because I was never a brother to the Pandavas. That bond was never mine to honour.

I didn't fail as a son either. I died for the legitimate sons of my cruel mother, even though I knew it meant the death of all my friends... I honoured her wishes.

Even when my own sons were slaughtered by those Pandu Putras, I held back. I didn't unleash my full strength upon them and vanquish them. I owe nothing to the Pandavas; I fulfilled my duties to them in my previous life."

His eyes burned with the intensity of his convictions as he continued. "What I never fulfilled was my duties as a friend. And I promised Parameshwara that I would try to fulfil all the duties I failed to perform in my previous life. So I'll fulfil the duties of a true friend in this life."

Krishna watched him closely, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, though it did not reach his eyes. 'Foolish little child,' he thought. Yet, he knew he had achieved what he came for.

Without another word, Krishna turned and left the place, his next destination clear in his mind—the Palace of Hastinapur.

"Devi Gandhari..." The deep, respectful voice of the door guard resonated through the chamber, drawing her attention just as she finished her prayers. "Mahaamahim Bhishma, along with Devi Kunti, Prime Minister Vidura, Kulguru Kripa, and a young, unknown child, have come to visit you today."

Gandhari's brow furrowed slightly at the unexpected assembly. "Did they mention why they are here, Guha?" she inquired, a hint of irritation colouring her tone.

"The child claimed to be a cousin of the Pandavas and expressed a desire to see you," Guha replied respectfully. "When I asked them to state their purpose, the child simply requested that his name be conveyed to you, saying you would allow him entry."

Gandhari's irritation dissolved, replaced by a dawning realization that brought a smile to her lips. She didn't need to hear the name to know who it was. "It's Vasudeva Krishna, isn't it, Guha?" she asked, her voice softening with affection. The guard nodded in confirmation.

Despite what Vasusena had said about this avatar branding her children as adharmis, Gandhari felt no anger in her heart. He was Vishwadhipathi himself, the Lord of the Universe. She believed that unless her children had truly strayed far from the path of righteousness, he would not have opposed them. Perhaps now, with him here, she could finally ask how to guide her children back to the path of Dharma.

"Only let the child come in, Guha," she instructed with calm authority. Then, turning to her maid, she added with a touch of warmth, "Sugandha, please order kheer to be prepared. Vasusena mentioned that Sri Krishna has a fondness for sweets made with milk. I hope it pleases him."

The guard shifted uneasily, his discomfort evident. When Gandhari didn't hear his retreating footsteps, she asked, her voice sharp with curiosity, "Is there an issue, Guha?"

"The child said he would not enter without those accompanying him, Devi Gandhari," Guha replied, his tone tinged with uncertainty. "He insisted that either you welcome him and everyone with him, or you turn them all away together."

Gandhari was at a loss for words. She had vowed never to associate with her husband's kin again, a resolution born out of deep pain and disillusionment. Once the princes had completed their education and Yudhistira ascended the throne of Hastinapur, she planned to remain no more than five years, enough time for her children to secure their positions through their own merit and strength.

But how could she possibly turn away Anandadagara—Sree Maha Vishnu himself—from her home? The mere thought was inconceivable to her. Torn between her anger and her devotion, she reluctantly instructed Guha to let them all in.

As they approached, Gandhari's ears caught the sound of unfamiliar footsteps—light, yet carrying an unmistakable weight. The steps were flanked by the familiar, heavier treads of her kin.

What she could not see, but the servants around her surely did, were the astonished faces of those accompanying the young boy.

(Bhishma's POV)

Vasudeva Krishna... It still boggles their minds that a child of Devaki and Vasudeva has survived. They thought him to be a fraudster, but the child, wielding the power of Maya, revealed the truth of his birth, dispelling all doubts with a vision of what actually transpired on that fateful night.

Even then, scepticism lingered among them. His presence was oddly comforting, yet the question gnawed at them: Why was he here? Was it to seek help in overthrowing his tyrant uncle, Kamsa?

"Uncle Kamsa is destined to die by my hands in four years, Mahaamahim Bhishma," the boy declared, his eyes blazing with untold wrath. Bhishma jolted, startled—he had never spoken his question aloud. "I will kill him myself, beheading him with these hands, and my brother Rama will slay his eight brothers. We need no assistance from anyone else. The two of us are more than enough."

"So why have you come here, Krishna?" Kunti asked, her voice gentle, but laced with curiosity and concern attempting to soothe the wrath that appeared in the face of the young child.

"I'm here to help you and your family, Aunt Kunti," he replied after calming himself down.

"Help us how Vasudeva?"

"Queen Gandhari and King Dhritarashtra have shut their doors and their hearts against you," the boy spoke softly, yet his words cut through the air like a blade. Bhishma's hand instinctively reached for his sword. No one beyond the palace walls should have known this. The kingdom's secrets had been tightly guarded, and any spies who tried to leak such sensitive information had been swiftly eliminated.

"How did you know?" Bhishma growled, his voice filled with suspicion and barely controlled anger.

But the boy merely smiled a serene expression that disarmed Bhishma in an instant. It was an otherworldly smile, one that seemed to dissolve all tension, making Bhishma's anger dissipate like mist in the morning sun. Even Kunti, who had remained wary, found herself softening at the sight of it.

Something about this child—no, about Krishna—was deeply unsettling, yet profoundly calming. It was as if his very presence could command peace in the most tumultuous hearts.

"Anyway... today, I'll gain you entry into the room of Devi Gandhari."

The claim was audacious, almost reckless. It had been nearly three months since the children left for Gurukul, and Devi Gandhari had not permitted anyone into her private chambers unless it was strictly necessary for matters concerning the kingdom.

He recalled Dronacharya's words about that fateful night after Yudhisthira's coronation, where Rishiputra had secretly followed Dhritarashtra's eldest son. The conversation between Suyodhana and that infernal Suta had left a lingering unease in Rishiputra's heart and he told him what transpired on that night.

Despite knowing that Vasusena's presence was the catalyst for the hatred festering within Suyodhana, Bhishma could not bring himself to accuse, let alone kill, the one responsible.

The poison whispered into Suyodhana's ears remained a mystery to them all. Dronacharya, wise and cautious, had advised against any rash actions, and though it pained him, Bhishma had reluctantly agreed.

Because Vasusena was the most intelligent and dangerous adversary he had seen since Gandharraj Shakuni. He was a child of mellifluous words and a dark heart filled with poison. Without knowing the nature of the poison pumped into the heart of Suyodhana... they would be going in blind. And the last time he dared to accuse Vasusenawithout concrete proof... that infernal suta had humiliated him in front of the entire assembly.

"You might think this is a bit preposterous, Mahaamahim," Krishna's eyes bored into Bhishma's very soul. "Suyodhana shared only half of his conversation with Vasusena. That alone was enough to harden the Queen's heart against you."

Bhishma's mind raced—how could this child know such things? And if only half of that vile exchange was revealed, how much more venomous could the other half have been? What dark magic had Vasusena poured into Suyodhana's heart?

Krishna sighed, a sound both weary and resolute. "Anyway... Devi Gandhari will never turn me away," he stated confidently, almost as if he were speaking of a foregone conclusion. "It is time for her, and for all of you, to know who Vasusena truly is."

Despite the wildness of Krishna's claims, Bhishma felt an inexplicable trust growing in his heart. There was something about this child that commanded belief, even in the face of the impossible. Without hesitation, Bhishma summoned Kulguru Kripa and his nephew Vidura to accompany them to Gandhari's chambers.

When Krishna calmly stated to the doorkeeper that Devi Gandhari would allow him entry and insisted that all should be permitted inside, the doorkeeper's weary eyes betrayed his disbelief. Yet, obediently, he relayed the request.

Everyone, including Bhishma, fully expected to be turned away.

To the shock of all, the doorkeeper returned with Gandhari's message: they were all allowed to enter.

Gandhari approached them with a solemn grace, folding her hands in respect. To everyone's astonishment, she began to kneel—not before Bhishma, Kripa, or Vidura, but before the young boy, Krishna. However, before she could complete the gesture, Krishna gently stopped her.

"Elders should never fall at the feet of younger people, Devi Gandhari," the boy's voice rang out, melodious yet firm.

"Before the Vishwadhipathi... everyone is a child, Narayana." Gandhari's words sent chills through the hearts of those present.

"Vishwadhipathi?" Kunti breathed out in awe, her eyes wide with a sudden realization.

"Vasudeva Krishna is the present avatar of Narayana in this Yuga, Rajamata Kunti," Gandhari explained in a cold, neutral tone. Krishna merely smiled at her words, his expression serene.

"You are the current incarnation of Narayana?" Vidura asked, joy and reverence filling his heart as he folded his hands before the boy. "Our kingdom is blessed by your arrival."

The revelation struck Bhishma like a thunderbolt. 'So that's how he knew all the secrets not told to anyone. Narayana was born in the Yadava kingdom this time.' The pieces fell into place in his mind. Kamsa is a tyrant so powerful that even the Devas hesitated to confront him. Especially with Jarasandha backing the man with his full might. And an adharmi that powerful could only be vanquished by an avatar of Narayana himself.

The son of Ganga, overwhelmed by this realization, began to fold his hands in respect, and Kunti and Kripa followed suit. Yet, one question lingered: how did Gandhari, of all people, recognize Krishna as the incarnation of Narayana?

Yuyutsu's mother, who also served as Gandhari's maid, guided them towards a table where sweets made from milk had been lovingly prepared. Gandhari's face, which had grown melancholic in their presence, now radiated warmth and happiness in the company of Krishna.

"You haven't greeted the others, Devi Gandhari," Krishna spoke in a slightly chiding tone, his eyes gentle but firm.

Gandhari's lips thinned at the subtle reprimand, but she complied, offering respectful greetings to the others. Despite the outward civility, the tension in the room was palpable, suffocating in its intensity. Each person felt the weight of unspoken truths and unresolved conflicts, yet in the presence of the divine child, they found themselves momentarily united in reverence and awe.

Just a few months before... Gandhari had loved them all deeply. Their advice had been indispensable to the young queen, who saw them as pillars of wisdom and strength. She had loved everyone equally, her heart open and generous.

Towards him, she had been like a daughter, trusting him as one would a father, seeking his counsel in times of uncertainty. But now, that heart full of love had turned into one filled with hatred, poisoned by the words of Vasusena. For that, Bhishma swore to himself that Adhirathi would pay dearly for his act.

Trivikrama himself had granted them a chance to make amends with Gandhari. A second chance for the union of the family was given by Lakshmipathi. Yet, as they stood in her presence, the weight of their actions hung heavily in the air and their usually eloquent tongue refused to move easily. The silence between them was palpable, thick with unspoken regret and sorrow.

Vidura, usually composed and articulate, struggled to find his voice, the enormity of his actions pressing down on him like a physical burden. He, too, had felt the sting of Gandhari's changed heart, a heart that once beat with kindness and love but now throbbed with anger and betrayal.

The room, once a place of warmth and familial connection, now felt cold and distant. The bonds that had once held them together were frayed, nearly broken, by the lies, schemes, and betrayals that had been sown by that rakshasa that should have been drowned at birth.

Each of them was acutely aware of the rift that had formed, and though Krishna's presence brought a glimmer of hope, the path to healing was uncertain and fraught with the heavy weight of their past actions.

Bhishma, Vidura, Kunti, and Kripa stood there, hearts heavy, knowing that the opportunity before them was one granted by the divine itself. They will not let this opportunity slip their hands. And mending of the bonds will begin by asking forgiveness from the victim.

And though they may not know the precise words that had been whispered in her ears, they had surmised enough from her subsequent actions to know what they must pay apologies for.

"Devi Gandhari," he began, his voice trembling with a depth of emotion rarely seen from him. "I stand before you, not as the great protector of our clan, but as a man crushed beneath the weight of his own failures. For too long, I harboured a disdain so deep for your sons that it blinded me to the truth—they were not the destroyers of our lineage, but children, lost and in need."

His voice broke as he continued, tears glistening in his eyes. "My indifference, my silence... they allowed injustices to thrive like a poison in the roots of this family. I failed them, Devi. I failed them as I failed you. I ask not for forgiveness, for I know I am unworthy of it. But I must confess, for the burden has become too heavy to bear alone."

Gandhari's face remained a stoic mask, carved from stone, showing no trace of the storm raging within. Yet, in that unyielding silence, Bhishma saw the reflection of his guilt—the pain he had caused had hollowed her out, leaving her a shell of the vibrant woman she once was.

Vidura, who had always believed to be the embodiment of fairness was devastated by his actions and his face showed it. He stepped forward, his voice trembling with sorrow. "Devi," he began, his tone thick with regret, "I have long prided myself on my adherence to dharma, to fairness. Yet, I see now that I was blinded by my own biases, my own prejudices against your sons. I failed to see them for who they truly were—innocent children, yearning for guidance and love."

He paused, struggling to contain the tears welling up in his eyes. "The accusations against me, painful as they were, have forced me to confront a truth I was too proud to see. My counsel was tainted, and my judgment was clouded. I was not the impartial guide I thought myself to be."

The tension in the room grew thick, an oppressive force that seemed to choke the very air from their lungs. Each word, each admission, hung heavy in the silence, pressing down on them with the weight of their collective guilt.

Bhishma spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the full force of his regret. "I believed myself a guardian of justice, yet I failed in the most sacred of duties—to protect, to guide. My inaction, my blindness, contributed to the suffering of your family, Devi. And for that, I am deeply remorseful."

His voice trembled as he took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his composure. "I do not seek absolution for myself. I seek only to acknowledge the pain I have caused, and to express my deepest regret for the role I played in the suffering of your family."

Vidura, his head bowed low, struggled to find his voice through the haze of guilt that clouded his mind. "Sister," he began, his tone choked with emotion, "words alone cannot mend what has been broken. But I offer them nonetheless, from the deepest recesses of my heart. I see now the flaws in my character, the biases that clouded my judgment. I stand before you, humbled, seeking forgiveness not for myself, but for the pain I have caused you and your sons."

The silence that followed was deafening, each man standing in the shadow of their confessions, the weight of their guilt pressing down on them like a heavy shroud. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a tomb, echoing with the unspoken pain and regret that lingered in the air.

Gandhari's blindfold may have concealed her eyes, but the deep lines of sorrow etched across her face were impossible to miss. The air in the room was heavy with her pain—the pain of a mother who had seen her children suffer, the torment of a queen who had watched her family shatter into pieces.

Bhishma's voice trembled as it pierced the stillness once more, softer this time, burdened with a feeling of sorrow that had taken root deep within his heart. "Every memory of your sons, Devi Gandhari, reignites the fire of my inaction within me. I should have been their mentor, their shield. Instead, I stood by, a silent witness to their anguish. In failing them, I failed you."

Tears welled up in Vidura's eyes as he found his voice again, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like an unyielding stone. "Devi, your sons were deserving of so much more. They needed guidance, fairness, and compassion. But what they received was judgment, neglect, and bias. My soul aches with the realization of how grievously I wronged them."

Gandhari remained unmoved, her silence a loud testament to her inner turmoil. She stood there, absorbing the confessions of these men—men who had once wielded such power and influence but had fallen woefully short when it mattered most. Yet, she offered no reply, no acknowledgement of their heartfelt admissions. Kunti, Kripa, and Vidura exchanged helpless glances, their desperate pleas failing to penetrate the armor of Gandhari's sorrow. Bhishma, feeling the sting of rejection, turned his gaze towards Krishna, silently pleading for guidance.

Krishna's voice, usually so gentle, carried an edge of unusual severity as he finally spoke. "Devi Gandhari," he began, "your heart has always yearned for your children to walk the path of dharma. Yet now, you stand at a crossroads, refusing to walk that path yourself."

The words hung in the air like a challenge, cutting through the tension. Gandhari's voice, when it came, was soft, almost a whisper. "You know why I struggle to forgive them, Sri Krishna. You know the pain that fuels my hesitation."

Krishna's gaze did not waver. "You allowed the words of an outsider to drive a wedge between you and your family, Devi Gandhari. Instead of healing the wounds, you've let them fester."

Gandhari's tone was laden with sadness as she responded. "Tell me, Keshava... tell me if my son and Vasusena were wrong."

Krishna's eyes softened, yet his voice remained firm. "And you place your trust in the words of Adhirathi?"

"Am I wrong to trust him?" Gandhari's question hung in the air, laden with the weight of her challenge.

The hall fell into a heavy silence, no one daring to speak. Krishna looked at the Queen of Hastinapur with a gaze full of pity, knowing that the answers she sought were not simple.

"Tell me, Devi Gandhari," Krishna began softly, his tone laden with an enigmatic gravity, "what do you know about Vasusena?"

Bhishma observed his own confusion on the face of Gandhari. What on earth is Vishnu saying?

"Let me clarify," Krishna continued, his voice unwavering, "Beyond the words he has spoken about himself, what deeper understanding do you have of Vasusena?"

Gandhari fell silent, the question weighing heavily on her. She struggled to find a meaningful response, the vast expanse of her knowledge seeming inadequate in the face of Krishna's inquiry.

With a subtle wave of his hand, Krishna summoned a screen of mist that shimmered before them, ethereal and mysterious.

"Please give me your hand, Devi Gandhari," Krishna requested. Gandhari, her heart pounding with curiosity and anticipation, extended her hand. Krishna took it with a serene smile. "Let me reveal to you the moments that have defined Vasusena's life. These are the memories that forged him into the man he is."

As Krishna spoke, the mist began to swirl and coalesce, creating a vivid tapestry of scenes from Vasusena's life. The images that emerged were raw and powerful, showcasing the experiences and trials that had shaped him. The screen of mist illuminated the path that Vasusena had walked, each scene a testament to the trials and tribulations he had faced.

"This," Krishna said softly, "is the essence of Vasusena—the boy beyond the surface, the journey that forged the iron into a sword in this life."

The air hung heavy with dread, thick enough to choke on, as the crowd murmured in hushed tones, their whispers swallowed by the sinister hiss of the cauldron where molten lead simmered, hungry and ominous. Vasusena stood frozen, his skin drained of colour, as if the very life within him quivered beneath the weight of impending horror.

A shadow loomed as the executioner stepped forward, his presence a grim herald of doom. Nearby, Adhiratha and Radha sobbed with desperation that threatened to tear the heavens apart.

Adhiratha, always so composed, now trembled like a broken reed. His voice cracked as he cried out, "Mahamahim, I beg of you! He is but a boy—a seeker of knowledge, nothing more! Please, show mercy!" His words were drenched in despair, but they shattered upon the cold, indifferent walls of fate. Beside him, Vasusena stood lifeless, his spirit crumbling as his father's pleas went unanswered.

The guards, statues of ruthless obedience, held Adhiratha and Radha back with grips like steel, silencing their struggles. The executioner, faceless beneath the veil of death's duty, advanced with the ladle of molten lead—a weapon of cruelty. Vasusena's vision blurred with unshed tears, his heart thundering in his chest as the scalding metal was brought closer to Swarnajeet's trembling lips.

The moment the molten lead touched Swarnajeet's mouth, a scream ripped through the air—a shriek so raw, so agonizing, it seemed to tear the very fabric of the earth. The crowd recoiled as the boy's body convulsed, wracked with torment beyond comprehension. His scream resonated in the hearts of the spectators, carving a wound into their souls. But on the throne, Bhishma sat unmoved, his gaze a cold, distant abyss, as if the suffering before him were nothing more than a fleeting shadow in the grand scheme of his relentless will.

Swarnajeet's convulsions slowed, and the sound of agony faded to a chilling silence as his body finally slumped, lifeless. It was then that Vasusena's knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.

The scream that had been trapped within Vasusena broke free—a soundless cry that rattled his very core. Fury surged through his veins, raw and primal. His vision blurred red as he looked up at Bhishma, his teeth bared in a feral snarl, eyes blazing with hatred so fierce it could have set the world ablaze. His gaze, burning like the sun, promised retribution that even the gods would tremble before.

Bhishma, who had once issued the punishment to the child with the cold detachment of duty, had long forgotten the gravity of his own decree. Yet, as time passed, a nagging regret gnawed at him, a familiar but uncomfortable burden he buried deep beneath the armor of his unwavering sense of duty—just as he had done countless times before.

But it was a well-known tragedy. Vasusena's brother's death was shown as a warning to suta children that age and while important everyone knew about it. Krishna said that there are things about Vasusena no one knew.

But the death of Adhirathi Swarnajeet had been the talk of Hastinapur. It was shown as a warning to suta children not to cross their boundaries. So why would Krishna choose to show this particular scene?

Krishna's voice was soft, as he addressed Gandhari. "You are the only one outside his parents who knew what Vasusena's eyes are capable of, Devi Gandhari. He chose to tell only you outside his family who his teacher is and what his boons are." The confusion in his gaze mirrored that of everyone else in the room. What could Keshava possibly mean?

Krishna then unveiled the secret, one that sent a ripple of unease through the Sabha. "He claimed that after his training, his eyes could see the past, present, and future of any person he looked upon if he so wished." Bhishma's heart plummeted at those words. The atmosphere in the Sabha grew tense, the very air crackling with fear and uncertainty. "Isn't that right, Devi Gandhari?"

Bhishma's mind raced. What had Vasusena done during his absence from Hastinapur? Such power, in the hands of an adharmi as cunning as Vasusena, was terrifying.

Gandhari's voice, calm but weighted with knowledge, broke through the tension. "Yes," she confirmed.

"He lied, Devi Gandhari," Krishna replied.

A collective sigh of relief swept through the Sabha, the men exhaling as though they had been spared from some great calamity. The thought of facing an enemy with such an ability was unthinkable—even Vishnu himself would need to take up arms against such a foe. But fortunately, it wasn't true... or so they thought.

"Even before he began training in the army of Hastinapur," Krishna continued, "Vasusena already knew what Niyathi holds for him."

And with that, the relief was shattered, replaced by a suffocating dread.

"This is an outrageous claim, my lord," Bhishma blurted out, fear creeping into his voice. "If that's true... he would have prevented the death of his brother."

Krishna's lips thinned with barely concealed irritation, and Bhishma felt a wave of shame wash over him. "The reason why I'm showing you this memory," Krishna explained, his voice cutting through the protests like a blade, "is because this was the first time, by Shiva's grace, that Vasusena saw the entire path Niyathi had written for him and everyone else. The reason he was frozen in place was because, at that moment, he lived every second of his life—from then until his death."

The colour drained from Vidhur's and Kripa's faces, and Bhishma knew that his own must mirror theirs. Kunti appeared lost, not fully grasping the significance, while Gandhari's expression was one of deep, troubled puzzlement.

Gandhari's lips curved into a faint smile, a hum escaping her as she processed Krishna's words. "Oh..." she murmured thoughtfully. "So, with the blessing of his teacher, this gift became so enhanced that he could wield it at will. But even if that's true... he merely concealed the full truth. It changes nothing for me."

Kripa, however, was not as easily swayed. His brow furrowed in surprise as he spoke, "Wait a moment... What teacher could possibly bless Vasusena with the power to see the future at will? Divine knowledge of such magnitude... to impart that to a suta is strictly forbidden by the varna vyavastha. So, who, then, is the teacher of Vasusena?"

Krishna's smile deepened, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Ah... Tell us, Devi Gandhari," he said, his voice light but pointed, "who is Vasusena's teacher in this life? Can you offer him praise without speaking the name of his teacher, Devi Gandhari?"

The air grew still as Krishna's words hung in the room, heavy with implication. All eyes turned toward Gandhari, awaiting her response.

सः प्रजापतिषु प्रथमः सर्वशक्तीनां प्रभुः च।

पृथिव्याः आकाशस्य स्वर्गस्य च देवः सः।

सः सर्वलोकानां नाथः देवः च ईशानः सः वरदः।

सः सर्वस्य आदिः विश्वस्य प्रभुः अस्ति।

(The first among the Prajapatis who is the sovereign of all energies and the force that fuels existence. The one who commands the earth, the sky, and the vastness of heaven, reigning supreme over all realms. He is Ishana, the divine granter of boons, the primal source of all creation, the eternal lord of the universe.)

Kunti's voice, filled with awe, broke the silence. "Ishana... Ishana is the other name for Maheshwara." she whispered. "Maheshwara is the teacher of Vasusena."

A collective gasp filled the room, and the men in the Sabha turned as one toward Krishna, their eyes pleading for him to deny it, to say that this was all some cruel misunderstanding. But their hopes were dashed as Krishna merely smiled at Gandhari, offering no such comfort.

"He told you the truth," Krishna said with a gentle smile. "But do you know why Vasusena sought to learn under Shiva? Do you know what drove him to begin his tapasya in pursuit of Maheshwara's teachings?"

"No, Krishna," Gandhari admitted softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Krishna's gaze softened. "Then see for yourself," he said, waving his hand. The mist in the air shifted once more, swirling and coalescing into another vision, revealing the hidden reason behind Vasusena's intense tapasya, the path that led him to the feet of Maheshwara himself.

I n the dimming light of the sacred grove, young Vasusena stood out, his small figure framed by the encroaching shadows of the trees. The quiet hum of nature was a cruel contrast to the agony about to unfold. He was only eleven—a child with cherubic features, yet his eyes held a wisdom far beyond his years, betraying an old soul burdened with suffering.

With trembling hands, Vasusena pulled a gleaming knife from his waistband. The blade was nearly as long as his forearm, it's cold edge glinting ominously in the fading light. Without hesitation, he raised the blade and made a motion to plunge it into his own flesh.

Suddenly, a brilliant glow enveloped him, and a golden armor, adorned with the radiant motifs of the sun, materialized around his tiny body, shielding him from the blade. The onlookers gasped, stunned by the miraculous appearance of the armor. But their shock quickly turned to horror as Vasusena, undeterred by the protection, began searching for gaps in the divine armor.

With terrifying precision, the boy started to flay his own flesh where the armor could not reach. The sight was too much to bear; bile rose in the throats of those watching as the gruesome scene played out before them. Blood stained the earth as Vasusena cut deeper, his tiny frame convulsing under the self-inflicted pain.

However, amidst the horror, none of the onlookers, save for Krishna, noticed Maharani Kunti's sudden pallor. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes widened in recognition. The golden armor... the divine protection... it could only mean one thing. The realization crashed over her like a tidal wave.

'Vasusena is my child,' she thought in a hysterical whirlwind of emotions. It all made sense now—why Krishna had insisted she join him in Gandhari's room, why he wanted her to see these memories unfold.

As the scene continued to unfold before her, Kunti's heart shattered into a thousand pieces, torn between the maternal instinct to protect her son and the unbearable knowledge of the suffering he had already endured.

As Vasusena began to remove his armor, the scene took on a disturbing quality. The golden pieces, seemingly fused to his skin, did not come off easily. With each piece he pried away, a sickening sound accompanied the act, a mingling of metal and flesh parting ways.

All of them could see the boy's skin tearing, the delicate tissue splitting under the force required to remove the divine protection. Blood welled up from the wounds, starkly crimson against the dusky light, staining the grass at his feet.

The armor, blessed as it was, had become a second skin, intertwined with his very being. As Vasusena struggled, a faint, almost inaudible whimper escaped his lips. It was the only thing that betrayed the pain Vasusena felt.

All of them watched in horrified fascination as Vasusena's hands, shaking but determined, continued their task. The boy's expression was one of grim resolve, his young face set with an intensity far beyond his years.

Each piece of armor, as it was removed, revealed more of the tender, raw flesh beneath. The divine protection had not merely rested upon him; it had grown into him, becoming a part of him. Now, as it was peeled away, it left behind patches of skin torn and bloodied, the wounds deep and seeping. The ground beneath him was flecked with droplets of blood, the only sound in the air the occasional sharp intake of breath as Vasusena suppressed cries of pain.

The final piece, a breastplate that had shielded his heart, was the hardest to remove. Vasusena's small hands struggled with it, and when it finally gave way, a guttural gasp escaped him. The observer saw the raw, exposed skin, the fresh, open wounds that covered his chest. The boy's breathing was labored, his small body trembling from the ordeal. The armor, now discarded, lay at his feet, its golden hue tainted with blood, a stark reminder of the cost of what he wished to gain.

Vasusena stood there, panting, the cool evening air now biting against his exposed, wounded skin. His chest rose and fell with the effort of breathing, each inhaling a struggle against the pain. They could see the streaks of blood running down his torso, mingling with the dirt and sweat, painting a grim picture of suffering and resilience.

Then a chant poured out from his lips.

जय हनुमान ज्ञान-गुन-सागर ।

जय कपीस तिहुँ लोक उजागर ॥ १ ॥...

First, he fell on his knees, his entire body painting his surroundings with his blood. His blood formed a pool at his feet. Slowly Radheya collapsed into the mud yet his fervent chanting didn't stop.

Vasusena is praising Anjaniputra even in his condition. Tears unconsciously appeared in the eyes of everyone who watched the gruesome scene. Even when he started to drown in his own blood... Vasusena didn't stop. What kind of resilience did that boy have? What was he fighting for?

"In less than one month of his tapasya, Bajrangbali appeared in front of him."

"Less than a month, Krishna?" Vidhur asked in shock.

"The armour and the earrings on his body protect him from death or anything that harms him," Krishna spoke in a grave tone. "Made with amrita...it is impenetrable by any Astra in the universe. Vasusena gave it up for his wish and with your own eyes, you could see the cost he is willing to pay. So in less than a month, Vasusena's penance brought Amit Vikram to him."

In less than one month of his fervent chants, Amitvikram manifested before him in all his divine majesty.

Standing before him was Hanuman, whose imposing figure exuded divine strength and robustness. His skin glowed the color of burnished copper, reflecting his fiery dedication and celestial origins. Muscles flowed under his skin like rivers of power, each movement demonstrating his exceptional physical strength and agility.

His face, framed by a thick mane of dark hair, bore deep-set tawny eyes that shone with wisdom and compassion. A vermilion tilak on his forehead marked his spiritual mastery and devotion. Draped in a simple saffron cloth, Bajrangbali managed to radiate humility despite his formidable appearance. His tail swayed over his head in lazy patterns, signalled his readiness and perpetual vigilance. Adorning his ears were earrings crafted from an amalgamation of gold, silver, iron, copper, and tin.

With a gesture of deep respect, Vasusena bowed before him. In a voice filled with kindness, the companion of Sri Rama prompted him to request a boon.

"I seek the knowledge of the Brahmastra—the method to wield it and the technique to recall it. I ask for this knowledge to be used for just one hour. In exchange, I request you to take these armor and earrings and return them to my father," Vasusena stated earnestly.

Gandhari's voice was laced with uncertainty as she asked, "His father?"

Krishna's expression hardened, and his response was gentle yet firm. "Vasusena was not the biological son of Adhiratha, Devi Gandhari. He was adopted. His true father is someone else.

However, Vasusena made it clear that I am not to reveal that secret unless absolutely necessary. His deepest wish is for the world to always know Adhiratha as his father."

Kunti's heart pounded against her chest as the truth settled within her. Vasusena—her firstborn—knew the secret of his birth. A fierce battle raged within her; love for her child intertwined with a rising fear for her honor, causing her breath to quicken as emotions overwhelmed her.

Krishna, sensing the tension in the room, addressed Gandhari in a solemn tone. "Devi Gandhari, before I reveal the next part of Vasusena's journey, understand this: all that you see here is the truth. You may even question Vasusena yourself, and he will not lie to you."

Vasusena drew the string of his bow taut, the Brahmastra humming with divine power as he released it toward the palace with unerring precision. The air crackled with energy, the weapon a brilliant streak of light cutting through the darkening sky.

As Gandharraj Shakuni approached his sister's chamber, the oppressive shadows around him were suddenly dispelled by an overwhelming flash of radiance. He barely had time to turn and glimpse the source before the Brahmastra, unleashed by Vasusena, struck him with cataclysmic force. In an instant, his body disintegrated, vaporized by the power of the celestial weapon, leaving only his head—a gruesome remnant of the man he had once been.

The severed head fell at the feet of Queen Gandhari with a sickening finality.

And then, from the depths of her soul, a scream ripped forth. It was a sound of raw agony, an echo of the pain Vasusena himself had once felt when he witnessed the horrific death of his own brother. 

She still remembered the day. One moment they had been laughing, reminiscing their childhood days of mischief, and the next, there had been a blinding flash, scalding in its intensity–so much so that Gandhari had instinctively covered her eyes, even blindfolded as they were. And then, a terrible, jarring silence. Gandhari had shivered at the sudden chill after the momentary scorching warmth and hesitantly called out to her brother. She had received no answer.

It was Sugandha who had explained to her—in gentle murmurs—what had happened. She had wept inconsolably and demanded to be taken to him. She had been refused (there had been too much blood and the fatal wound hadn't been a clean one. Shakuni's body had to undergo extensive cleansing to be readied for the funeral).

And now.... seeing him die... it reopened the unhealed scars of his death.

However, only pity was visible in the eyes of the devout follower of Rama. "May I inquire why you gaze upon me with such pity, Pavanaputra?" Vasusena asked softly.

"You are a mere mortal attempting to defy destiny, Vasusena," Anjaniputra responded gently. "Your intentions are for your brother's sake. Nonetheless, your efforts, Vasusena, are ultimately in vain. Niyathi is immutable."

Vasusena, suppressing his burgeoning anger, stared intently at the most formidable of Vanaras. "With no Gandharaj to corrupt his thoughts, I have already altered Niyathi of my brother, Uddhikraman."

"Reflect on these ancient words, Vasusena: 'Brahma rasina aa raatanu aa Brahmane cherupaledu,' and 'Shivuni agnya lenidhe cheemaina kuttadu,'" the deity stated, his eyes filled with pity as he vanished from sight.

(The first adage translates to "Once Brahma writes someone's fate, even he cannot alter it." The second means "Without Shiva's command, not even an ant can bite.")

Gandhari's heart-wrenching wail echoed through the hall, piercing the hearts of all who heard it. "Vasusena was the one who killed my brother, Krishna? Why? Why did he do that?"

Krishna's expression darkened, his voice heavy with sorrow as he replied, "Because of your brother's actions, Vasusena will lose the person he loves most in this world.

He will lose his entire family due to the schemes and machinations of Gandharraj Shakuni. Vasusena loved one person above all else. In his own words, there are very few sins he wouldn't commit for the happiness of that brother."

Gandhari collapsed to the floor, her body trembling with grief, and Bhishma could not fault her.

The revelation weighed heavily on his own heart. What kind of will did that suta possess? He flayed himself, endured unimaginable torture, and surrendered his divine protection—all in a desperate bid to alter the fate of his beloved brother. The sheer determination of that boy sent a shiver through Bhishma's very soul.

Gandhari's voice quivered as she cried out, "Is this the kind of person I entrusted with my Suyodhana's future?" Kunti knelt beside her, gently rubbing her shoulders in an attempt to console her.

And now, he had committed the ultimate sin: the unlawful killing of Shakuni. He thought savagely.

For the first time since entering the hall, Bhishma allowed a small smile to touch his lips. Vasusena, who had always managed to evade punishment with his deep knowledge of law, was finally caught. The sin of killing Gandharraj Shakuni was undeniable, and there would be no loophole for him to escape this time.

With a feeling of a grim satisfaction, Bhishma addressed Gandhari. "I'll order the soldiers to detain him, Putri Gandhari," he stated solemnly, though he struggled to conceal the glee in his heart.

But before he could act, Krishna's voice cut through the air, sharp as a blade. "On what accusations, Devaratha Bhishma?"

Bhishma blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the question. "For the murder of Gandharraj Shakuni... I'm ordering the arrest of Vasusena, Krishna."

Krishna exhaled, his irritation evident. "Have you forgotten the Nyaya Shastra, Devaratha? No child should be held accountable for actions committed before the age of three and ten years. Vasusena was only one and ten years old when he killed Gandharraj Shakuni. By law, he is innocent."

Gandhari's voice shook with wrath. "So the murderer of my brother will go scot-free, Krishna?"

Krishna's gaze softened, but his tone remained firm. "Unfortunately, yes, Devi Gandhari. By the law, he cannot be held accountable for the actions of his childhood."

Gandhari's voice was icy, her eyes filled with a mix of hurt and anger. "He promised me that he would always keep Suyodhana on the path of dharma. Was that promise true, or was it a lie?"

Krishna's gaze softened as he prepared to reveal the trap he set for Vasusena. "Listen to Vasusena's own words, spoken after all that has transpired. I will show you the Vasusena who confronted his choices and his failures. This is our conversation after everything had happened."

"And yet you stood beside Suyodhana all your life." He smiled with mockery on his face.

"

I stood by him and yet I have never performed my duties as a true friend."

"Suyodhana gave me his friendship, and I betrayed him," Vasusena whispered, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. "I betrayed him in so many ways that I feel ashamed of myself."

The tears fell faster as he continued, his voice thick with sorrow. "I supported Suyodhana in his conspiracies against the Pandavas. I thought I was doing it out of loyalty, not out of selfishness, save for my enmity with Arjuna. I believed my actions were selfless, aligned with my friend's wishes, to prove my loyalty."

"But a true friend would have guided him away from such evil deeds. A true friend would have stopped him from walking down a dark path."

He paused, his voice barely above a whisper. "Suyodhana made me the King of Anga so that I could challenge Arjuna. Some might see this as a bribe, and perhaps it was. He wanted an archer who could defeat Arjuna, yes. But he had already secured my loyalty."

Vasusena's tears continued to flow as he spoke, his heart laid bare. "He never needed to call this sutaputra his friend. He never needed to love me so much. He never needed to place me in his heart above all his brothers and relatives."

I supported Suyodhana in all his schemes, and at times, I even devised them.

"I knew a fair fight with the Pandavas was futile, so I suggested we crush them before the Vrishnis and Panchalas could come to their aid. It was a brilliant strategy, but was it the strategy of a true friend? No. A true friend would have urged him to seek honor, not deceit."

I even encouraged Suyodhana to mock the Pandavas in their exile, driven by my own desire to see them suffer. In doing so, I dragged him into the Ghosha Yatra, where the Yakshas attacked us. When danger loomed, I fled, leaving Suyodhana at their mercy. What true friend abandons his friend in peril?"

Vasusena's tears fell freely now, each drop a testament to his regret. "Through it all, Suyodhana remained steadfast. He never questioned my failures, never complained. He ignored my mistakes, hoping against hope that I could change his destiny. He proved to be a better friend than I ever was to him."

His voice grew softer, filled with the weight of his self-condemnation. "In the end, it is clear to me. I, Vasusena, failed as a true friend. I let my ego, my hatred, and my ambition blind me to what Suyodhana truly needed—a friend who would guide him towards righteousness, not an enabler who would lead him further into darkness."

Gandhari's heart shattered for the second time since the return of the Pandavas. Her voice trembled, barely a whisper through her tears. "Why did he do that?" she pleaded, her anguish palpable. "Mahaamahim Bhishma was the one who caused injustice to his family. What did Suyodhana or any of us do to him?" Her cheeks were streaked with tears, her sobs growing louder as she turned into a portrait of inconsolable grief.

Krishna, his face a mask of compassion, gently touched her head with his peacock feather. Gandhari's eyes fluttered closed as sleep overtook her, the weight of the revelations too heavy to bear. Kunti, with Sugandha's help, carefully laid Gandhari onto the bed, her own heart breaking at the sight.

As the room fell into a sombre quiet, Kunti and Sugandha remained by Gandhari's side. The others, their faces etched with disbelief and turmoil, gathered in Bhishma's chamber, each step weighed down by the enormity of the day's revelations.

Bhishma, normally a figure of calm and control, was a storm of fury. His voice thundered through the room. "Poisonous little snake," he seethed, his eyes blazing with anger. "First he insults my teacher, and now he nearly destroys my family. Damned the consequences... I should kill him with my own hands."

The air grew tense as Krishna's eyes narrowed, a cold fire simmering within. Krishna's voice, which was melodious with calm wisdom, now carried the weight of an impending storm as he spoke. "If you do that, Mahaamahim... by tomorrow night, Hastinapur will be wiped off the face of Aryavarta." His words, hard as iron, cut through the tense air like a blade.

The cold certainty in Krishna's declaration sent a shiver down Devaratha's spine. All the anger, all the anguish that had once fueled him, now gave way to a chilling fear. His heart pounded in his chest as he stood frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from the divine avatar before him.

"Vasusena is the disciple of Parameshwara," Krishna continued, his tone now steely, unyielding. "Do you have any idea what that means, Devaratha?" And he could only stare, dumbfounded at the sudden anger of Krishna.

"It means," Krishna pressed on, "that Vasusena was one of the very few who witnessed all forms of Parameshwara. In the course of his training, he fought every form of Shiva, mastering the divine arts as no other could."

Krishna's eyes seemed to pierce through time itself as he recounted the training undergone by the suta. "Vasusena learned all five forms of archery by the blessing of Bholenath himself.

Pasupata had a secret, one known only to Brahma, Shiva, and me. An aspect of his being that he longed for someone to discover."

A faint smile played on Krishna's lips, though it held no warmth. "Vasusena was the one who found it. The joy that filled Bholenath when he realized Vasusena had uncovered that secret... You cannot imagine it.

Radheya was so favoured that Shiva imbued him with one of his own domains—the domain of time itself. No one, in the entire history of the world, has ever received such a boon."

Krishna's voice softened for a moment, touched with something like reverence. "Both Parvati and Shiva blessed him, teaching him everything they could. Vasusena, with his pure devotion, pleased Parameshwara so deeply that he was granted divine weapons, weapons that would respond only to his touch."

The weight of Krishna's words hung in the air as he finally turned his gaze back to Devaratha. "And you, Mahaamahim Bhishma, you said you would kill him?"

With a wave of his hand, Krishna conjured a screen of mist, revealing the final battle between Vasusena and Arjuna. The image flickered before them, displaying a duel that defied all description. The clash of their weapons echoed through the ages, a battle witnessed by Devas, Gandharvas, Nymphs, Sages, and Celestials alike.

"It was called the greatest battle of the Dwapara Yuga," Krishna narrated, his voice resonating with the memory of that epic confrontation. "Even the gates of hell opened so that demons, spirits, and the tormented souls of the damned could witness the spectacle."

The ground beneath them seemed to tremble as Krishna spoke, the very earth shuddering at the memory of that titanic clash. They saw Vasusena's death at the hands of Arjuna, struck down when he was bereft of weapons.

Vidhur's voice trembled with awe as he asked, "He has the potential to be that powerful?" The bitterness they harbored toward the suta, the man who had caused them so much pain, could not erase the respect his valor demanded. Watching Arjuna rise to greatness had filled their hearts with hope, but the fierceness with which the suta fought left them stunned, unable to deny the warrior's indomitable spirit.

Krishna's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Oh no, Mamashree Vidur... The duel you witnessed does not truly represent Vasusena's potential. The child who walks among you is already as powerful as the warrior you just watched."

A murmur of astonishment rippled through the assembly. Kripacharya, his brow furrowed in confusion, turned to Krishna. "If he is that powerful, why on earth is he so... relatively mild? He faces insults daily from soldiers, guards, and many others. So why is he so calm, even in the face of such disrespect?"

Krishna's eyes gleamed with a savageness that was inhuman. "If a dog barks at an elephant and still lives... is it because of the valor of the dog or the virtue of the elephant?"

Kripacharya caught the subtle admiration in Krishna's tone, a reverence that spoke volumes about Vasusena's true nature. He frowned, puzzled. If Krishna held the suta in such high regard, why had he painted him as an antagonist in their eyes? Bhishma and the others, eager to regain favor with Queen Gandhari, might have overlooked this, but Kripa saw it clearly. Krishna did not hate Vasusena—at least not completely.

As if sensing Kripa's thoughts, Krishna turned to him, his enigmatic smile deepening. A voice, soft yet powerful, echoed in Kripa's mind.

"Vasusena is one of the finest individuals I've ever known, Kripacharya. Yet his seething anger towards me and Bhishma transforms him into a cold-blooded being. He could have wielded the power granted by Parameshwara to mend this fractured family. But instead, he chose to use it to shatter it further."

"There are four of us, Krishna..." Bhishma's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. "He can't fight four of us and win."

Krishna's response was a soft, almost casual hum. "Might be true, Mahaamahim Devaratha. It would indeed be a daunting task, and perhaps, there is a chance that he might die at your hands. I wouldn't bet against him, though."

Bhishma's eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into his thoughts. Krishna continued, his tone now carrying a warning. "However, there's another issue.

Vasusena's father. He is not a person to be trifled with. If you ever dared to harm even a hair on Vasusena's head... his father would wipe out the entirety of Hastinapur from the map of Aryavarta. And no one—no one—could hope to stop him. Even if I could... I wouldn't."

Vidur's voice was soft, almost a whisper in fear, as the weight of Krishna's words settled over him. "You said Adhiratha was not the biological father of Vasusena. And now you say that his real father could wipe Hastinapur off the face of Aryavarta. So who exactly is the father of Vasusena, Krishna?"

A heavy silence fell over the room. Krishna turned slowly, his gaze distant as he walked towards the balcony. The others watched him with bated breath, the tension thickening with every step he took.

"Will you not announce yourself... oh father of Vasusena?" Krishna's voice carried an eerie calm as he spoke.

Confusion rippled through the assembly. They glanced at each other, bewildered. There was no one else in the room, save for themselves. But Krishna's eyes were fixed on the horizon, where the chariot of Surya Deva hovered in anticipation. The realization struck them like a thunderbolt.

And then, without warning, a blinding flash erupted across the heavens, an explosion of light so intense it seemed to seize time itself. The searing brilliance engulfed the room, plunging it into an almost tangible silence. Every member of the court, every soul in Hastinapur, was momentarily paralyzed by the dazzling glare, their eyes shutting instinctively against the overwhelming brightness.

When their eyes dared to reopen, a colossal figure loomed beside Krishna, towering over them at a staggering twelve feet tall. The very fabric of reality seemed to tremble under his presence. An oppressive hush fell over the world, as though the universe itself had stilled in reverence.

The air grew thick and heavy, laden with the weight of an unseen force. Their breaths came in ragged, desperate gasps, their bodies overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the newcomer's power. The room, once vibrant with life, now felt suffused with an almost unbearable gravity, as though the very atmosphere had turned to lead.

The figure, now fully revealed, radiated an aura that was both divine and terrifying. His presence was a proclamation of power, a reminder of the forces that moved the very heavens. And in that moment, the members of Hastinapur court understood—they were in the presence of a god.

A collective shiver coursed through the assembly. The question, unspoken but palpable, hung in the charged silence, reverberating through their minds like a thunderclap: If a god appeared when Vishnu called for the father of Radheya... could Vasusena truly be the progeny of one of the Devatas?

"I greet thee, O eldest son of Aditi..." Krishna's voice was a melody of reverence, resonating through the room. The title sent a wave of realization rippling through the assembled members. The eldest son of Aditi is...

"I greet thee, O ruler of Cosmos," came the warm reply, rich with authority. The ruler of the Navagraha—the one who governs the nine celestial bodies—had spoken.

Vasusena's father was Surya Narayana?

As if reading their thoughts, Krishna's lips curled into an amused smile. "Radha, his mother, used to say that she was blessed by Suryadev and that Vasusena was her son," Krishna said, his tone light yet laced with profound truth. "She certainly wasn't lying. Vasusena's father is indeed the eldest son of Aditi."

Lord Surya's piercing gaze broke its intense connection with Krishna. His eyes, ablaze with the light of a thousand suns, swept over the elders of Hastinapur like a scorching storm. The suppressed rage and palpable disdain in his stare were almost unbearable, searing through each of them with an intensity that left them breathless.

Bhishma felt it as a scorching brand, the very heat of the sun pressing against his face. But far more devastating was the wave of contempt that crashed over him, curling icy tendrils of terror around his heart. The weight of divine judgment was heavy, undeniable, and inescapable.

A chorus of gasps echoed around him as bodies stiffened in dread. Bhishma realized, with a jolt of chilling horror, that every soul present had felt the same searing wrath—an unmistakable judgment from the heavens themselves.

The room seemed to darken, the air thick with the unspoken acknowledgment of their folly. They had underestimated Vasusena, dismissed him as a mere mortal, when in truth, he was born out of the essence of Surya Deva itself. The gravity of their error hung over them like a storm cloud, the full force of divine wrath looming ever closer.

Bhishma's heart pounded in his chest as he grappled with the enormity of the situation. He had faced countless battles, defied death itself, but now, standing before the father of Vasusena, he felt a fear deeper than any he had ever known. It was the fear of divine retribution, the knowledge that he had crossed a line that should never have been approached.

He had threatened to kill the son of Bhaskara, the very god who illuminates and nurtures the world without bias. The God who provided light to both sinner and saint, rich and poor alike. He threatened him for his adharmic son.

For the first time, Surya Deva had shown partiality. He was a god who embodied fairness, but Vasusena was his son—a son born from his own divine essence.

The realization struck Bhishma like a hammer to the chest. Vasusena might be an adharmi, a man who had strayed from the path of righteousness, but the paternal bond between father and son transcended mortal understanding.

It was a bond that even the impartial Surya Deva could not deny. And a father just like Dhristarastra will always be partial towards his son.

"Partial towards my son, am I?" Surya Deva's voice, though oddly melodious, grated harshly against their ears, like a song that tore through their very souls. Every one of them gulped, the weight of his wrath pressing down on them like a suffocating blanket.

"They will not harm Vasusena... Vivasvan," Krishna's voice was soothing, a balm to the tension in the room. Yet, Surya Deva stood like a stone, his blazing eyes locked on the assembled members, burning with an intensity that threatened to consume them. "You have my word that Vasusena will not be harmed by any of us in this room unless there is a very good reason to do so."

Surya Deva's gaze fixed on Bhishma, and the ancient warrior winced at the god's rebuke. "You called me partial towards my son, Gangaputra. If that were true... I would have killed all of you and wiped out Hastinapur long ago."

His voice, calm yet laced with an undercurrent of barely restrained fury, shook them to their core. "I watched as he wrestled with his very essence, a relentless battle within and against the world that seemed to scorn him at every turn.

He searched desperately for identity, even as he marched down paths that, deep within his soul, he knew were his to tread. His destinations, though foretold, remained elusive to all but a few—hidden even from those who boasted of seeing with clarity.

And then Parameshwara gave him a chance to fight against the world. And he learnt what he was exactly."

Surya Deva's words echoed through the room, each one landing like a hammer blow. Bhishma felt them deep within his heart, a searing reminder of the divine anger they had provoked. "Perhaps the balance of the universe demanded our silence, even as I existed within him, a part of his very being. Perhaps my own penance required that I endure the pain of watching him struggle, learning the hardest lessons on his own.

When he was sneered at by the bastards who were unfit to stand in his presence. I gave him no comfort.

When he was deliberately sabotaged at every turn. When he bore the hate of people around him... I stood silent as it is my duty.

When his heart broke at the death of his loved one... I resolved to remain still, to neither speak nor act, even as I longed to guide him. I did nothing to influence his path, though my heart ached with the burden of my restraint."

The god's voice cut through the silence like a blade, and they felt rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the sheer force of his presence. "However... If there is one thing I have resolved now, O Protector of Cosmos," Surya Deva turned back towards Krishna, his voice hardening with resolve, "it is that anyone who dares to harm him without a good reason... will be naught but ashes the very next moment."

Bhishma was on the verge of breaking down. The god's words had shaken him to his very core. Surya Deva's final warning was a dagger to his heart: "And you, one of the people who pushed him down this path, have no right to touch my son."

"You started the war with my son by throwing him into the flames of despair, oh beloved of Ganga. And the world fought against him and struck him at every turn. In the furnace of the world amid all the beating he had taken... a sword was forged. My son is a sword forged by you, Bhishma. Do you not know the function of a sword Devavrata?

And now you are complaining about the sword which you had a hand in creating?" With those words and a look of disgust, Surya Deva vanished in a flash of light, leaving the room filled with an amused Krishna and the terrified elders of Hastinapur.

Bhishma's thoughts swirled in turmoil. He could agree that he was one of those who had driven Vasusena down a dark path, but in his mind, Vasusena was still an adharmi, a man who had chosen to walk that path of his own volition.

Surya Deva out of his love might have threatened them. But the avatar of Narayana himself supported them. Vasusena tore apart his family in malice, and even Krishna had opposed him because of his unrighteousness.

Kripacharya's voice broke the heavy silence, trembling yet insistent. "Then how come he is a suta?" His tone was soft but edged with fear.

"It's due to niyati that he was raised as a suta, Kripacharya," Krishna replied, his voice carrying a finality that left no room for further questioning. "Anyway... my work here is complete."

With that, Krishna rose, and with a graceful bow, touched the feet of the elders, seeking their blessings. Then, with a serene smile, he turned and left the room, leaving the shaken lords of Hastinapur to grapple with the terrifying truths they had just witnessed.

"Is your work done, Narayana?" Neelakanta's voice, as deep and resonant as the endless void, broke through the silence, drawing Krishna's attention.

"Yes, it is," Krishna replied, a serene smile playing on his lips. "Vasusena has been too passive lately. I've made sure he'll have enough blessings and power to face what lies ahead. With Suryadeva's warning, the elders of Hastinapur will tread carefully around him."

Parameshwara's voice was gentle, yet it carried the weight of the universe. "This is one of the tests I must give Vasusena. I have already come close to fulfilling his wish of altering the niyati of Suyodhana. If he can understand how to take the next step and complete this trial, Vasusena will be the first to pass through the world of Pashupatastra."

Krishna's eyes softened with concern. "Vasusena is filled with wrath, Maheshwara. If we are to prevent this world from descending into chaos, he must gain more control over his ripus."

Neelakanta smiled with a calm that could soothe the most turbulent storm. "The boon I gave him has made him mistrustful, wary of everyone. He has seen thousands of futures with it, each vision leaving its mark on his soul. Those experiences have twisted him, turning him into something far removed from the man he once was."

Krishna listened intently as Shiva continued. "Vasusena holds more stories in his heart than any living being. In terms of knowledge, he stands just below the Devatas. A person who knows a story has lived a life, but Vasusena has lived thousands upon thousands of lives. It has made him the most knowledgeable person on earth, yet it has also left him weary and distrustful of everything."

Shiva's gaze seemed to pierce through time itself as he spoke. "But the path I have set before him requires more than just knowledge; it demands wisdom. Thank you, Krishna, for guiding him thus far."

Krishna inclined his head, acknowledging Shiva's gratitude. "As I said, he needs to let go of the anger in his heart. His wrath binds him, just as his ego did in his previous life. I can only show him the path, Maheshwara. The journey... he must walk it on his own."

Chapter Text

.

For often through the silent nights

A funeral, with plumes and lights,

“I am half-sick of shadows,” said

 The Lady of Shalott.

• Lord Alfred Tennyson, The Lady of Shalott

*********

“Vasusena is a Vaikartana…” Kripa whispered, his voice tinged with awe and disbelief.

His mind flashed back to the first time he had laid eyes on the boy. He had looked frail, malnourished and smaller than his peers—a child whose physical form concealed the power that he would, even in those days, wield with ease. 

But what had struck Kripa most was the haunting emptiness in those eyes, a void so profound it seemed the boy didn't belong to this world. They were the eyes of someone who did not belong. He looked like a soulless puppet mimicking life, a child whose presence felt more like an intrusion into the world than a part of it.

Yet, in battle or the throes of learning, those same eyes burned with a fierce intensity that made everyone, even Kripa himself, uneasy. It was as if, in those moments, the lifeless shell was possessed by something far greater, something dangerous. There was a reason why Vasusena was called Rakshasa by all the other trainees.

 It was a gaze that unsettled even the most hardened of warriors, a fierce and disconcerting presence that made Kripa’s blood freeze in his veins. 

It was as if Vasusena, in those moments, transcended human limitations, becoming something altogether different. 

Kripa had once chanced upon servants discussing in hushed tones that Vasusena was not a child at all, but an unfinished creation of Lord Vishwakarma—a lifeless golem masquerading as a human. He had been inclined to agree.

But now, the revelation that this cold-blooded child was born out of the essence of Surya Narayana shattered his understanding of the world. The shock rippled through him, challenging everything he thought he knew.

When he had been Vasusena’s teacher… Kripa  had felt that the power should be more suited to a Kshatriya rather than a suta. And it turns out, he was only slightly wrong. Vasusena was not just any ordinary Kshatriya. He was a Devaputra by birth. 

The clash between him and Arjuna… Kripa knew it would haunt him for the rest of his days. The battle—laid bare before him by Vishwadhipathi—was seared into his memory with an intensity that defied words. 

“How could that adharmi, that scoundrel, be a Devaputra like my own grandsons?” His step-brother’s voice cracked with anguish, his disbelief palpable as he grappled with the jarring revelation of the boy’s divine lineage. “Even after all the adharma he has wrought, I am bound by vow on our behalf by Krishna and the wrath of Surya Deva. I cannot kill him for the division he has caused in our family!”

“ Pitrvya … please, calm yourself,” Vidura pleaded, his eyes filled with concern.

“ Calm? ” King Shantanu's firstborn’s voice rose to a fevered pitch, trembling with hysteria. “How can I possibly remain calm, Vidura? Did you not witness the sheer power Vasusena wielded?” A shudder swept through the Pillar of Hastinapur and every soul present, the weight of dread palpable in the room. “Why did Bholenath bestow such a formidable boon upon that wretched soul? If not for Vishwadhipathi… our family would be shattered beyond repair.”

“Everything is better now, Pitrvya ,” Vidura attempted to soothe him, his voice steady though laden with worry. “Seeing our anguish Vishwadhipathi himself came to solve our problem. 

As for Vasusena… that wretched soul will never find favor with Maharani Gandhari again. Suyodhana has vowed to honor his mother’s commands. And after seeing Vasusena’s true nature, she will never permit any friendship between the two. Gradually, the poison Vasusena has spread will drain away, and our family will be united once more.”

“But he will remain unpunished for the venom he injected into the very heart of the Gandharinandanas,” Gangadutta uttered in a voice laden with anguish and despair. “Thanks to him, none of the Kauravas can look upon me without a veil of disgust. What of that , Vidura?

I am well aware that I bear at least partial responsibility for their disdain, but Vasusena’s insidious venom has tainted their perception of me. They used to hold me in respect and esteem. But now, all I see in their eyes is a well of revulsion.”

Vasusena, with his malicious influence, had managed to twist even the loving heart of Devi Gandhari into one of loathing. The sheer intellect and cunning of that boy was absolutely terrifying to behold. They needed a contingency against this intruder in their House and Kripa knew who exactly they could go to for that contingency.

“Jyestha…” Kripa began, his voice softening as he made eye contact with Vidura and his stepbrother. “I have a request for both of you.”

Bharatsattam halted abruptly and stared at his step-brother in confusion. “What?” he asked—his tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

“I wish to take a leave from my duties for an unspecified period,” Kripa stated firmly, his gaze unwavering despite the startled look of betrayal on his brother's face.

“Kakashree…” Vidura interjected, his voice trembling with anguish. “What are we discussing here, and what are you proposing? In these dark and uncertain times, you speak of abandoning us?”

“I am leaving Hastinapura,” Kripa declared with resolute determination, “and I will travel to Parashurama Kshetram, Jyestha.” He spoke with a firmness that brooked no argument, avoiding the wounded gaze of the son of Bhagirathi. “There is a good reason for why I decided to make this journey. I’m going there to seek your Gurudeva for the knowledge that will aid us in confronting Vasusena.”

Kripa’s words served to extinguish the immediate sense of betrayal in their hearts, though they were replaced by confusion and uncertainty. Observing their puzzled expressions, Kripa continued to clarify his intentions.

“Do you recall the confrontation between Gurushresta and Vasusena, Jyestha?” Kripa felt a sinister grin spread across his face, a predatory gleam in his eyes that felt foreign even to him. The bloodthirsty expression on his face was, however, unsettling for the others in the room. 

But they did not tarry at it for too long. The brother of Kripi could see the irritation flare in both Vidura and Gangeya at the mention of that incident.

" Yes, I remember," Bhishma growled, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury. "He dared to call my revered teacher a heartless butcher. That insult, that affront—I'll never forget my teacher’s pained countenance on that day—not till the very end of my life."

Kripa’s gaze was steady, almost admonishing, as he replied, "And that, Jyestha, is precisely what we must focus on." His tone was calm, but it carried an edge that cut through Bhishma’s anger like a blade forged by Vishwakarma himself. "I held my tongue that day, not because of agreement with you, but because a question gnawed at my very soul. A question so unfathomable, so beyond the realm of possibility, that I never dared to consider it—not even in the wildest reaches of my imagination."

Vidura’s brow furrowed in confusion. "What question, Kakashree?"

Kripa’s eyes sharpened, a glint of newfound clarity illuminating his expression. "Why did Vasusena insult Gurushresta so horrifyingly? There was no need to do so. So why did he? He has never been the kind to be idiotic or impulsive. And insulting Lord Parashurama is the exact kind of idiotic and impulsive act that I wouldn’t expect from him. That begs a question. Why?

And why , in the name of all thirty-three gods, did Rainukeya not kill or at least curse that Suta?" Kripa’s tone was a mixture of revelation and dread. "But now, after the arrival of Vishwadhipathi, the answer to that question has become terrifyingly clear."

Both Bhishma and Vidura inhaled sharply, at the same time. Oh Oh.

"Vasusena can see the future," Kripa declared, his voice charged with the thrill of discovery. "He can peer into countless possible futures, predicting every move, every thought, before it even forms in the minds of his opponents. When Lord Parashurama came here to take him as his disciple... Do you remember what Guru Parashurama said his response was?"

"‘Learning under you, Gurudeva is like a sheep trusting a butcher,’" Vidura repeated, the chilling words of Vasusena to Guru Parashurama still vivid in his mind. The mere mention of those words made Bhishma growl in frustration, and his anger rekindled. 

"Vasusena is an adharmi," Kripa said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But he possesses the terrifying power to see into the future."

“He insulted Lord Parshurama because your Gurudeva sought to manipulate and kill him, Jyestha. Your Gurudeva… in all the futures Vasusena has seen will be the cause of his death. And the way he will cause the death of Vasusena will be that of a betrayal. 

Your Gurudeva is a traitor in the eyes of Radheya. And he accepted himself to be a traitor out of shame. That’s the reason why he didn’t curse or kill Adityanandhana.”

Vidhura was rooted to the spot as he swallowed painfully. Goodness…..

“Vasusena foresaw the conflict that would arise between them. He knew Parashurama would come to see him as a threat, a danger to the very balance of dharma. And yet, he chose to walk that path, driven by something that is not known to us, as of now," Kripacharya pronounced firmly.

"Vasusena predicted his own downfall at the hands of Jamadagneya?"

"The kind of people whom the Vishnu avatar seeks to destroy is always on the side of adharma," he explained. "Vasusena was right to reject Guru Parashurama’s tutelage that day. Because in every possible future, he foresaw, a Vishnu avatar would be the cause of his demise.”

The Greatest of Kuru Vamsa let out a low growl. “Once an adharmi, always an adharmi,” he declared with the finality of a judge delivering a death sentence. “Get to the point, Kripa. Why is this crucial?”

Kripa’s eyes narrowed, his voice lowering as if to contain the magnitude of what he was about to reveal. "Because, Jyestha, oddly enough Vasusena was favored by not one, but two Vishnu avatars." The words hung in the air, heavy with a mix of  reluctant awe and foreboding. "One of them even cherished him enough to desire him as a disciple. And when I asked Krishna himself why he harbors such animosity towards that boy, do you know what he replied?"

He paused, taking a deep breath before repeating Krishna’s message: “‘Vasusena is one of the finest individuals I’ve ever known, Kripacharya. Yet his seething anger towards me and Bhishma transforms him into a cold-blooded being. 

He could have wielded the power granted by Parameshwara to mend this fractured family. But instead, he chose to use it to shatter it further.’ Those were his words, Jyestha. His exact words.”

Bhishma’s voice trembled, the disbelief etched into every syllable. “The avatar of Vishnu said this?”

“Yes.” He spoke solemnly. “Krishna spoke those words to me in my mind. He is not a bad person or an adharmi in the eyes of Krishna and Guru Parashuram.”

Kripa shook his head and continued, his tone measured and deliberate. "But that’s not the main point, Jyestha," he continued, his voice gaining a sharp edge. "In the thousands of futures that Vasusena foresaw… the foundation of his demise was always, always laid by the hand of a Vishnu avatar. Suryaputra understood with chilling clarity that he could never entrust his life or his fate to a Vishnu avatar.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in, before delivering the final blow. "In the countless futures he glimpsed, what are the chances that Vasusena never once saw a future where he stood alongside, rather than opposed to, a Vishnu avatar?" Bhishma’s face grew pensive, the gravity of the question pulling him into deep thought. 

"The odds, Jyestha, are astronomically low. And those odds diminish even further when you consider that he could see the future with such precision."

Kripa’s voice dropped to a near whisper, yet it carried the weight of a hammer striking an anvil. “So, why is he an adharmi in every future he perceives? Why did he consciously choose the path of adharma, even after witnessing the fate that awaited him? 

I do not say this lightly. If Ravanasura knew his future, even he would change his ways. Vasusena might not be more intelligent than Lankapathi, but he is wiser. A person who has known as many stories as that Suta has will always be wise. Because he will know what not to do.”

Kripa's eyes bore into Bhishma’s as if trying to impress upon him the gravity of what he was saying. "Vasusena deliberately decided to remain an adharmi. It was a conscious decision of his. Otherwise, he would never have rejected the hands of Lord Parshurama and Krishna, who sought to guide him onto the path of righteousness."

“What if he is submitting to his fate?” Bhishma mused to himself.

“Does that boy seem like a person who cares about things like Niyathi, Jyestha?” He spoke in an irritated manner. “If he did… he would never have killed Gandharraj just to change the fate of his brother. His entire journey till now is to change what Niyathi holds for him.”

“He must have another strong reason for doing so, Kakashree,” Vidura finally spoke, the realization dawning on him like a bolt of lightning. “If we can uncover that reason—if we can grasp what drives him—we can use it as leverage against him.” His voice was laced with a newfound urgency. “I’ll begin the preparations for your journey to Mahendragiri immediately.”

Bhishma’s expression hardened, his voice taking on a steely resolve. “Vidura and I will explore other avenues,” he declared, his mind starting to plan the strategies to repel the darkness that plagued his clan. 

“Vasudevaputra mentioned that Suyodhana only shared one part of what Vasusena revealed to his parents. We must uncover the full conversation, every word exchanged between them. There’s something crucial hidden in those words, something we cannot afford to ignore.”

He paused, his mind racing. “I wish Krishna were still here. With his insight, his wisdom—he could unravel this mystery with a mere glance. Why didn’t you ask your question when he was here, Kripa?”

Kripa’s face clouded with frustration, his voice barely above a murmur. “I realized its significance only after he left,” he admitted, the weight of missed opportunity leaving a bad taste in his mouth. 

The air between them crackled with the tension of their shared determination, the sense that time was slipping through their fingers, and with it, the answers they so desperately sought. If they did not get those answers in time… he doesn't know what devastation Adityanandhana would wreak upon Hastinapur with them being entirely powerless to prevent it.

*******************************************************

(Bhishma)

Nearly nine months had passed since the arrival of the Vishnu avatar in Hastinapura, and the consequences had been far-reaching. Vasusena, once a trusted companion to the princes, had been formally banished from their company by Queen Gandhari’s decree. 

However, the situation was more complex than it appeared on the surface. Dhritarashtra, his nephew, had not rescinded the order that barred the ministers, including Prime Minister Vidura, Kulguru Kripacharya, and the relatives from both sides of the family, from entering the royal quarters except for matters of state. While Gandhari continued to receive them, Dhritarashtra’s resolve remained unyielding.

What troubled Bhishma the most, however, was the disturbing change in Vasusena. The boy had seemingly embarked on another tapasya , a penance that had everyone on edge. He had stopped eating, and upon closer inspection, even refused to drink a single drop of water. 

Others might not notice the subtle signs, but Bhishma saw them clearly. Vasusena’s refusal to engage in the extermination of rakshasas, cruel animals, or bandits by stating, "I am not a Kshatriya; it is not my place," was deeply unsettling. 

As if he never did that before. Adityanandhana had the highest kill count in monster and bandit extermination among the army. He had never refused those orders. It did not take a genius to understand that the abominable Suta had started a tapasya again. Only during tapasya did people—who, under ordinary circumstances, would not refrain from killing— refrain from spilling blood, after all.

The last time this adharmi had undertaken a penance, he had invoked the presence of Neelakantha and received a boon to become his disciple. The power he had gained had kept Bhishma awake for many nights, his heart gripped by cold fear at the thought of what the boy might do next. 

Gandhari had ordered him to sever his friendship with the princes, and Vasusena had complied without a single word . Sun would have to rise in the west for that to happen at any other time.

Radheya was neither a compliant nor an obedient child. He was a rebel who always fought against the world. He was not the kind who would go down without a fight.

But this time, Vasusena was unnervingly silent. There were no grand gestures, no bold actions—nothing that could be predicted or controlled. This silence gnawed at Bhishma’s soul, setting both him and his nephew Vidura on edge. 

Kunti, in her wisdom, had suggested that Vasusena become her personal guard, perhaps as a means to keep a watchful eye on the boy. But, in an expected turn, Vasusena refused to become one.

That boon, which was a blessing to Vasusena, was nothing more than a curse for any plans they might make against the bastard. Whatever plans they concocted, Vasusena would know—his eyes would reveal them even before the thought entered their minds.

Oddly enough… Kunti had been devastated by Vasusena's refusal. ‘My daughter is too kind-hearted, too pure, to hate even that adharmi,’ he mused, the thought lingering in his mind like a heavy cloud 

His personal guard and charioteer, Pashi, announced that the soldier from the Samudra division, whom Bhishma had discreetly paid to monitor Vasusena, had arrived with urgent news. This soldier's task was simple: to report any deviation in Vasusena's routine or any actions that could spell trouble for Hastinapur.

This particular spy had once brought the peculiar report that Vasusena, during this tapasya , was praying not just to one deity, but to both Parameshwara and Vigneshwara. Bhishma had found this highly unusual—most devotees during such intense penance focused their prayers on a single god. 

‘Even his tapasya is odd,’ Bhishma had mused. The dual devotion had puzzled him. Why would the boy invoke both? The uncertainty gnawed at him, the lack of clarity feeding his growing anxiety. Vasusena was aware of the spy. It was impossible for him not to notice the snitch in his midst; So perhaps he was feeding him misleading information. Yet, the possibility that this was not a deception gnawed at Bhishma’s mind.

He had received word from Kripacharya just yesterday morning that he would be reaching Hastinapur in less than three days. The urgency of the situation gnawed at him. They needed leverage against Vasusena, and they needed it as soon as possible. The upcoming arrival of Kripa brought a flicker of hope; perhaps, with his brother’s efforts, they could secure the leverage they desperately needed against Vaikartana.

Hoping against hope that the news wasn’t dire, Bhishma ordered the spy to be brought before him.

“Pranaam, Mahaamahim Bhishma,” the soldier, Jala, greeted, bowing deeply.

 “What news do you bring?” Bhishma demanded, his tone not betraying the tension he felt.

Jala hesitated for a moment before speaking, “Vasusena ate with us today.”

Bhishma’s heart plummeted at the words. His face drained of color as the realization struck him immediately. If Vasusena had resumed eating, it could only mean one thing—his tapasya was complete. What boon did that adharmi receive this time? Fear gripped his heart at the unknown.

Please, Narayana , he prayed silently, his heart gripped by a cold, unrelenting dread. Save us from whatever disaster Vasusena is planning to unleash upon Hastinapura .

But the evening brought a fierce storm with it. After the court sessions had concluded, a messenger burst into the court, his face ashen, eyes wide with terror. Gasping for breath, he delivered the dire news: Bhimasena had been swept away by the merciless waves of the Ganga following a heated altercation with Suyodhana.

Panic erupted within the palace walls, spreading like wildfire. Orders were barked and with frantic urgency—all the remaining princes were to be brought back to Hastinapura immediately. The soldiers tasked with guarding them, along with Dronacharya himself, were to join in the search for the golden-hearted prince.

‘That abominable bastard ... This must be the work of his accursed boon,’ he seethed inwardly, his thoughts a maelstrom of rage and despair. ‘Forgive me, Surya Narayana... but your child has crossed every boundary today.’

Vasusena was called a good person who became an adharmi out of anger by Krishna. And he was a man who loved children more than anyone in the world . The logical part of his mind struggled to calm the raging tempest within. We must await Kripa before confronting the boy. Without iron-clad proof… he will make fools of us in the court of Hastinapur.’

But his emotions warred with his reason. He must have performed the tapasya with the sole intent of dividing my family. Vasusena is obsessed with taking revenge on me. His thoughts are a torrent of fury . Krishna said that those eyes cannot predict the path of the Devas. So when he wished for my family to be broken irrevocably, he might not have known the consequences. And the devas must have orchestrated this fight to fulfill his wish.

With this fight… any chance of reconciliation between the Pandavas and the Dhārtarāṣṭras would be nearly impossible.

‘But we cannot prove it.’ The logical side berated him. ‘And even if we assume that Vasusena asked for a cruel wish and got it fulfilled… Parameshwara and Vigneshwara are not cruel. They will not let Bhimasena die just to fulfill the wish of an adharmi.’

And the most frustrating part was that they needed that adharmi. With the help of his eyes, they could find Bhimasena quicker than any other  method. That thought only made the son of Ganga angrier. 

With long, furious strides, Bhishma stormed toward the quarters where the Samudra division resided. Though he tried to rein in his wrath, it radiated off him in waves, causing those in his path to shrink back in fear. The servants scattered like startled birds, each desperate to avoid the formidable ire of JahnaviPutra.

“Where is Vasusena?” he demanded, his voice sharp as a blade, as he found one of the soldiers quivering in a corner. The Suta was not in his usual haunts. The soldier, trembling, stammered out that Vasusena was in the training grounds. Without a word Bhishma stomped off—his fury barely contained—to find the suta.

He found Vasusena calmly meditating in the training grounds, seemingly unperturbed by the storm approaching him in the form of the Lord Protector of the Throne. 

“Vasusena…” Bhishma’s voice was measured, but the undercurrent of anger was unmistakable.

The boy let out a deep sigh and opened his eyes. “If you are here about Prince Bhimasena, Mahamahim Bhishma, then there’s nothing I can do to help you with that.”

Bhishma clenched his fists, his anger surging. Because of this Suta’s wish, his grandson was lost and now he was refusing to help.

Then a pit formed in his stomach. Vasusena, who loved children and always did his duty, was not helping in the search for Bhimasena. Did this mean his grandchild was dead? The thought was unbearable. If that was the case, Vasusena would pay dearly.

Perhaps sensing the dark turn in Bhishma’s thoughts, Vasusena narrowed his eyes in irritation. “Prince Bhimasena is still alive. But for the next seven days, he’ll be unconscious. No human could find him during this time. He’s in Nagaloka.”

“What?” Bhishma’s fury evaporated, replaced by shock.

“Vayuputra is currently in Nagaloka, where humans are not allowed without permission from the Nagas.” Vasusena stood up and dusted off his clothes. 

“After falling into the river, Prince Bhimasena was swept away by the currents and ended up near the Royal Entrance of the Naga Kingdom. He is a hot-headed child, so he’ll fight and injure several Nagas guards whose duty is to deny your grandson entry to their kingdom. Long story short, those cries will attract the King of Nagas, Vasuki who, impressed by your grandson’s valor, will decide to reward him.

Rajamata Kunti’s maternal grandfather, Aryaka Naga, is one of Vasuki’s chief advisors. He will request Naga Amrita to be given to his great-grandson. Each pot of Naga Amrita increases a person’s strength by the power of a thousand elephants and makes them immune to all poisons in the world.

Prince Bhimasena will drink ten pots of amrita. The power gained from that would be overwhelming for anyone, so he’ll be unconscious. He will be taken to his great-grandfather’s place where the Nagas will monitor him for the next seven days as his body adjusts to his newfound power.”

Bhishma’s face lit up with happiness. At this young age his grandson would receive a boon that would make him extremely powerful.

 “He’s fighting the Nagas right now. Searching for him is a waste of both time and resources. After he wakes up, Chief Aryaka himself will bring him here.”

But his joy was quickly shadowed by the mocking tone that crept into Aditya Putra’s voice. “You thought my penance caused this, didn’t you?” Bhishma was startled by the sudden shift in conversation.

Vasusena’s smile was patronizing. “Instead of losing your temper as you usually do, you used your brain for once. Guess even old dogs can learn new tricks.”

The mocking words made him wrathful. Kripa would come to Hastinapur by the end of tomorrow. Bhishma hoped his brother would bring a leash they could tie to the neck of Vasusena. 

It was the first time since his humiliation on that day that he spoke to Vasusena. And he couldn’t understand how  an adharmi such as he could be liked by two Vishnu avatars. 

He needed to know why this boy was this way. No one knew what poison Vasusena poured into the heart of Prince Suyodhana, because the conversation occurred  outside the palace walls. Bhishma decided that he’d try to get it from the very source itself. He never spoke to the boy after that fateful day. So Bhishma decided to talk with the boy and try to understand his mindset.

The boy started to leave the training ground before Bhishma spoke up. “I was blessed with parents who took great care that I would be well educated. I learned Shaastras at the feet of Guru Vasishtha and Shastras under Guru Parshurama.  

I learned Danda Neethi under the son of Angirasa along with mental and spiritual sciences under Guru Sanath Kumara. Guru Markandeya taught me the Brahmanya and Guru Shukracharya taught me politics.

I have studied under the greatest sages, fought in the bloodiest wars, and witnessed the rise and fall of kings and empires.

But you… no matter how many sacred texts I have delved into, nor how many illustrious sages I have studied under, I have never come across a person like you.

The laws and scriptures I have absorbed offer no recompense for the enormity of your actions. Your very existence seems to mock the essence of justice, Radheya. The devastation you wrought defies the very principles of righteousness that I have sworn to uphold. 

Is there a person who rejoices in doing evil quite like yourself? Is there a punishment fit for you in any law?” He growled. “Continue to walk in this path you’ll find yourself dying like a dog.”

Vasusena stopped walking but had his back turned to Bhishma. “I tried to live by dharma, Mahaamahim.” The boy replied softly. “I did several adharma, yes I don’t deny it… but I tried to live by dharma.” The voice was soft but his eyes were not.

“Do you know my reward for it?” Every trace of emotion was wiped off the face of Suryaputra. “Whenever I tried to do good, I was cursed to die like a dog.”

Bhishma’s throat dried up in a second. Sweat started to form in his hands at the words stated by Radheya. What the hell was this boy speaking?

“You have read many epics, Mahaamahim, and studied under the greatest of teachers,” Vasusena finally faced him, his voice low but edged with the intensity of a storm about to break. “And you said you have never seen a person like me.

 Then perhaps it is time for you to look beyond the veil of these ancient scriptures and witness the stark reality of our world, Mahaamahim.

Because this is Dwapara Yuga. Not Satya or Treta Yuga. This is Dwapara Yuga. In this grand stage of existence, where the roles are dictated by necessity, there are no true heroes or villains.”

He took a step closer, his gaze piercing through the space between them. “Deep within the human soul, there is but one thing that burrows itself into the very core—ego. In this world, one truth drives every living being—hunger. The only force that truly reigns over the restless soul is desire.

Vasusena’s gaze was unflinching, his voice now filled with a bitter resolve. “This is the reality, Pitamaha. This is the truth you will never find in your epics or your teachings. 

Ego is the first to take root in a man’s soul, and it is the last to be torn away. You see, when all else is gone when even the highest ideals are abandoned, the ego remains, clawing at the very heart of a man. ( Bhishma)

We feel hunger not just for food, but for power, for love, for recognition. It drives us, and pushes us to the brink of madness. And when that hunger consumes us, when it becomes the very core of our existence, what happens to our lofty principles? They melt away like wax before a flame, leaving nothing but a twisted, charred shadow of what we once were. ( Karna)

Desire that clouds the mind, blinds the eye to what is right and just. When desire takes hold, it chains the soul, warping thought, and corrupting even the purest intentions. ( Suyodhana)

We are all slaves to our desires, puppets to our egos, and prisoners of our hunger. And when those chains tighten, when those bonds constrict, all our ideals, our Dharmas, burn away like straw in a raging inferno. In that grip, truth becomes malleable, honor becomes negotiable, and even the most sacred oaths are forgotten. ( Yudhistira)

This is the truth of the world Mahaamahim. Look at me through those lenses and maybe you’ll find your answers.”

‘What an intelligent child.’ Bhishma thought with a startling hint of sadness. What was the use of such intellect when it was used for propagating adharma?

“You speak of ego, hunger, and desire, Radheya,” Bhishma began, his tone measured, laden with the weight of countless years of wisdom. “But do you truly believe that these are the forces that define us? That they are the ultimate truths of this world?”

He stepped forward, his presence commanding, his voice resonating with an authority that only the pillar of the Kuru dynasty could wield. “I have walked the path of Dharma my entire life, Radheya.” The boy snorted in disbelief.

But Bhishma’s eyes bore into Radheya, unyielding and fierce. “What you speak of—ego, hunger, desire—these are the chains that bind us to the mortal world, yes. But they are not unbreakable. A true warrior, a true man, does not succumb to them. He does not allow them to dictate his actions, to cloud his judgment, to corrupt his soul.”

He paused, his voice growing even more intense, like the steady, unrelenting beat of a war drum. “The stories, the epics you dismiss—they are not just tales of glory and valor, Radheya. They are lessons, warnings, passed down through the ages to guide us, to remind us that while these chains may be strong, the will to break them is stronger.”

Bhishma’s expression softened, but only slightly, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features. “I have seen pride, arrogance, and defiance, but never have I seen them so tightly bound to a soul as yours, twisted by your refusal to see beyond the limitations you place upon yourself.”

His voice, though stern, held a note of sorrow. “Radheya, you have allowed your desires to blind you, to turn you away from the path of righteousness. You have chosen to let your hunger, your desire for revenge and your ego, drive your every action. But in doing so, you have forsaken the greater truths, the higher callings that a person born of your caliber could have embraced.”

“You might think that I did adharma by ordering the death of your brother. But I did my Dharma as the elder of Hastinapur.” Bhishma gritted out. “For society to function the way it should… traditions should be upheld. Even Krishna helped us because what we did is Dharma.” 

Vasusena's expression turned to stone, betraying no emotion. "In your anger, you sought to fracture my family," he said coldly. "But Vishwadhipathi himself came to heal what you tried to break."

Radheya blinked as if trying to grasp the weight of the words spoken to him. 

Then he began to laugh—an eerie, echoing sound that filled the training grounds. His laughter grew louder and more unhinged until he nearly lost his balance, barely managing to steady himself by gripping one of the pillars.

A ripple of unease stirred within Bhishma's heart. Why was the Suta laughing? It had been so long since anyone had heard Vasusena laugh—longer still since it had been anything but a cruel, mocking sound at the expense of others' misery.

"The King still hasn't allowed you back into his personal chambers, Mahamahim Bhishma," Vasusena said, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Do you wish to know why?"

Bhishma frowned, uncertain whether Vasusena was mocking him or offering some twisted form of assistance. Knowing the Suta, it was probably both. 

The knowledge of why Dhritarashtra barred him and Vidura from his chambers could be a key—a key to restoring the fractured bonds of their family. If he knew, perhaps he could mend the rift and finally be welcomed back. 

Pandu, if he was in his brother’s place, would have forgiven him long ago. Why, then, was Dhritarashtra so stubborn?

"King Dhritarashtra didn’t allow you to enter his chambers because he knew it would change nothing." Vasusena snorted, his tone dripping with disdain. "Because he knows better than anyone what it feels like to be unfavorably compared to a sibling and always always end up with the short end of the stick."

Bhishma’s confusion deepened as he struggled to comprehend what the Suta was insinuating. 

"You loved Prime Minister Vidura more than King Pandu. And you loved King Pandu more than you ever loved King Dhritarashtra. Do you realize that, without even thinking, you always praise King Pandu in front of King Dhritarashtra? Even now, in your mind, you believe that King Pandu would have already forgiven you."

Bhishma’s face remained impassive, unable to comprehend the words of Vaikartana. Yes, he had thought that—but only because it was the truth. How was this relevant now? Why was Vasusena bringing this up?

“Still don’t understand what I’m saying, Mahaamahim?” Vasusena's voice was laced with dark amusement, his eyes gleaming with a growing mirth. “Because, as someone who has experienced your disdain firsthand, king Dhritarashtra now seeks to shield his children from the poison of  creating jealousy that you so carelessly nurture.”

Bhishma's mind reeled. What was the boy implying? Was he suggesting that he, Bhishma, had introduced the poison of jealousy into Dhritarashtra's heart? Dhritarashtra’s jealousy stemmed from being denied the throne, not from anything else. 

“Ah, you’re finally catching on,” Vasusena sneered, his grin widening into something vicious. “But that’s not quite what I’m saying, Mahaamahim. You didn’t plant the seed of jealousy—that was sown long ago when King Dhritarashtra was passed over for the throne because of his blindness.”

“But you… you’re the one who nurtured that poison,” Vasusena continued, his voice dripping with contempt. “Lovingly, happily and without a thought… you have watered it, given it nutrients and raised the plant of envy in the heart of King Dhritarashtra until it grew into the equivalent of the ageless Banyan tree.”

His hand shot out, gripping Vasusena’s angavastram in a sudden, uncontrollable surge of fury. But the boy merely glanced at the hand clutching his garment and smiled mockingly on his face and batted it away. He looked back into his eyes as if daring Bhishma to act on his anger.

“How dare you?” Bhishma growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, his rage barely held in check.

Vasusena didn’t flinch. Instead, he stared back at Bhishma with a cold, fearless gaze, his expression taunting. The tension between them crackled like a storm. “Shall I prove it, Mahaamahim Bhishma?”

Bhishma’s voice thundered with authority, though a tremor of anger slipped through. “I don’t have to listen to your lies , boy.”

Vasusena’s eyes narrowed, his disdain cutting through the air like a blade. “Coward,” he hissed, the word dripping with venom. He spat on the ground before Bhishma, the act a deliberate insult. “Afraid I’ll expose your flaws to the world?” he sneered, each word carrying a sting meant to wound.

Bhishma’s patience snapped. “Then this is a court martial!” His voice rang out, final and absolute. “You have spoken against a member of the royalty of Hastinapur.” Without missing a beat, he shouted, “Ananda!” A servant appeared almost instantly, trembling under the weight of Bhishma’s wrath. “Go to Prime Minister Vidura and tell him that I request his presence here as soon as possible.”

But Vasusena’s confidence remained unshaken, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. “You want a witness to your humiliation, Mahaamahim Bhishma?” he asked, his tone almost mocking. 

The sheer audacity of Vasusena’s words made Bhishma falter even as he remained stoic on the outside. He had blundered. Good god , how did he forget that Vasusena knew how all of this would play out?

Vasusena’s lips curled into a mirthful smirk. “Are you second-guessing your thoughts in such a short time, Mahaamahim? How on earth did you forget my boon? It seems that old age has finally caught up to you,” he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. The barb was sharp, cutting into Bhishma’s pride.

“I’ll offer you an out,” Vasusena continued, his tone deceptively casual. “I’ll tell Prime Minister Vidura everything I’ve shared with you about Prince Bhimasena. It will bring relief to Rajamata Kunti, and she will surely calm her other sons.”

His words hung in the air as a twisted offer of mercy. 

As the tension between Bhishma and Vasusena reached a fever pitch, the sound of footsteps echoed through the training grounds. Vidura arrived at the place with his usual calm demeanor, a stark contrast to the storm that had just passed between the two that were already there. The son of Parishrami glanced between them, sensing the unease in the air.

Bhishma, for all his pride and fury, was silent. The words he wished to speak remained unspoken. If he started accusing Vasusena here, it would spell doom for him. Radheya’s face might be mirthful but the steel in his eyes was not something he could underestimate. So he stood there, silent, his gaze averted from Vidura’s inquisitive eyes.

Vasusena, however, was unfazed. The mirth in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a cold, calculating calm as he addressed Vidura directly. “Prime Minister, Mahaamahim Bhishma came to get my help to know the whereabouts of Prince Bhimasena.” he began, his voice steady, almost indifferent. “He wished that I could use my boon to find him easily.

Prince Bhimasena is currently in Nagaloka, where no human can reach him without permission. He’s alive, but he will be unconscious for the next seven days. Mahamahim Bhishma was informed of the deeper details. Wait near the banks of Vyashampayana Lake after seven days and the Naga chief Aryaka Naga will deliver him to you. 

Tell Maharani Kunti that her grandfather is looking over her son so nothing will happen to the young prince.”

Vidura absorbed this information, his expression thoughtful. “This will be a relief to Kunti-jiji,” he said quietly. “I will go inform her at once.”

Bhishma, still silent, watched as Vidhura turned and left to deliver the news. Vasusena had kept his word, and the weight of it all pressed heavily on the elder’s shoulders.

“Defend yourself, Vasusena,” Bhishma gritted out, his voice strained with the effort to contain his emotions.

Vasusena’s lips curled into that familiar smirk. “I have a small question, Mahaamahim Bhishma,” he began, his tone laced with returning mirth. “Why is King Pandu remembered so fondly even now among the ministers of the court?”

Bhishma’s mind reeled with confusion. What kind of question was this? Was the bloody Suta deliberately toying with him?

“If I wished to play games with you Mahaamahim… you’d be spit on the face by Queen Gandhari. I’m more than capable of it. And the question I will ask would be something completely different.” Vasusena replied as if reading Bhishma’s thoughts, his mirth remaining undiminished. “But for now, answer my question.”

“Pandu is remembered fondly because he was a dharmic king,” Bhishma replied in a hard tone, his voice laced with authority. “He always listened to his elders and expanded his kingdom through valor and righteousness.”

Vasusena looked amused by the response. “I’m not asking why King Pandu was a good king, Mahaamahim Bhishma. I’m asking why he is remembered even now fondly among the ministers of the court?”

Bhishma's patience began to wear thin. ‘Does this suta always have to speak in riddles?’ he thought in irritation. ‘Why can’t he just come to the point directly?’

Sensing Bhishma’s frustration, Vasusena conceded with a slight nod. “It seems I was a bit ambiguous with my question, Mahaamahim. Allow me to rephrase.”

The boy’s voice took on a sharper edge as he continued, “King Pandu ruled Hastinapur for about ten years. In those ten years… two years were spent on his weddings and the related proceedings. 

Six years went to wars and the distribution of wealth gained from them. At most, he ruled as an administrator for less than two years before he took his wives and left for Vanavas.”

Vasusena’s eyes gleamed with a challenge as he posed his question once more. “So tell me, Mahaamahim Bhishma… why is he remembered favorably among the ministers of the court even now?”

Bhishma remained silent, his expression blank as he contemplated the question. It was a valid one. Pandu had left Hastinapur more than a decade ago, and Dhritarashtra had since taken his place as king. 

The fickle nature of people's memories often led them to forget even the good done to them after a few years. Pandu was undoubtedly a good king, but as an administrator, his experience was limited. Yet, the ministers still spoke of him with reverence. Why?

“No answer.” Vasusena smiled softly, but there was a sinister glow in his eyes. “It is quite simple: They remember King Pandu favorably because of you.”

Bhishma frowned, unsure of the relevance of this to their conversation. 

“The ministers, who should love the king, always looked at the current king with disappointment because of you, Mahaamahim Bhishma,” the son of Surya grinned maliciously.

Bhishma’s irritation flared. What was this bloody suta blathering on about?  It was Dhritarashtra who, blinded by his own love for his children, had failed to see their flaws. Bhishma knew he had played a role in the Dhārtarāṣṭras’ ill behavior, but it was their parents who should ultimately have guided them. 

True, he had neglected his duties toward the Dhārtarāṣṭras, and he had even apologized to Gandhari and was prepared to apologize to Dhritarashtra as well. But what did that have to do with Pandu’s memory?

“Still didn’t understand what I’m saying? Old dogs really cannot be taught new tricks,” Vasusena mocked, his tone dripping with disdain. Bhishma’s knuckles turned white at the mockery.

“Despite having more time as an administrator… King Dhritarashtra is seen as nothing more than a blind and incompetent ruler who cares only for his children,” Vasusena continued softly. “It’s not because of his actual nature. It was because of you, Mahaamahim Bhishma.”

“Whenever the King dared to express a different opinion, be it good or bad… you openly insulted him in court, declaring that if King Pandu were in his place, he would have done better!”

“Insulted him?” Bhishma growled, seething with anger as he gripped Vasusena’s angavastram once more. “It is my duty as an elder of Hastinapur to guide the king on the right path! I should have disregarded your words and initiated a court martial with Vidhura! If Dhritarashtra feels insulted by my guidance… if he cannot accept the counsel of his elders, then he is unfit to rule!”

This time, Vasusena did not shove Bhishma’s hand away. Instead, he gripped his wrist tightly, the pressure cutting off blood circulation and causing discomfort. Bhishma’s face contorted with unease as the pain began to set in, but before it became unbearable, Vasusena released him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Your teacher Shanath Kumara would be very disappointed with you, Mahaamahim,” Vasusena sneered. “Correcting a person within the confines of four walls is advice. But to berate him in public is nothing short of humiliation. You studied mental and physical sciences under him… How on earth did you forget the basics of psychology?”

Bhishma stood rooted, the weight of the words sinking in. 

“From the very day, King Dhritarashtra ascended the throne… you insulted him at every turn. Once might have been dismissed; twice, perhaps tolerated. But your relentless comparisons—repeated time and again—only served to deepen their disdain.

As if that wasn’t enough, even when King Dhritarashtra did something right, you would claim that King Pandu would have done it better. You turned every achievement into a reminder of his supposed shortcomings. His every potentially sweet memory you injected with bitterness.

King Dhritarashtra became a king loathed by every minister in the court because you made him that way. You did not merely criticize; you constructed a narrative that rendered him incapable in their eyes.

By constantly comparing him to King Pandu, you planted the notion among the ministers that King Pandu’s reign was a golden age, while they now must suffer under this blind man. ”

Bhishma’s heart pounded, the weight of Vasusena’s words sinking in. Memories flashed before his eyes—each instance of harsh criticism, every disparaging remark about Dhritarashtra. The realization hit him with crushing force: Vasusena was not wrong. He had, through his own actions, nurtured the seeds of disdain and disappointment that now tainted Dhritarashtra’s reign. 

“I truly feel sorry for the king,” Vasusena said, his voice tinged with false pity while his eyes sparkled with mockery and amusement. “He always believed that your favor towards King Pandu was due to his blindness. And because he was never properly coronated as a king, he thought the ministers loathed him.”

Vasusena’s smile was mocking as he continued, “He understood well that you would never show affection to those you deem unworthy. So he hoped that if his son were to be properly crowned , then Prince Suyodhana would at least have the respect of the ministers.”

Gangeya's heart tightened as Vasusena's words sliced through him. His inner voice, usually steady and resolute, trembled with the weight of realization. What have I done? Parameshwara, what have I done? The question echoed in his mind, an anguished cry that reverberated through his very soul.

Vasusena’s voice continued, sharp and unyielding, “Have you ever wondered why King Dhritarashtra stopped bothering to take your advice? Even before Prince Suyodhana went to air his grievances, he had already stopped listening to you. Do you know why?”

Bhishma stood frozen, the truth beginning to dawn on him with unbearable clarity. He had always believed his counsel was just, rooted in dharma. But now, the memory of every decision, every reprimand, every moment of disapproval loomed before him like specters. The ghosts of his actions started to loom over him and he felt light headed.

“No? I’ll tell you. It was because after all the humiliation he suffered at your hand, the King had finally had enough. He understood that even if he did what he liked, he’d be humiliated. And if he did what he didn’t like, he’d still be humiliated. So why bother doing things he doesn’t like?”

Bhishma’s breath hitched. The King, his nephew, had borne the weight of his disdain for years, each slight driving a deeper wedge between them. The notion that his own actions had pushed Dhritarashtra to abandon him, to stop seeking his guidance, was a truth more painful than any battlefield wound.

“And when he learned that even after Prince Bhimasena nearly killed his sons, you conspired to cover it up out of favoritism… that was the last straw.”

A chill ran down Bhishma's spine as those words settled in. Favoritism? Was that not what he had always accused his nephew of?

The accusation gnawed at him, ripping apart the foundation of his self-righteousness. The incident with Bhimasena—he had thought he was protecting the Pandavas, preserving peace. But in doing so, he had betrayed the trust of Dhritarashtra, of Suyodhana and of all his other 99 grandsons born of his eldest nephew.

“You always accused King Dhritarashtra of putra moh Mahaamahim.” Vasusena smiled cruelly this time, not even bothering to hide his malice. “Your grandson too has an accusation to level against you.”

And just like Krishna had done to show Vasusena’s past… Radheya conjured up a screen of mist showing the conversation between Suyodhana, Dhritarashtra and Gandhari.

Bhishma’s breath caught in his throat as the mist swirled into shape, revealing the royal chamber where Dhritarashtra and Gandhari sat with their son, Suyodhana. Vasusena’s voice was cold and detached as he narrated, “See for yourself, Mahaamahim, what your wisdom has wrought.”

Suyodhana's mocking tone rang out from within the scene. Mahaamahim Bhishma? Prime Minister Vidura? Amma, really? The scorn in his voice was unmistakable, each word a blade slicing through the thick fabric of his convictions. The child’s derision was palpable.

When Suyodhana spoke of being called "Hastinapur ka kalank," the curse of the kingdom, his heart constricted. The title, declared by himself at the first mistake done by Suyodhana in his childishness, was a brand that had festered, warping the young prince’s soul. Bhishma watched, horrified, as the words twisted Suyodhana’s face into a mask of bitterness.

Then came the accusation that cut Bhishma to the bone: Ask him first to spend time with us without thinking that I and my brothers are Kulnashaks. The contempt in Suyodhana's voice rang loud and clear. Bhishma recoiled inwardly, his mind racing back to every moment he had looked at the sons of Dhritarashtra and seen not children, but harbingers of destruction. How had he failed so profoundly?

Suyodhana’s bitter recounting of Vidura’s neglect, his manipulations, and his disdain for the Dhārtarāṣṭras felt like a hammer striking an anvil in Bhishma’s chest. The young prince’s pain, his sense of abandonment, echoed through the mists like a dirge, each word a reminder of the failure that Bhishma could no longer deny.

When Suyodhana confronted his mother about her blindness, asking why she had chosen to abandon her duties to her children, Bhishma’s gaze flickered, his resolve weakening further. The boy’s accusation that Gandhari had failed as a mother, neglecting her dharma, was a mirror that reflected not just her failure but Bhishma’s own. He basically asked his mother why she was blind just on the words of a person who loathed them.

As Suyodhana spoke of Dussasana’s pain, Bhishma’s body tensed. The image of the young boy, broken and alone, branded as a thief without trial or testimony, flashed before his eyes. How had he been so blind to their suffering? The anguish in Suyodhana's voice, so full of disappointment and betrayal, was a stark contrast to the love Gangeya had always seen in the eyes of the firstborn of Dhritarashtra.

Bhimasena did not try to kill your brother, Suyodhana. The words of Suyodhana's mother, Queen Gandhari, echoed in the background, a futile attempt to quell the storm brewing within her son. 

He watched in horror as Suyodhana, filled with righteous fury, interrogated the royal physician. The scene unfolded with brutal clarity—the disdain in Suyodhana's voice, the trembling fear of the physician, and the cruel, calculated violence that followed. Bhishma's heart ached as he saw the prince he had once sought to guide transform into a figure of cold vengeance, using the same laws that he had upheld to justify his actions.

Gangadutta could only watch, powerless, as the young prince sought his own twisted form of justice. The physician's screams, the chilling taunts of Suyodhana, and the cold logic that justified each act of violence—these were all manifestations of the hatred that had been allowed to grow unchecked.

And then, the final blow: By Mahaamahim Bhishma, the physician cried out, revealing the source of the order that had kept the truth from reaching the king and queen. Bhishma's breath caught in his throat as the realization struck him. His own actions, intended to protect, had instead sown the seeds of distrust and resentment.

Suyodhana's sneer as he repeated his bitter words with a chilling finality, cut deeper than any weapon. Mahaamahim Bhishma, amma? Really? That's the person with whom you trusted our well-being? The accusation hung in the air, heavy with the weight of betrayal.

Bhishma's mind raced as he grappled with the implications of what he had just witnessed. The boy who had once looked up to him, who had sought his guidance, now saw him as the architect of his misery. Suyodhana's disdain, his anger, his sense of abandonment—all of it was a reflection of Bhishma's own failures.

And then, the final, crushing realization: If my own mother starts to hate me, how would I expect others to love me? Suyodhana's voice, laced with sorrow and bitterness, drove the point home.

What have I done? The question tore through Bhishma's heart, a desperate plea for answers that would never come. He had upheld the laws of the land, he had tried to maintain peace, but in doing so, he had lost sight of the very people he was meant to protect.

As the vision faded, leaving Bhishma alone with his thoughts, he could not escape the truth that Vasusena had forced him to confront. His actions, his decisions, his unwavering adherence to dharma—it had all led to this moment, where the bonds of family were shattered, so much that the sons of his nephew would rather gouge off their eyes than see him.

Vasusena leaned against a pillar with a mirthful smile. But his eyes are filled with wrath that was confusing to Bhishma. Is Vasusena angry on Suyodhana behalf? Did the boy really love his friend instead of seeing him as an instrument of revenge against him?

“It was on that day the King finally understood what kind of person you are exactly,” Vasusena’s voice pierced through the mist, pulling Bhishma back to the present. The elder’s knees felt weak, the realization crashing down on him with devastating force. 

He had called Vasusena an adharmi, a destroyer of his family, yet it was his own actions, his own blindness, that had fractured the royal family beyond repair.

“The King’s  hope that one day you’d come to love him and his children was dashed to pieces on that day.” Vasusena’s voice, cold and unrelenting, not caring of the heartbreak and turmoil he felt “He started comparing every reaction you had for his children’s action against the children of King Pandu. 

“When Yudhistira was born you celebrated. When Suyodhana was born… you ordered the King to throw the infant— a newborn infant who happened to be his own son—into the forest as a feed for beasts. 

Before this conversation he thought just because Suyodhana was born with the wrong horoscope… you felt that way. But as the Prince has stated.. Prince Bhimasena too was born the same day. But you loved him. You loved him enough to cover up the fact that he nearly killed the King’s sons.”

Bhishma’s eyes, filled with desperation, pleaded silently with Vasusena to stop. Please… no more. But the suta’s cruelty knew no bounds.

“Even a blind man can see your partiality, Mahaamahim,” Vasusena spat, his words laced with venom. “And the endless comparisons. The bloody, relentless comparisons.” 

Vasusena’s tone turned mocking, and he started to cruelly imitate Bhishma’s voice when he spoke with his nephew. Pandu’s children are so polite, Dhritarashtra, why is your son so rude? 

Vasusena reminded him every word he shouted at the King all these years about his sons.

Pandu’s children are warriors, Dhritarashtra, why are your children so lazy? Pandu’s children are brilliant, Dhritarashtra, why can’t your children understand when told once? For a man, one word is enough; for a beast, a beating is required. And even after the beatings, why are they still such fools, Dhritarashtra?

“Stop…” Bhishma started to wail. “Please stop.” He begged with folded hands.

“You are crying just for this Mahaamahim?” The body spoke with amusement flickering in his eyes. 

“Can I tell you a fact, Mahaamahim? For all people call Prince Suyodhana the destroyer of Kuru Vamsa… it is Prince Bhimasena who has the most amount of Kuru’s blood on his hands.” Bhishma’s blood chilled at those words. Vasusena’s eyes for the first time he started speaking showed no emotion. His eyes are frighteningly blank. 

“In most of the futures I have seen… Prince Bhimasena would be the one who will kill all one hundred Dhārtarāṣṭras . And at least half of all their children will meet their end in Prince Bhimasena’s hands.”

“You lie ..” Bhishma spoke in a hoarse tone. 

 “Why bother to lie when the truth is far more devastating than anything I could conjure? I’m not lying. Trust me, for what Prince Suyodhana did in those lives… Prince Bhimasena was justified in killing him. But most of his brothers were innocent.

Do you know what the cold-hearted beast you call the gold-hearted boy did? He made an oath to kill all his cousins. Prince Suyodhana made a mistake… no he committed a grave sin, I won’t deny it.”Vasusena took a deep breath. “But it was his brother Prince Yudhistira who committed an even worse sin.” 

‘My grandson is the son of Yama Dharmaraja. Vasusena must be lying.’ He thought hysterically. But the eyes of the suta do not lie. Radheya is not making this up. 

“Outwardly the sons of King Pandu were the ones who were the victims. But no one understood that they have the greater share of the sin that occurred on that day. For the love he had and to cover for the sin of his eldest brother… Prince Bhimasena promised to wash away that stain with the blood of his cousins. And he did kill all of them.

 And some of their deaths were so brutal that…” The boy shuddered and Bhishma felt uneasy. Vasusena was the kind that remained unflinching, his composure steady even amidst the carnage. If he, too, felt a tremor of unease, how brutal were those killings?

Vasusena then shook his head as if to dispel the memories of the deaths of his grandson. “You call yourself a dharmik, Mahaamahim? So much so that Narayana himself had to descend to heal the fractures in your family?” His laughter was a bitter, mocking echo in the chamber, a mix of wrath and helplessness. 

"You dared to call me an adharmi, accusing me of shattering this family. But I never needed to resort to adharma to achieve that. The cracks were already there, deep and festering, long before I ever came into the picture. The weapon that fractured this family was crafted by your hands. I merely wielded the weapon you forged.”

His gaze bore into Bhishma’s, unrelenting. “In my anger, I sought to fracture your family,” he continued, his voice cold as ice. “But Vishwadhipathi himself came to heal what I tried to break. These are your words, are they not?”

Vasusena’s tone darkened, a shadow passing over his face. “Do you even understand who Krishna is? Do you comprehend the enormity of the Vishnu avatar that is Keshava?”

“As Matsya, Lord Vishnu was the sustainer of humankind, ensuring their survival. As Kurma, he stabilized the mountain Mandara, allowing the churning of the Ocean of Milk. As Varaha, he slew Hiranyaksha and brought the earth out of cosmic darkness. As Narasimha, he proved that divine justice knew no limits or boundaries, tearing apart the very notion of invulnerability. As the Vamana, he showed that victory need not come through war alone, that it can be achieved through intelligence too.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “In all of these avatars, he never lived as a human until Sage Parashurama. Bhargava was incarnated to destroy the arrogant rulers who tortured their subjects, an avatar of valor, unmatched in his wrath and righteousness.”

“But then came Sri Rama Chandra, the Maryada Purushottama, the ideal man. In this avatar, Vishnu showed the world what it meant to be human, to uphold duty, respect, and righteousness. He was the beacon of dharma, the epitome of what a man should be.”

“You might be wondering why I’m telling you all of this.  It is because you are dealing with Krishna…” Vasusena leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, “...who is a very different entity altogether. He has the best qualities of all the avatars, but to our misfortune, he is the most dangerous.”

“Krishna is a politician, Mahaamahim,” Vasusena's eyes glinted with chilling intensity. “If you think you can deal with him like you would with your teacher or with Sri Rama, then you’ve already dug your own grave. 

He is not bound by the same constraints as the others. He is a strategist, a manipulator, a force of nature that bends the world to his will. 

He has a very odd reputation among Kshatriyas. A liar, a trickster, a womanizer, a battleground deserter, a thief and many other attributes that are not something you expect from a Kshatriya, let alone a Vishnu avatar. Yet he is more than willing to be called all of these because those words are irrelevant to him as long as he completes his dharma.

Keshava just looks like a soft person. But do you know in the future he will pray to Parameshwara to gain a son. Do you know what kind of a son he wished for? He wished for a son who would be the destroyer of Yadavas, his own kin.” Tendrils of fear gripped Bhishma’s heart. If he could do that to his own kin… “And do you know the reason why he did it? He did it because it is his duty.”

“The best way to describe Keshava is that he is the kind who, without a trace of regret, commits adharma to protect dharma. Ruthless and calculative, he is the kind who can wipe out the entire nation without even lifting a single weapon.

Every word you speak with him, every step you take, every thought you have… be cautious. He does not care about underhanded methods as long as his duty is done. Even if you are on his side… you’ll never know when he will decide to dispose of you when your job is done.

And you’re saying such a person came here to heal a family broken by me? And without asking or praying?" Vasusena's eyes sparkled with a cruel mirth. 

"Think carefully, Mahaamahim. What exactly did Krishna promise you? He promised you entry into the room of Devi Gandhari. When did he ever promise you that he’ll heal the fracture between the Dhārtarāṣṭras and the Pandavas?"

A shiver ran down Bhishma's spine as the memory of his conversation with Krishna resurfaced, and with it, the unsettling realization that Radheya was speaking the truth.

“Why?” Bhishma croaked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why would he cheat us?”

“When did he ever cheat you, Mahaamahim?” Vasusena's grin widened, revealing every tooth, a chilling expression of satisfaction. “He did exactly what he said he’d do. Nothing more, nothing less. Did I not tell you he’s the most dangerous of all avatars? As for why, I do understand a part of why he did what he did but I have no reason to tell you.”

Bhishma— his face soaked with tears—looked at the mocking face of Suryaputra. He had initiated this conversation to try and understand a child who had gained both hate and respect from two of Narayana avatars.  He had tried to make the boy understand that his brother’s death is for greater good.

‘What a fool I was. Keshava had warned me, hadn’t he?’ The subtle hints, the quiet admonitions—Krishna had tried to make him see what lay beneath the surface of Vaikaratana. 

Kripa too had seen it, recognizing the wisdom that resided within the young child, understanding that this was not a boy to be confronted in any battle—political or physical.

But Bhishma—in his self-righteousness, in the ego that had built up over years of being the unchallenged patriarch of the Kuru dynasty—had underestimated Vaikartana. How could he have been so blind? 

Vasusena might look like a child, but he was no mere child that Bhishma could guide or mold on the path of dharma. No, this was a soul who had glimpsed the countless threads of fate, who had seen the myriad of ways the future could unfold.

He was never a child. From the moment Vasusena had that first vision, he was already far older than anyone could comprehend. Trapped in the body of a child, yes, but carrying the weight of lifetime in his mind. 

That’s why he remained unbothered by the insults hurled at him, why the scorn of others washed over him like rain over a mountain. To him, these were the yappings of babes—insignificant, meaningless.

Bhishma—who had always prided himself on his wisdom—suddenly felt small, insignificant in comparison to the boy who stood before him. Vasusena was far wiser than he could ever hope to be, a man who had already traversed the paths of dharma and adharma, who understood the world in a way that Bhishma could never grasp.

Hell, just with this single conversation he had learnt more about himself and his family than he can ever imagine.

Vasusena was a mirror, reflecting the flaws, the biases, the partialities that had long festered within the Kuru dynasty.

Every accusation Vasusena hurled was laced with truth, bitter and undeniable. Bhishma had to admit to himself that he had been blind to the very fractures he had caused. The favoritism, the relentless comparisons, the cruel judgments—all had contributed to the creation of the division of his family. 

He just blamed Vasusena because it was easy for him. Vasusena never needed to fracture the family with adharma; the family had fractured itself, and Vasusena was the one who had looked past the facade of a united family to point a finger at the rot.

Radheya’s bitterness was not just the result of his own suffering. It was the result of knowing that he had been a pawn in a game far greater than himself—a game played by gods and kings, where his own desires, his own wishes, were sacrificed for a greater good that he could neither see nor accept.

He understood, at that moment, that Vasusena was not just a man who saw fate. He was a man who had become the very embodiment of fate’s cruelty. And in this, perhaps, he was the most dangerous enemy the Kuru dynasty had ever faced—not because he sought their destruction, but because he understood, with painful clarity, that their destruction was inevitable. And all of it, Bhishma realized with a cold, sinking feeling, had been set into motion by his own hand.

“You allowed Kripacharya to go to Mahendragiri to find a leash for me.” Bhishma’s heart skipped a beat in fear. Vasusena’s smile was an unsettling blend of pity and viciousness. 

The boy’s gaze bore into him, sharp as a blade. “Kripacharya will bring back knowledge, the only thing that could ever hope to leash me. There is only one person in this world whom I love more than life itself. And Padmanabha has already revealed to you who that person is. He did not say the name but he already revealed to you who that is.”

Bhishma’s mind raced back to the dimly lit room where Krishna had spoken, his voice heavy with admiration of the strength Vasusena possessed.

“He will lose his entire family due to the schemes and machinations of Gandharraj Shakuni. Vasusena loved one person above all else. In his own words, there are very few sins he wouldn't commit for the happiness of that brother.”

As those words echoed in Bhishma’s mind, Vasusena continued, his voice laced with a wry, almost bitter amusement. “Kripacharya will learn the name of the one I loved more than anything from your teacher. He will uncover the name of the brother for whom I would willingly descend into hell. 

My brother, my soul, my very heart.” The softness in the eyes of Radheya was stunning to look at. Love poured out of his eyes and all his features softened. Who inspired such a love in this heartless Suryaputra… Bhishma longed to know.

“Any other man who tries to wield that knowledge against me will die. For he is both my strength and my weakness.”  In a matter of seconds, Vasusena’s eyes hardened with violence and Bhishma shuddered. Just the thought of anyone touching the person he loved made Vasusena this way?

“But you… you or anyone in Hastinapur could never hope to wield it against me.” And these words confused him. Why not?

 “Tomorrow, after you complete your talk with Kripacharya, come with Prime Minister Vidhur here to this place. I will reveal to you the conversation that took place between Suyodhana and me.

"Let us lay all our cards on the table, Mahaamahim," Vasusena's voice curled into a sneer. "You have a thought gnawing at you, don’t you? A thought that every free moment I possess, I spend plotting your family’s ruin. Let me spare you the burden of your assumptions.”

He leaned in, his tone dropping to a cold whisper. "You are the snake I have already slain, Mahaamahim.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “No, let me rephrase my words. You are the snake who ate itself due to pride and all I can see is a dying pitiful thing I can’t even be bothered to kill.

I have won against you a long time ago , and I am not the sort who strikes at the head of a dead serpent. My time is devoted to one purpose alone—protecting those I hold dear."

A glint of disdain flickered in his eyes. "Tomorrow, the truth will dawn on you. The Dhārtarāṣṭras will always harbor hatred toward you, and the weight of that knowledge will crush any illusion of control you cling to. And when the name of that brother falls upon your ears, you will grasp the futility of any leash you seek to place upon me."

"In the beginning of our talk, I mentioned that if I ever wished to play games with you, I would ask a question. Tomorrow’s conversation will begin with that question. But why wait? Let me ask you now. Gives you more time to prepare yourself for our next conversation.”

"What time is ever enough to prepare against the force of nature itself?" Bhishma’s thoughts were weighed with sorrow. He clung to a fragile hope—that Vasusena might find a flicker of kindness within him to show mercy. But Bhishma was not deluded as before. Such a reprieve seemed distant, if not impossible.

Vasusena—Radheya—had never shown him kindness, not after the adharma Bhishma had wrought against his brother.

“Are you a senile, incompetent old man, or a malicious, self-righteous old man? Think carefully about your answer.” What kind of a question is this?

Vasusena’s words hung in the air, leaving Bhishma shattered, as if the weight of his age and failures suddenly bore down upon him with unbearable force. Without another glance, Vasusena turned and walked out of the training ground, leaving behind a man crumbling under the weight of truths he could no longer deny.

The servants stumbled upon him, trembling and broken, his sobs echoing through the stone corridors of Hastinapur. They exchanged uneasy glances, unable to comprehend how a mere hour of conversation between Vasusena and the Divine Commander could unravel the formidable Bhishma, the unyielding pillar of their kingdom, into this disheveled wreck. What power did that boy wield to bring down the mightiest of men? 

And what deep-seated enmity could drive Vasusena to relentlessly antagonize and wound Gangadutta, time and time again?

Chapter Text

(Vidura's POV)

Vidura moved through the echoing corridors of Hastinapura with purpose, each footfall feeling as though it were weighed down by more than just his body. The news of Bhimasena's safety that he had just delivered to the Pandavas should have comforted him, yet there was a nagging sensation that something had been... wrong. He couldn't shake it.

When he had been in Yudhishthira's chambers earlier, their reaction had been what one would expect. Nakula and Sahadeva had grasped his hands in silent gratitude, their faces mirroring the relief that had washed over them.

In her overflowing joy, Kunti had attempted to touch his feet, but Vidura had gently stopped her. Usually calm and composed, Yudhishthira hugged him so tightly that Vidura could feel the prince's heart pounding in his chest.

And if there had been a wet patch where Yudhishthira's face had rested against him, Vidura did not draw attention to it. The room had been filled with a sense of peace, the quiet relief of knowing that the second Pandava was alive and safe. A storm had passed, or so it seemed.

But one person did not seem to share their happiness in that moment of peace: Arjuna.

Vidura had noticed the son of Indra, standing apart from the others. His face had been calm, almost serene on the surface, but Vidura hadn't failed to notice the shadows in his eyes. There had been no joy, no release of tension. While everyone else had visibly relaxed, Arjuna's thoughts had been elsewhere, his eyes distant and troubled.

He hadn't celebrated, hadn't smiled. Instead, there had been a heaviness, a weight pressing down on his shoulders that no one else seemed to notice. 'Why?' Vidura had asked himself. 'Why would Arjuna, of all people, appear so troubled by such joyous news?'

The image of Arjuna's face continued to haunt him as he moved through the palace. It lingered in his mind like the distant rumble of thunder before a storm, a warning of something deeper. Something more ominous.

But there was no time to dwell on Arjuna's reaction, not now. Not when a servant had approached him moments earlier, breathless and pale, barely able to form words. "It is Mahaamahim Bhishma.........he has collapsed".

Vidura's heart had lurched in his chest at those words, a sudden rush of fear spreading through him. Bhishma— who had always been the pillar of strength, the immovable force of the Kuru dynasty—had collapsed? The very thought of it seemed impossible, a violation of some cosmic order. And yet, the look in the servant's eyes told him it was true. Bhishma, the unbreakable, had fallen. And, reportedly, the last person to speak with him was Vasusena.

Vidura's pace quickened, his mind a flurry of questions and mounting dread. What had happened? What could Vasusena have said to bring Bhishma to such a state? Vasusena, who had been bold enough to challenge the great patriarch, had stirred unease within the entire court. But to bring Bhishma to his knees? It had been less than an hour since Vidura had left them to their conversation. 'What could that boy have done in such a short time?' Vidura wondered, his heart racing.

When Vidura reached the room where Bhishma sat, the sight that greeted him nearly stopped him in his tracks. Bhishma—the grand figure who had always seemed larger than life—sat slumped and motionless, his armour discarded in a heap beside him like the remnants of a forgotten past. His gaze was fixed on some distant point, staring at nothing, lost in thoughts that seemed.

Vidura's breath caught in his throat. He had never seen his uncle like this—so small, so vulnerable. The sight felt wrong, deeply unsettling. The Protector of Hastinapur was meant to be the unyielding force that held the kingdom together. Yet here he was—broken, his very spirit crushed.

Without hesitation, Vidura knelt beside him, his voice soft but laced with concern. "Pitrivya..." he whispered, reaching out to touch Bhishma's shoulder. His touch was meant to be comforting but Bhishma flinched, recoiling from the contact as if it burned. Vidura reeled back, startled.

And then, something Vidura could never have imagined happened. Bhishma turned—his eyes filled with a desperation that Vidura had never seen before—and pulled him into a tight embrace. It wasn't the strong embrace one would expect from a warrior, but the clutch of a man who had reached his breaking point.

Bhishma, the man who had carried the weight of the Kuru dynasty for centuries, clung to Vidura like a child seeking refuge from a storm. His body trembled violently and Vidura could feel the deep, shuddering breaths that wracked his uncle's frame.

Vidura's heart clenched painfully at the sight but he said nothing. He simply wrapped his arms around the son of Ganga—offering silent comfort to the man who had been their rock for so long. For so many years, Bhishma had been the one to support them all. And now, it was Vidura's turn to offer support.

After what felt like an eternity, Bhishma released him, pulling back with a haunted look still etched on his face. His composure had shattered and his hands trembled as they rested in his lap. When he finally spoke, his voice was hollow, a mere shadow of the man Vidura had always known. "Vasusena..." Bhishma whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. "He told me the first half of the conversation between him and Suyodhana."

The words hung in the air like a death sentence, heavy and suffocating. Vidura could only listen, his mind reeling. Bhishma slumped further, his eyes dull and unfocused as he continued. "He revealed what transpired between Suyodhana, Gandhari, and Dhritarashtra. The conversation that..." Bhishma paused, as if the weight of what he was about to say was too much to bear, "...the conversation that destroyed every last hope I had that my family would remain united."

Vidura's thoughts raced, his mind grasping for answers. This was the conversation—the one they had all heard about, the one Keshava had hinted at. For months, they had tried to piece together what had transpired, what had set Suyodhana on his path of defiance. None of them had dared to pry Gandhari deeply about the conversation, fearing the reopening of old wounds that had yet to heal.

And now, Vasusena has revealed one part of it willingly.

If Vasusena had revealed that conversation without fear, it could only mean one thing: the words spoken were irrefutable and they could not use it against him in the court. Because it was absolute and something they could not fight against.

They had already discussed the possibility of charging Vasusena with treason for driving a wedge between the royal family when they finally managed to learn the contents of the conversation.

But if he had willingly revealed the truth, if he had exposed the words that had torn the family apart, then to charge him with treason would be a dangerous move. For they all knew one thing—crossing Vasusena now, when he was confident, could spell doom for them all. Unless he was leashed it was better to tread carefully.

"What... What did Vasusena say?" Vidura asked tentatively, his voice barely more than a breath, as if he feared the answer would shatter whatever fragile hope lingered between them.

Bhishma's gaze fell, his eyes tracing the ground as though it held the weight of his burden. His face tightened, every word like a bitter poison he was forced to swallow. "He showed me... how Suyodhana twisted the truth—how he used what had been left unsaid as a weapon against us. He filled Dhritarashtra's heart with doubt, poisoned his love for this family with words dipped in venom."

A chill rippled through Vidura's spine. "Twisted the truth?"

Bhishma nodded, the pain etched deep in his expression. "Suyodhana spoke in half-truths—just enough to make it impossible to refute, yet venomous enough to shatter everything we hold dear. There was no malice in his voice, no anger... only the cold, unflinching certainty of someone who knows the devastation they are about to unleash."

Vidura's breath hitched. "And Jyestha...?"

"He believed him," Bhishma whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of the admission. "How could he not? The truth, when wielded as a weapon, is a fire that destroys and consumes everything it touches."

Vidura wanted to speak, to offer comfort, but what words could heal a heart torn apart by the blade of truth? Instead, he rested a hand on Bhishma's shoulder—gentle, but firm, grounding them both in the present, amidst the crumbling remains of their once-strong family.

"We will find a way, Pitrivya," Vidura murmured, though the certainty he tried to project felt hollow even to him. "This is not the end."

Bhishma did not respond. His eyes remained fixed on the ground, his body trembling with the weight of all that had transpired. Vidura stayed by his side, silent but resolute, as the sky darkened, casting long shadows over the broken man before him.

The oppressive silence stretched between them, so thick that Vidura found it hard to breathe. Bhishma's stillness was a suffocating presence, one that had never before existed in the man Vidura had known all his life. The unshakable Bhishma was gone, replaced by this distant, hollow shell.

"We already lost, Vidura. Vasusena..." Bhishma's voice cracked, barely above a whisper, like the low rumble of a distant storm. "He is not a child we can hope to fight. He is not merely a warrior, Vidura. He is something far more... a force of nature, uncontrollable, untamable. It's impossible. Impossible to stand against him."

Vidura flinched, disbelief surging through him. Bhishma—the mighty Bhishma, admitting defeat? His uncle had never yielded before, not even in the face of the most insurmountable of odds. And now he was admitting defeat before the battle had even begun?

"What do you mean?" Vidura's voice trembled, weak against the torrent of Bhishma's despair. "Surely you don't believe—"

"I know it, Vidura," Bhishma cut in, his tone as heavy and certain as the fall of a hammer. "You did not hear his words. You weren't there. Vasusena has already won."

Vidura took a step closer, desperate to pull his uncle back from the brink of despair that threatened to consume him. "We've faced impossible odds before, Pitrivya," he said, grasping for even a glimmer of hope. "You are Bhishma, the unshakable. What is one warrior, even Vasusena, compared to the might of—"

"A storm, Vidura. Vasusena is a storm." Bhishma's words cut through Vidura's attempt at reassurance, his voice distant and hollow. His gaze shifted, though Vidura couldn't see where it landed. It didn't matter. The emptiness radiating from his uncle was all too palpable. "We cannot fight a storm, Vidura. We cannot fight the inevitable. Vasusena... he is not just a man. He is a wrath incarnate. A tsunami in human form. His words..." Bhishma's voice broke, his composure unravelling. "His words tore at me. They ripped apart everything I thought I knew. I should have listened to Kripacharya... I should have swallowed my pride. But now..."

Vidura stared, his heart sinking. Is Bhishma admitting pride? Devavrata, the paragon of duty, acknowledging a mistake?

His uncle's voice fell to a raw whisper, each word dragging him deeper into despair. "Now, it's too late."

"No!" Vidura's voice broke free, loud and fervent, reverberating in the suffocating air. "It's not too late, Pitrivya! We still have time. You are—"

"Vidura." Bhishma's tone softened, but it carried the weight of finality, the crushing force of inevitability. "You do not understand. I have already lost. Vasusena's words were not threats. They were truths—poisonous truths that had already torn this family apart. Dhritarashtra's faith, the Gandharinandhanas' love, and the very threads that held our family together are unravelling. Even now."

Bhishma exhaled—a slow, measured breath that seemed to draw all the light from the world around them. "There is nothing left."

Vidura felt the cold settle into his bones, into his soul. The despair radiating from his uncle was unlike anything he had ever felt before. The storm had already taken root in Bhishma's heart, and its winds were pulling them all into its vortex.

Yet before Vidura could summon a reply, Bhishma straightened, though only slightly, as if even that effort required more than he had left to give.

"Kripacharya will return tomorrow," Bhishma said, his voice quiet, deliberate. "Then I will tell you everything. I will recount the entire conversation between myself and Vasusena. But for now..." He paused, his voice dropping to a ghost of a whisper. "For now, know this: Vasusena cannot be stopped. Not by me. Not by you. Not by anyone."

With that, Bhishma turned away, his heavy steps fading into the thick, stifling silence that wrapped itself around Vidura. The weight of his uncle's words settled over him like a storm cloud, the pressure building, unrelenting, and it threatened to crush him entirely.

Vidura's thoughts raced in a wild swirl, each one slipping through his grasp as he tried to make sense of Bhishma's devastating words. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, every beat louder than the last when the faintest rustle from behind broke through his haze. He spun around, body tensed, his pulse quickening with a sense of unease.

There, standing in the shadows, was Arjuna—silent as a shadow, his gaze fixed on him with an intensity that cut through the darkness. The almost imperceptible noise had been the child's deliberately heavy footfalls towards Vidura—meant to stop him in his tracks.

"Arjuna?" Vidura's whisper was laced with shock, his voice almost failing him. "What are you doing here?"

Arjuna stepped forward, the faint light illuminating his young, sharp features. But there was something off—something in the way his brows knit together, the confusion etched deeply in his eyes. "I came here because I have some doubts," he said softly, the uncertainty in his voice only making the tension in Vidura's chest tighten further. "But... Why is Grandfather like this? How did you know about Bhimasena?"

Vidura stilled. His heart dropped into a pit at Arjuna's question. There was a desperation in Arjuna's tone—a tremor that barely concealed the storm that seemed to be brewing within him.

"Bhima should still be struggling in the Ganga's waters if what you are saying is true, Kakashree. Nagaloka is almost a day and a half journey from where Bhima drowned," Arjuna pressed, his voice growing sharper, more strained. The tremble was louder now. "How could he be in Nagaloka? And even if he reached there quickly, how do any of you know?"

Vidura swallowed hard. The knowledge about Vasusena was a closely guarded secret among themselves. None of the servants or even their trusted confidants had any knowledge about the power of that deplorable suta.

"Unless you know the future, what you have said is a lie." The boy spoke in an agitated tone. "Either you know the future or you are lying to us to placate us."

Arjuna had already begun to piece together parts of the puzzle. There was no escaping what needed to be said.

"It was Vasusena," Vidura said, each word a heavy stone falling into the pit of silence between them. "He's the one who told us of Bhimasena's fate."

Arjuna blinked, his confusion only deepening, his brows furrowing in disbelief. "Vasusena? How could that suta know that?"

Vidura drew in a deep, steadying breath, feeling the weight of the next revelation pressing heavily on his shoulders. "The current incarnation of Vishwadhipathi came to us," he said slowly, each word deliberate, as if the truth could be softened by the carefulness with which he spoke.

He watched as Arjuna's eyes widened, shock flaring across his features like lightning. "He revealed that Vasusena performed an intense penance... that Lord Shiva blessed him with the ability to see paths that men could take in the future."

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The words hung in the air between them like a blade poised to strike, and Vidura could feel the shift in the atmosphere—how the weight of his confession pressed down on both of them.

Then Arjuna's lips parted, a small smile creeping over his face—a smile that didn't belong in the heavy stillness of this conversation. It was a smile born of something else entirely. And when he spoke, his voice was barely louder than a whisper, yet it carried the force of a hurricane.

"Krishna came here?"

Vidura's heart skipped a beat, a cold dread spreading through him. He hadn't mentioned the name of the Vishnu Avatar. None except the people present in the room of Gandhari on that day knew the name of the current Vishnu Avatar. And yet, Arjuna spoke it with a certainty that made Vidura's breath catch in his throat. And the way the middle Pandava spoke showed familiarity between the boys. But, as far as he knew, the two had never met.

Before Vidura could react, before he could process how Arjuna knew, the younger prince's expression shifted— the joy he had at the mention of Krishna, was quickly turned into something sharp and vicious. A deep, burning wrath took hold of his features as the rest of Vidura's words sank in.

Arjuna's smile had vanished. His confusion was gone, replaced with something far more dangerous. The direction Partha was looking at was the direction of Vasusena's house. And he stared in that direction with hatred and deep loathing.

It was then, as if struck by the lightning Vidura finally understood:

Arjuna wasn't just lost in confusion.

Just like Vasusena, he too knew the future.

—----------------------------------------------

(Gandhari's POV)

Gandhari sat in the familiar stillness of her chamber, the darkness behind her eyes offering no comfort as her senses focused entirely on the presence of her son. She couldn't see him, but the weight of his silence filled the air, thick and suffocating. Every breath he took carried the strain of unspoken emotions, and the longer he remained wordless, the more it unnerved her. His silence was a storm waiting to break.

When Suyodhana finally spoke, his voice was low, ferocious with restrained fury. "Mother, because of Vasusena's words, I promised that I would always listen to you. But now you say to disregard everything he says. So, should I take back my promise?"

There was something dangerous, almost venomous, in the tone he used. Gandhari waited, her heart tightening, sensing that her son was standing on the precipice of something she feared.

"And I ask you now..." His voice was trembling with a darker edge. "If you wish for me to stop listening to him, then I will. But know this: If I stop listening to Vasusena, I will stop listening to you as well."

The silence that followed wasn't a hesitation; it was a threat, a decision already made. The weight of it hung in the air, oppressive and inescapable.

Gandhari took a slow, measured breath, her heart pounding. Though blind, she could sense the fracture between them—her son, who had been loyal to her beyond reason, now teetering on the brink of something dark and bitter. Her fingers tightened into fists in her lap, nails digging into her palms.

"You speak of Vasusena," she began, her voice quiet yet cold. "You ask why I wish for you to stop trusting him—because it was I who told you to trust him, wasn't it?"

There was no denying that, and yet her heart twisted with a bitterness she hadn't allowed herself to feel. "Because he too worships Mahadev, just as we do. I trusted him. I believed in his loyalty, Suyodhana." Her voice faltered momentarily before the coldness returned. "But that trust... he shattered it, and he will break it again."

Her words carried a chill she had rarely shown to her son, but she had to make him understand.

"Vasusena is a murderer," Gandhari's voice tightened, cutting through the heavy air.

Suyodhana's breath caught, and when he finally spoke, his voice was sharp with disbelief. "A murderer? Amma..." He dragged the word with sarcasm. "Vasusena is a soldier. All soldiers have blood on their hands. We fight, we kill—it's the way of the world."

"Soldiers are killers," Gandhari interrupted, her tone hardening with conviction. "But Vasusena... he murdered someone in cold blood. Not in battle, not for war. He did it because that person would cause trouble for someone he loved in the future."

For a moment, Suyodhana was silent, his mind processing her words. Then his voice grew quieter, more measured. "Vasusena killed someone because they would cause his loved one trouble in the future?" His words were slow, deliberate, as if testing the weight of them. "Does that mean my friend knows the future amma?"

The air grew heavy as Gandhari remained silent. She was not supposed to reveal that fact to her son. But the cat was out of the bag, and she could do nothing but nod in assent.

"You said Vasusena killed a person because in the future the said person was the reason for the death of the person he loved?" Suyodhana exhaled sharply, and it seemed he collapsed into a chair.

"Yes." She replied bitterly.

"The person Vasusena killed... it was my uncle, Gandharraj Shakuni, wasn't it?"

Gandhari's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't asking. He was stating it as fact. Her son, her beloved Suyodhana, had figured it out on his own.

How? How had he known? Vasusena wouldn't have told him. The boy was not that foolish. None of the others in the know could have told Suyodhana. Her son loathed them. She had not told him. So how?

Before she could answer, Suyodhana spoke again, his voice cold and devoid of emotion. "No need to tell me, amma... Your silence answers more than your words ever could."

For several moments, the only sound in the room was Suyodhana's harsh breathing. Gandhari braced herself for his rage, for the explosion of anger she knew would follow, but instead, something far worse happened.

Laughter.

It was a twisted, broken laugh, echoing through the chamber like the sound of someone unravelling. It wasn't anger—it was a dark realization. The sound cut through Gandhari's chest, twisting painfully as she listened.

Suyodhana chuckled, his voice hollow. "Of course. Of course, it was him. My most trusted friend, the one I held above all others, was the one who killed my uncle. How fitting."

His voice was laced with irony, filled with odd joy as he turned towards the Shiva Linga in her room. "I prayed to you Maheshwara..." He was speaking to the deity now, and she could hear the agony and joy mixed in his tone. "I wished that in my next life Vasusena and I should be brothers. Have you fulfilled my wish in this life itself, Parameshwara?"

Gandhari's breath hitched at his words. Her son's mind—was unraveling before her eyes. Was he losing his sanity?

Suyodhana walked out onto the terrace, his voice turning venomous, colder than ice. "All this time, I thought it was Krishna." He spat the name with such hatred that Gandhari felt a shiver run down her spine. "I thought that damned cowherd had interfered, that he had killed Shakuni to push me towards dharma."

His voice cracked, derangement creeping into his words. "But no. Of course not. Krishna would never help me. He's never cared about me. He's always hated me. Always." His words dripped with poisonous hatred.

"Do not speak of Krishna that way!" Gandhari snapped, her voice sharp and cutting. "You don't know who—"

"Krishna is the current incarnation of Vishwadhipathi." Suyodhana interrupted coldly, his voice like a knife. "I'm not the person who doesn't understand the situation I'm in amma. You are the one who doesn't have the slightest idea of what is happening."

And in that moment, a horrifying realization dawned on her. 'Just like Vasusena... Suyodhana knows the future too.'

Her heart stilled. This was the first time in years that her son had spoken to her with such venom. His voice, his words—it was as though all his love, all his devotion, had curdled into something dark. Her mind flashed back to Adhirathi's words, words she had tried to forget after Krishna came to reveal the murderer of her brother.

"I used this power for the second time on your eldest child, Devi Gandhari. The future of your child has so many possibilities. In most of the futures, he and his brothers are killed just by a single person. Prince Bhimasena.

But the root cause always traces back to the elders of Hastinapur. I saw the love your child has towards the elders grow twisted due to jealousy, and despite the fact that mistakes were made on both sides... the current Narayana Avatar has branded your son as an adharmi and has all your children and your grandchildren killed in a war that occurred for 18 days. Prince Suyodhana lost everything in his life before dying brutally in the hands of Prince Bhimasena."

Suyodhana knew. He knew his fate. He had seen it. He had seen everything.

If Vasusena is not lying, and if her child had seen such a future... The disrespect he had for his elders, the loathing he had for Krishna—all of it makes sense. He knew, even without her telling him, that Shakuni was the reason for the death of Vasusena's beloved brother, and for that reason, he killed her brother.

But how had her son turned against them all? Had he no love left, no loyalty? Bhishma, Vidura and even herself she could understand. She to her shame had succumbed to the words of her elders and started to hate him.

But Shakuni loved Suyodhana with all his heart. He loved him so much that every moment he was not in her presence he stayed with her son trying to make the ascension of Suyodhana as ironclad as possible. And yet Suyodhana is still supporting the bastard who killed him.

"But it wasn't Krishna who killed my uncle, was it?" His voice dropped to a whisper, as though the truth was finally settling in. "It was Karna."

He paused, the room so silent it felt as though the air itself was holding its breath.

"All this time..." Suyodhana's voice cracked. "All this time I thought I was dealing with Vasusena. How blind am I not to recognize the friend I loved the most in my life even when he is before my eyes."

Another joyful yet bitter laugh escaped him, his voice laced with deranged clarity. "What a fool I am. All this time... I wasn't dealing with Vasusena. I was dealing with Karna."

"My child..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "Did Parameshwara bless you with a vision of the future too?"

—------------------------------------

(Arjuna's POV)

"My child..." Kakashree whispered, his voice trembling. "Did Parameshwara bless you with a vision of the future too?"

All this time, they had not been dealing with Vasusena... they had been facing Karna.

It was a strange world he had found himself thrust into. A world so distant from the one he knew, so unfamiliar, that at times he questioned if it was all just a vivid, disorienting dream.

A world where Gandhararaja is no longer among the living, where Duryodhana is reasonable, and where the Suta, once a stubborn iconoclast, is now bent on societal norms, following his father's path to become a charioteer. In the beginning, it felt like heaven—a paradise that grew even sweeter when Duryodhana declared he had no desire for the throne.

But then, the troubles began.

A great blow struck this family. After the coronation of his brother, Yudhistira as the Crown Prince, Queen Gandhari and King Dhritarashtra severed the ties with their family—a devastating strike that left them reeling.

Arjuna understood the reasons behind their actions, but it did little to dull the sting of their loss. The sorrow clung to them, but as they returned from the ashram to the palace, his mother stated that Queen Gandhari let them back into her chambers. She didn't say how it happened but it did bring him solace.

The Dhārtarāṣṭras, under the command of their eldest brother, mostly kept their distance from them. His brother Bhimasena, however, had managed to piss off all of their cousins due to his actions.

Even when all the princes were sent to the same Gurukul, the divide remained. It was there, amidst the teachings of weapons and warfare, that they began to learn the art of psychological warfare—warfare that would soon tear open old wounds.

Against Suyodhana's strict orders, Susashana let his tongue run wild, hurling insults at their mother, Kunti, mocking her for bearing sons from different gods. Suyodhana, oddly being the peacemaker in this world, rebuked his brother for his disrespect.

But Susashana refused to take back his words. What followed was inevitable—an eruption of wrath. Bhimasena, blinded by rage, snapped Susashana's arm in a single, swift strike.

Predictably, Suyodhana's own fury ignited. The cousins clashed like a snake and a mongoose, locked in a brutal struggle. Suyodhana, with his superior skill, deftly used Bhima's anger against him, seizing the moment and throwing him into the river.

Panic seized Arjuna's heart as he watched Bhimasena being swept away by the merciless currents of Jahnavi. The sight of his brother lost in the churning waves, struck fear deep within him. But just as swiftly, he forced himself to regain composure. This wasn't the first time—no, in his previous life, his brother had been poisoned by Suyodhana and driven by jealousy was thrown into the river the same way.

Yet by the grace of the gods, Bhimasena had found his way to Nagaloka, where he would drink the Naga Amrita and return, empowered with the strength of ten thousand elephants.

The memory of that divine intervention steadied his breath. Arjuna let the panic subside, watching carefully as the scene around him unfolded. His heart still raced, but his mind grew calm, just in time to hear Guru Drona's voice cutting through the tension like a blade. 

Guru Drona's furious reprimands echoed through the training grounds, his wrath aimed at Suyodhana. And with a name that would seal his fate, the guru, in that moment of judgment, christened him Duryodhana.

Arjuna's eyes narrowed as he noticed the coldness in Suyodhana's gaze. The silent defiance, the disrespect simmering just beneath the surface, aimed at their Guru. It gave him the flashbacks of a cold, stubborn and disrespectful man who hated dharma.

It was Bhimasena who struck first, yes, but only after being provoked by a fool's reckless words. Suyodhana had attempted to stop the confrontation, that was clear. Yet the way he looked at Guru Drona now, filled with such quiet disdain, was wrong.

Guru Drona had not heard the full story, perhaps, but he was still their teacher. For Suyodhana to harbour such contempt, to direct that look of disgust at a teacher—it disturbed Arjuna deeply.

Because before the incident with Ekalavya, Suyodhana had always respected Guru Drona. That dark moment—where his teacher's character was forever stained—would not come to pass in this life. Arjuna would make sure of it.

But this Suyodhana, though not outwardly hostile towards them, harbored a different poison in this lifetime. The hatred he once held for the Pandavas seemed to have found a new target—the elders. There was a bitterness in him that was different from before, more corrosive. And that pride, that arrogance, it was even sharper than what Arjuna once knew.

Every insult, every slight, Suyodhana took to heart, feeding the venom within. Arjuna couldn't help but worry what path this would lead his cousin down.

Arjuna often found himself wondering what had changed in this life and who or what was responsible for these shifts. There were good moments undeniably—moments where things seemed brighter, better. But for every flicker of hope, there was a shadow cast by something far darker.

The peace among the cousins, the harmony he and his brothers had once dreamed of, seemed within reach....yet Suyodhana's growing bitterness soured it all. It was as though the balance had tilted in a strange, unpredictable way.

So when his Kakashree came to deliver the news—that Bhimasena was in Nagaloka and would be brought back by their great-grandfather in seven to ten days—Arjuna's heart skipped a beat.

Yes in his previous life, events had unfolded just as Kakashree described. Bhima had indeed gone to Nagaloka, but something was off. The timing was wrong. Even accounting for the strong currents that may have hastened his brother's journey, Bhimasena should have been battling the Naga guards outside the kingdom by now. Yet, Kakashree had spoken with an eerie certainty, as if he was told about the future.

But if one of the elders—whether it be Pitamah Bhishma, King Dhritarashtra, Queen Gandhari, or even Kakashree Vidura—had foreseen the future, the course of their lives would be different.

His uncle, the King, would hate them for killing their cousins, even if it was in accordance with dharma and would deny them entry into the Kingdom. 

Queen Gandhari would have done everything in her power to prevent the growing rift between the cousins. 

Pitamah and Kakashree would have made sure that the cousins stayed united, even if it meant taking drastic steps—perhaps even killing Suyodhana if it came to that.

Yet, it was none of them. The person who told Kakashree about the future was someone outside their family and it made Arjuna's frustration grow with every passing moment. What was happening in this world, where things looked familiar but felt utterly wrong?

Today, after nearly a year and a half in this strange reality, Arjuna would finally get a clue—a hint at who, or what, was behind all these changes.

And when Kakashree told him the person who had the knowledge of the future... all hell broke loose inside him.

Arjuna's mind spiraled, each memory of Vasusena—no, Karna—burning brighter, turning into vivid recollections of the terrible adharma he committed. His thoughts raced through every wrong, every injustice, every unforgivable sin.

That man—Karna who stood beside Duryodhana and watched... no, encouraged Draupadi's humiliation. The same Karna who, with bitter words, called for her disrobing, stripping away not only her dignity but the honor of their entire family. Arjuna's hands curled into fists, his knuckles white as rage rolled inside him.

The memory of Abhimanyu's death struck next—a brutal blow to his heart. Karna may not have dealt the killing strike, but his role in trapping Arjuna's beloved son within the Chakravyuha, sealing his fate to die surrounded by cowards, was no less unforgivable. The image of Abhimanyu, a mere boy, standing alone against the might of seasoned warriors, crushed under their weapons, made Arjuna's chest ache with an unbearable weight. Karna was a part of that betrayal.

Then came the thought of Ghatotkacha's demise—his nephew, killed by Karna using the divine weapon Shakti. A weapon that could have been reserved for someone stronger, perhaps even Arjuna himself, but instead was used to strike down Ghatotkacha. For Arjuna, this was yet another sin that added to Karna's growing tally of unforgivable acts.

And Karna's pride—his constant boasting of superiority, challenging Arjuna at every turn, feeding the flames of rivalry that had cost countless lives. Karna had stood against them, against dharma itself, supporting Duryodhana's tyranny with unwavering loyalty, knowing full well that the cause he fought for was unrighteous.

Every crime, every act of arrogance, every betrayal of dharma. Arjuna could feel the heat of his fury building, threatening to consume him whole. Karna, that wretched soul... he had stood against them, against everything righteous, and Arjuna could see no end to his sins.

But before he could fall into the abyss of his own rage, a grounding presence—a gentle hand—settled on his shoulder. It was Vidura, standing beside him, his touch firm but comforting. Arjuna turned to face his uncle, expecting to see concern, but instead, Vidura's eyes were filled with something unexpected: joy, a deep, palpable joy that seemed almost out of place in this moment of fury and revelation. It was as if something long awaited, something they hoped for and prayed for came true.

Vidura's presence, his silent strength, pulled Arjuna back from the brink. With monumental effort, Arjuna forced himself to breathe, to rein in the storm of anger raging within. His body trembled, his heart boiling with fury, but he knew he had to focus. There would be a time for reckoning, but for now, he had to remain composed. He couldn't lose himself in this fire.

"Kakashree..." He started with a soft voice that was barely able to hide the turmoil bubbling inside him. "The day when all of you met Keshava... Tell me what happened on that day?"

"Krishna arrived nine months ago," Vidura began, his voice low but steady. "Kakashree Kripa and I were summoned to your mother's quarters by Kakashree Devavrata. It was there, in her chambers, that we saw Krishna for the first time. We were told that Krishna would be the one to gain us entry into the room of Devi Gandhari."

"Madhava can do anything," Arjuna replied, his tone softening with warmth at the mention of his dear friend. "But how did he manage to convince Mata Gandhari to allow all of you into her room?" He asked curiously.

"He never needed to do anything," Vidura continued, his breath coming out in a slow, deliberate exhale. "Krishna simply gave the door guard his name and said that Queen Gandhari would grant him entry. He also mentioned that he wouldn't step into the room unless we all were allowed in."

Vidura's eyes clouded for a moment, recalling the scene. "The guard looked at Krishna as if he had lost his mind—and we too had similar thoughts. At that time, none of us had the knowledge of his divinity.

"And yet," Vidura sighed, his voice tinged with disbelief, "to our utter surprise, she allowed all of us in. We followed Krishna like a herd of sheep—dumbfounded, unable to grasp what was unfolding before us."

Arjuna's brow furrowed, a growing unease settling in him. "Mata Gandhari just allowed you all in?" he asked, still grappling with the idea, his tone heavy with disbelief.

"Yes." Vidura nodded solemnly. "The very first thing Gandhari did was fall at Krishna's feet, seeking his blessings. At that moment, she proclaimed him the current incarnation of Vishwadipathi."

"Yes," Vidura finished, his voice steady. "That's when we understood who we had in our midst. And why Krishna was so confident. After all, no one turns away Vishwadipathi from their home."

"How did she know, Kakashree?" Arjuna asked in a soft tone. "The fact that Krishna was the avatar of Vishnu was unknown to the entire world till the very end."

"Vasusena informed her, it seems, Arjuna." That explains it.

Kakashree then told the apologies given to Mata Gandhari by Pitamah and himself. He stated even if they could see the anguish... she did not accept their apologies.

Arjuna's expression darkened, imagining the silent poison Suyodhana and Vasusena pumped into her heart for her to turn her face away from her relatives.

"Pitamah, in his helplessness, had turned toward Krishna," Vidura's voice grew quieter as he recounted, "and it was only then that Krishna had intervened. He asked her, 'What do you know of Vasusena?'"

Arjuna's brow furrowed as Vidura continued. "Jiji told Krishna that Vasusena had undertaken a severe tapasya to gain the favor of Shiva. She explained to all of us that Parvathi and Parameshwara took him as their disciple and taught him everything they knew. She also mentioned that Shiva granted him the power to look into all possibilities..."

The chill of those words spread through Arjuna's veins. Shiva had bestowed upon Vasusena the aspect of time? The Kalabhairava aspect? Why had Parameshwara shown such favour to an adharmi, granting such a powerful boon to someone undeserving?

"Krishna responded," Vidura continued, "that it wasn't the only tapasya Vasusena had undertaken. He revealed that we all needed to understand the depths of the suta's life, the very thing that drove him to become the person he is today."

Vidura's voice grew heavy with the weight of what followed. "Krishna then showed us the death of Vasusena's brother, Swarnajeet. And we learned that it was at that very moment that Vasusena first gained knowledge of the future. Seven years ago, he learnt what was to come."

Arjuna's thoughts spiraled as he processed the enormity of it. Vasusena—Karna—had known the future for years, and he had been altering it, manipulating fate for his own advantage. For seven years, he had been left unchecked, shaping the future to suit his purposes.

"And then we were shown how that boy," Vidura's voice trembled as he recalled the memory, "peeled off his natural armor... just to gain Brahmastra for an hour."

Arjuna blinked spastically.

"That hardly seems like a fair trade, Kakashree," the son of Indra interrupted, his voice sharp with disbelief. "That armor was imbibed with amrita— as long as he had it, Vasusena could not be killed. Even Sudarshana Chakra would not harm him out of respect for Surya Dev. To trade such a thing for a single..." Arjuna swallowed.

"So Bajrangbali granted him Brahmastra for half an hour. And what did he do with it?"

Vidura's voice turned heavy. "The boy used the Brahmastra to kill Gandhari-jiji's brother."

For a moment, time seemed to collapse in on itself for Arjuna. His mind was a blur, and the world around him felt muted, as though a fog had descended over his thoughts. A ringing sound drowned out all else, his Kakashree's voice barely audible as he tried to pull Arjuna back to reality, urging him to listen.

Shakuni Mamashree... killed by Vasusena? The thought clawed at his sanity, refusing to settle. He could barely comprehend it.

How was this possible? Mamashree Shakuni—the mastermind, the manipulator of destinies, the architect of the Kurukshetra War—slain at the hands of Karna? The very idea was unimaginable. He had always assumed it would be Krishna or someone on the side of dharma who would see Shakuni's end, not Vasusena.

Shakuni and Karna— they were the twin pillars that upheld Suyodhana's reign. If Vasusena was Suyodhana's strength, then Shakuni was his mind. The two of them together were what gave Suyodhana his power. Vasusena had never seemed like the type to betray his ally, his closest friend.

But if he had done this... it could only mean one thing. Vasusena, like a snake shedding its skin, was trying to follow a new path—trying to embrace dharma.

Yet... Arjuna thought, his heart sinking as realization dawned, just like a snake, he can never truly change his nature. Vasusena may have turned his poison away from the Pandavas, but he had also turned Suyodhana against the elders who loved him.

Villainy wears many masks, none so dangerous as the mask of virtue.

This Vasusena was convinced that what he was doing was just, and that made him a thousand times more menacing than ever before.

Now, it all began to make sense. Arjuna could see why Kakashree was so relieved to know that he knew the future. Vasusena—no, Karna—was manipulating everyone around him with terrifying precision. He knew so much about Pitamah, Kakashree, and the entire court.

Knowing his hated enemy, Arjuna could say without a doubt that Karna was playing with them, toying with their emotions and strategies like a cat with a mouse caught in its paw. The youngest son of Kunti could only imagine the chaos Karna must be causing among the elders, the frustration and helplessness they must be feeling.

Once he came back to his senses, he just asked a single question: "Did Krishna state that because Gandharraj was the reason for the death of his loved ones, Vasusena killed him?"

Kakashree looked momentarily startled by the question, but he nodded slowly in confirmation. Arjuna dragged a weary hand over his face, feeling the weight of this new understanding sink into his bones.

"Well, if we play our cards right, Kakashree... we could get Vasusena on our side," Arjuna spoke reluctantly as if the thought itself was a bitter pill to swallow.

Vidura blinked in surprise, clearly taken aback by the statement. Arjuna's voice was tinged with reluctance, the words coming out heavy and hard. "Both Vasusena and I... we loathe each other. But if he was the one who killed Shakuni... it means he's trying to walk on the path of dharma."

As much as Arjuna despised the thought, it was becoming increasingly clear that Karna—Vasusena—was no longer the man he had once been. If he was willing to strike down someone as crucial to Suyodhana as Shakuni, then perhaps... Perhaps he could be turned. Perhaps they could find common ground in their pursuit of dharma.

But even as he considered the possibility, a part of Arjuna remained wary. This Vasusena, dangerous as he was, could not be trusted so easily. His newfound righteousness could be just another mask, another layer of manipulation.

"You're saying Vasusena was justified in killing Shakuni?" Vidura's voice shook with disbelief. "And how on earth do you wish to turn that poisonous suta towards us, Arjuna? Vasusena doesn't just hate us—he loathes us with every breath, with his body, mind, and soul."

Arjuna's gaze was steady as he met his Kakashree's eyes, his expression marked by a strange, exhausted calm. "I don't think Madhava told you the name of the one Vasusena loved, did he?" The question was soft, but the weight of it fell between them like a boulder, crushing the air from the room.

Vidura froze, confusion evident in his features. "Krishna said it was Vasusena's brother, Arjuna," he murmured

"A good friend is greater than a brother, Kakashree." Arjuna's laugh was hollow, devoid of mirth. "The name of the brother Vasusena loved so much he would lay down his life—it's Suyodhana."

Vidura's usually composed face shattered into shock, and his legs gave out, sending him to the ground. His face turned ashen, his voice faltering. "Which Suyodhana, Arjuna?" Arjuna could see in his uncle's eyes that hoping against hope that it was not their Suyodhana. Because if it is their Suyodhana... then Mata Gandhari will forgive that suta and all the work they have put in to sever the connection between the suta and the queen will go down the drain.

"Our Suyodhana, Kakashree." Arjuna's words were sharp, each one cutting deeper. "The name of the person Vasusena would follow into the depths of hell is our Suyodhana, Kakashree."

Vidura's breath escaped him, and he could barely muster a response. "By the gods," he finally whispered, his voice laced with fear.

"Suyodhana Dhārtarāṣṭra Kuruvanshi."

—-------------------------------------

(Kripacharya's POV)

Suyodhana Dhārtarāṣṭra Kuruvanshi.

The name echoed relentlessly in Kripa's mind, ever since it had fallen from the lips of Chiranjeevi. From the moment he departed from Mahendragiri to his return to Hastinapura, the name lingered, ringing in his ears, a shadow of dread following him throughout the journey.

His purpose had been clear—he sought out Guru Parashurama to discover a way to rein in Suryaputra before Vasusena's wrath brought Hastinapura to ruin. Upon reaching the sacred mountain, he presented himself to Gurudev Parashurama, paying his respects to the great sage as tradition demanded. But the question that weighed heavily on his heart could not be held back for long.

"Why does Vasusena persist on the path of adharma, despite knowing the future, Gurudev?" Kripa's voice held both frustration and exhaustion.

Gurudev Parashurama's gaze remained as unshakable as a mountain, his expression unreadable. "To protect both dharma and adharma, Vasusena walks alone on this path, Sharadvanputra," came the sage's measured, calm reply, each word laced with deliberate weight.

Kripa stifled a groan of irritation, his mind swirling with frustration. Well... That explains nothing. Why must sages always speak in riddles?

"To protect both dharma and adharma, Gurudev?" he echoed, his tone now tinged with disbelief. "Committing adharma to safeguard dharma might make sense for anyone else, but not for Vasusena, Gurudev. The boy... he knows the future."

He paused, shaking his head in irritation thinking of the actions of Adhirathi. "No, that's an understatement. The boy knows thousands upon thousands of futures. He should have known better than to follow the path of adharma, Gurudev. And doing adharma to protect dharma..."

Kripa hesitated, swallowing hard. 'It's madness... foolishness.' He wished to say. But he could not dare say such a thing to the sixth incarnation of Vishnu.

"Dharma does not need adharma to protect it, Gurudeva."

The sage's smile was tinged with both sadness and amusement as he met Kripa's eyes. "Go to my Vasusena. He will explain it to you better than anyone else could ever hope to. In fact, he's waiting for you in Hastinapur."

Kripa's heart froze at those words. Vasusena knew the reason behind this journey. He then bashed his head irritably. Of course, he did.

That blasted boy will always know. Adityanandhana because of his boon could predict every move and anticipate every step long before the thought had even crossed a person's mind. Kripa had deliberately taken the longest route to Mahendragiri, stopping at every holy site along the way, hoping the boy would think it was a mere pilgrimage.

"It's very difficult to deceive my Vasusena in this life, Kripa" Bhargava's voice held a trace of mirth. "Now, ask your questions clearly, and I will answer them."

Kripa swallowed, his voice soft as he asked, "What compels Vasusena to remain on the path of adharma, Gurudeva? You said he walks it to protect both dharma and adharma. But for him knowingly to walk in this path... he needs something to keep him going forward. What drives the boy? What drives him to continue to be a natural calamity that was loathed by everyone around him?"

Rainukeya's smile was calm, yet enigmatic. "My other avatar has already given you the answer, Kripa."Kripa was confused by those words. "Think carefully—how?"

Kripa's mind flashed back to the words Krishna had spoken to Gandhari.

"Because of your brother's actions, Vasusena will lose the person he loves most in this world. He will lose his entire family due to the schemes of Gandharraj Shakuni.

Vasusena loved one person above all else. In his own words, there are very few sins he wouldn't commit for the happiness of that brother."

Kripa's breath caught, a chill creeping down his spine as the weight of it settled into him. Vasusena's devotion, all-consuming and unwavering, made the implications all the more horrifying.

The leash that binds Vasusena... is his brother? By the gods. It was for the love of his adharmic brother that Vasusena walked this path, a path of loathing and isolation.

Who is this person that, despite being an adharmi, could invoke such unwavering love in Aditya Nandhana? What brother of his could bring the son of the light-bringer to his knees, earn his undying devotion, and be the one from whom Vasusena would draw the strength to battle the entire world? Who is the person for whom Radheya would willingly descend into hell?

Kripa, shaken by this revelation, asked Karttaviryari the question that gnawed at him. The answer shattered everything he thought he knew about Vasusena.

"Suyodhana." The Chiranjeevi's voice was soft, yet its weight was undeniable. Odd... Because of their ongoing war with Vasusena (which he would have enjoyed if it wasn't so frustrating), Kripa learnt all the names of Adhiratha's children and he knew none shared their name with the eldest son of Dhritarashtra.

"It seems you need to know the child's full name, Kripa," Guru Parashurama interjected in a mirthful tone.

"Suyodhana Dhārtarāṣṭra Kuruvanshi."

Kripa's heart stopped for a few moments in his chest.

The one for whom Vasusena would forsake everything, to walk the path of adharma, was none other than their  Suyodhana ? But one thing he didn't understand. Why is he poisoning the heart of Suyodhana against Putra Vidura and Jyesta Devavrata?

If he was poisoning Suyodhana against his elders... Was he doing something wrong? Did Vasusena see something in the future in which he, Jyestha and Vidura would cause destruction to Suyodhana? 'Narayana give me strength to face all these obstacles...' he prayed.

—---------------------------------------

(Bhishma's POV)

The one for whom Vasusena would forsake everything, even walk the path of adharma, was none other than their Suyodhana? But then why was he poisoning the heart of Suyodhana against Putra Vidura and himself?

Bhishma's pulse quickened, the revelation sending shockwaves through his mind. The words of Adhirathi from yesterday echoed relentlessly in his mind.

Any other man who tries to wield that knowledge against me will die. For he is both my strength and my weakness. But you... you or anyone in Hastinapur could never hope to wield it against me.

And when the name of the brother I loved falls upon your ears, you will grasp the futility of any leash you seek to place upon me.

Bhishma's breath caught. The realization settled deep within his chest. No wonder Vasusena stood so unshakable, so certain that no leash could bind him. It was not mere arrogance—it was the truth. To fight Vasusena, with his unwavering loyalty to Suyodhana, meant they were fighting Suyodhana himself.

Bhishma's thoughts darkened, realizing the implications. Suyodhana may be a kul nashak according to his horoscope, a destroyer of the Kuru lineage, but he was still a child of the Kuru Vansh. Still the child of the reigning king. In a roundabout way, to antagonize the suta unnecessarily was to challenge the very sovereignty of Hastinapura, to wage war against the king's will itself.

But Vasusena... by Kripa's account, who gained his knowledge from Guru Parashurama, loved Suyodhana deeply. And even Krishna himself had stated that Vasusena would willingly walk into hell for him. So instead of putting him on the path of dharma, the suta made it so that none of the Dhārtarāṣṭras would listen to the words of their elders.

"Why is that bloody suta leading Suyodhana down the path of adharma?" Bhishma's heart tightened. The blasted boy had poisoned Suyodhana's mind so thoroughly that he no longer even heeded the counsel of those who loved him. The elders, those who had only sought to guide him—were now cast aside, thanks to Vasusena's influence. What was Vasusena's true game? What did he stand to gain from dragging Dhritarashtra's son into darkness?

When Bhishma shared his troubled thoughts with Vidura, his nephew remained calm, as if he had known all along. That was when Vidura revealed something Bhishma had never expected—Arjuna too had been blessed by Parameshwara with the knowledge of the future.

The revelation struck Bhishma like a wave of divine mercy. After all their struggles, all the turmoil and chaos, it seemed that Parameshwara had finally shown them grace. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, relief flooded his weary heart. At last...

They now had a counter, a means to stand against the Suryaputra on equal footing. All this time, the suta had run circles around them, exploiting their blindness, moving with an ease that came from knowing every path before it was even taken. They had no counter against him—no one who could match Vasusena's cursed foresight.

But now... now they had Arjuna. Arjuna, who could see the future as Vasusena did, could finally be the one to counter Suryaputra's relentless games.

With joy swelling in his chest, Bhishma eagerly dispatched a guard to summon Arjuna from his quarters. It felt as though a parched traveler had stumbled upon an oasis in a desert, just when death seemed imminent. Arjuna's gift—his divine knowledge—had arrived at the precise moment they needed it most.

Finally, after all this time, they had hope. Finally, they had a way to stand against Vasusena. Now they need a game plan to fight Vaikartana.

Before Arjuna could enter the room, Kripa's voice broke through the tension, hesitantly asking, "Jyestha... do we really need to confront Radheya? What if Vasusena isn't poisoning Suyodhana's heart out of hatred for us? What if there's another reason behind his actions?"

Kripa's caution was warranted. Facing Vasusena without fully understanding the situation was akin to entering a Chakravyuha without a single weapon or shield. The intellect of Aditya Nandhana had the power to make a man doubt everything he knew. In that moment of hesitation, Vasusena would annihilate all opposition, leaving nothing but ashes in his wake.

"I'm not trying to fight that suta, Kripa," Bhishma began softly, his tone betraying the gravity of his thoughts. "But from your words, Vasusena is walking alone on this path to protect Suyodhana. He bears all the scorn, so that Suyodhana may tread the path of dharma this time.

You mentioned both Krishna and Guru Parashurama hold him in respect. A man who gained the respect of two Vishnu avatars doesn't walk the path of adharma lightly."

Bhishma paused, his mind weighed down by his own reflections. "And yet, for the love he bears for Suyodhana, that suta has willingly made himself and his own family a target for our wrath.

We all know of the ill omens that plagued Suyodhana's birth. We just knew that Suyodhana will be an adharmi. But Vasusena has seen every instance of adharma Suyodhana committed in the future. And he is trying to prevent Suyodhana from walking down that path.

Suyodhana refuses to heed good advice even at this age. The only person who commands his ear is Vasusena."

He sighed heavily, exhaustion seeping into his voice as the ghosts of his past mistakes loomed. "Our goal remains the same: to keep Suyodhana from walking down the path of adharma. I see now the mistakes I made with Dhritarashtra because of my previous conversation with that suta. I won't repeat the mistake I made with Dhritarashtra, not with Suyodhana."

His shoulders slumped under the weight of his failures. "I want this family united, Kripa. I would do anything for that. But before we can achieve that, we must face Vasusena. And fighting him in mental warfare is a monumental challenge because of his boon.

From Arjuna, we can learn about Vasusena. Krishna has told us why he is the way he is now. But from Arjuna, we can uncover his nature—his modus operandi, his strengths, and his weaknesses."

Then a voice spoke behind them.

"The tree of adharma that is Duryodhana stands tall and formidable." All the elders jumped at the sudden appearance of Arjuna. Without stopping for a single second he continued. "Its very essence is woven with hatred, with a trunk that is none other than Vasusena—unyielding, unwavering in his loyalty.

The branches, wide and poisonous, are the schemes of Gandharraj Shakuni, spreading their reach far and wide. And then, there are the fruits and flowers—Dushasana, embodying the cruel consequences of their actions. But the root, buried deep and feeding the entire tree, is the king himself, Dhritarashtra. He, the amanushi, unable to wield his intellect with wisdom, nurtures this tree of destruction, allowing it to grow unchecked.

These are the words of Keshava, Pitamah."

"So, you wish to learn about Vasusena, do you?" Arjuna's voice was soft, his words laced with an unexpected calm. All the elders nodded at once.

"Guru Drona once called me his most dedicated, focused, and intelligent disciple," Arjuna continued, his gaze distant, as if reliving a memory, "but in my eyes, Vasusena is the prodigy— that appears once in a generation." The openness of his confession sent a ripple of shock through the room.

"In our previous lives, Vasusena was a part of Guru Drona's ashram, in the division reserved for sutas. He was a solitary child, always keeping to himself, but his dedication... was unshakable. He's the kind that excels in whatever discipline he sets his mind to.

He never hesitated and did not falter when the entire world told him that it was his destiny to hold the whip, not the bow. By the time of his death, he was perhaps the only person who made my brother Yudhistira lose composure with his skill. He was the only person who defeated all of us and I even count myself among them. Even with Sree Maha Vishnu guarding my chariot he made Gandiva fall from my hands.

He was gifted beyond measure—not just in skill, but in speech and in his piety" Arjuna's voice grew softer as he spoke of the boy he once knew. "He is a golden-hearted child."

"Unlike us Kshatriyas, who give because it is our duty, Vasusena gave because it was his nature. It was who he was." Arjuna paused, a shadow passing over his face. "Kakshree Vidura mentioned that Krishna showed you the final battle between Vasusena and me.

You must've seen Pitamah—he had no Kavach and Kundal, did he? Do you know why?" Arjuna's voice hardened, the next words filled with bitter irony. "Because my father, Indradev, disguised himself and asked for them as charity. And even though Vasusena knew it was Indradev, he didn't hesitate. He gave away the very armour that made him invincible. To my father. To his enemy's father. Without a second thought, he gave it."

The silence that followed was heavy with disbelief. The Vasusena Arjuna painted was a stark contrast to the bitter, caustic figure they had come to know—this boy, who could have embodied generosity, now twisted by the path he chose to walk for the sake of Suyodhana.

Arjuna's voice broke the silence again, quieter now. "I don't know the full reason, but he always hated me. Even back then. His hatred grew, I think, out of jealousy. He despised how freely I received the education he craved, simply because of my birth, my caste. Guru Drona refused to teach him the astras.

So, Vasusena left Hastinapur, seeking a teacher who would. He wandered Aryavarta for eleven years, begging for that knowledge, until finally... desperation led him to cheat his way into Parashurama's tutelage, by pretending to be a Brahmin not knowing that Guru Parashurama does not care about the caste of a person."

At this revelation, Bhishma and Vidura exchanged shocked glances, their voices rising in unison: "Wait... Vasusena is a Parshurama Shishya?"

"Why has he fallen so low in this life, I never knew," Arjuna admitted quietly, the weight of his words heavy. "I was shocked when you told me that he insulted Guru Parashurama, Pitamah. In our previous life, he held Bhargava in the highest regard. What could have turned that respect into such bitter hatred, I still don't understand."

Arjuna's voice faltered for a moment before continuing. "His deception came to light after three years of training under Bhargava. Guru Parashurama, in his anger, cursed him. But after his fury cooled, he gifted him the Vijaya Dhanush and sent him away. Vasusena returned to Hastinapur just as our education was coming to an end."

"Guru Drona after our education has been completed, arranged..."

Kripa cut in coldly, his interruption sharp and unexpected. "The reason Vasusena's love turned into bitter respect is because Bhargava betrayed him, Arjuna."

The room fell into stunned silence as all eyes turned to the Kulguru of Hastinapur. Kripa's voice was laced with bitterness. "Bhargava has divya-drishti. No mortal—let alone a boy less than thirty—could ever hope to deceive him. Bhargava knew from the very first day that Vasusena was lying, yet he still cursed him to die."

Kripa's sudden, hysterical laughter reverberated through the chamber, a sound so sharp it felt like ice cutting through the air. "No wonder Vasusena called Reinukeya a heartless butcher. Vasusena may have tried to deceive Bhargava, but he did it out of desperation, not malice. Yet Bhargava, without a shred of mercy, condemned Aditya Nandhana to death. And for what? For the crime of wanting to learn?"

He, Arjuna, and Vidura exchanged glances, their eyes wide as the weight of Kripa's words began to sink in. And Bhishma—who had stood by silently, supporting his teacher—felt the crushing guilt of his ignorance. On that day Vasusena asked him not to interfere because he did not know what happened between him and Guru Parashurama.

How many lives had he shattered with his narrow-mindedness and stubborn refusal to listen to both sides? Gods, how many had he destroyed in his blind arrogance? His heart cried silently, the agony of his choices more suffocating than the stillness in the room.

"Continue, Arjuna," Kripa commanded harshly, his voice unyielding. Arjuna hesitated, stumbling over his words for a moment, but then he pressed on.

"After our education was completed, Guru Drona arranged a Kala Pradharshan to showcase the prowess of our arms to the world. It was during this event that I saw Vasusena again."

Arjuna's voice grew quieter, his gaze distant as he recalled the scene. "The Kala Pradarshan went smoothly, and when my turn came, I performed well. I was praised by the elders, the kings, the people... and finally, by my teachers. I had trained hard for this moment, for I wished to honor Guru Drona's teachings. When I finished, I was filled with a sense of accomplishment, happiness, and pride."

"Guru Drona then declared me to be the greatest archer of my generation, and in his joy, threw an open challenge to anyone who dared prove him wrong.

A crack, like the clap of thunder, split the air and all of us looked towards the source. It was then that I saw him. Vasusena stepped forward, his Vijaya Dhanush still vibrating from the power of his stringing. He stood before the gathered assembly, challenging me, boldly stating that whatever I could do, he would do better."

"He is the son of a charioteer. He cannot challenge a prince," Kripa spoke, ever bound by the rules of hierarchy and propriety.

Arjuna's response came with a hint of amusement, tinged by the weight of memory. "You said the same to him in our past life. Even as the public shamed him, Suyodhana took his hand and declared, in front of all, that he would make him the King of Anga with his father's permission. And he did."

"Suyodhana was the first person to show Vasusena respect," Bhishma's voice softened, as though the truth itself was too painful to accept. "Just that small act of kindness made Vasusena this loyal?"

"Yes, Pitamah. Because we were equals now... we could truly fight each other." Arjuna's lips curled into a faint smile. "It was only the second time in my life that I felt truly humbled."

His smile faded into the air as he continued, the memory sharp and clear. "Everyone present at the Kala Pradarshan felt that Suyodhana gave Anga to an unworthy man. They saw Vasusena as nothing more than a charioteer's son, and we—his peers—looked down on him the same way. But then, he showed us all just how dangerous he could be."

Arjuna's voice took on a distant tone as he recounted the humiliation. "I had practised for months—months—for that day. I had trained endlessly, refining my skill with the astras, devising a performance that I thought was groundbreaking. Even Guru Drona himself confirmed that I had used the astras in ways no one had before. It was supposed to be my moment, my showcase."

A pause hung heavy in the air.

"Vasusena took a single glance," Arjuna continued, his voice now laced with awe. "Just one glance, and he understood everything. He saw the mechanics of my astras, the precision of my movements—and without hesitation, he replicated them. Not just replicated... sometimes, he performed them even better. What all of us thought was an empty boast was proved wrong very quickly. Vasusena backed his words with his skill."

It was no wonder Arjuna had called Vasusena a once-in-a-generation prodigy. "To the people watching, it seemed like a battle between equals," Arjuna continued, his voice turning bitter. "But to my brothers, cousins, and every warrior trained in martial arts, it was nothing but humiliation. I had spent months relentlessly preparing for this display of skill, only for a suta to master and perform it flawlessly on his very first attempt."

Arjuna's smile, though guileless, seemed weighed down by the memory. "In the ashram, among my peers, there was no one my equal. Perhaps I would have grown prideful of my abilities, if not for Vasusena.

That suta—with his threadbare clothes, his fierce determination, and his skill that matched mine—opened my eyes. He made me realize how vast the world truly is, and that there was still so much for me to learn. He drove me to sharpen my abilities further."

A flicker of pain crossed his face as he spoke of Bhima. "For the humiliation, Vasusena dealt me, Bhimasena called Vasusena's father, Adhiratha, a dog during his crowning ceremony. Jyeshtha Yudhishthira rebuked him privately, but the damage had already been done. The insult Vasusena suffered that day poisoned his heart completely against all of us. From that moment, he fell into the clutches of Mamashree Shakuni."

Arjuna's words grew heavier, weighed down by regret. "That was when his downfall began. He adopted Gandhararaja's schemes as his own and became Suyodhana's unwavering supporter. In every one of Suyodhana's plots, Vasusena was the one who secured the means to bring them to fruition."

He sighed deeply, the gravity of his words pressing down on the room. "His wrath towards us became his undoing. If we had received the same education, used the same equipment, and had equal opportunities, Vasusena could have killed me."

Arjuna paused, his gaze distant. "I never stopped learning. I kept honing my skills. But Vasusena... he stopped. His growth, which could have eclipsed every warrior in Aryavarta—save for Dau Balarama and Madhava—came to a halt. All because his grudge against us became more important to him than his own progress. Such a waste of potential."

"Out of all the warriors on the opposing side, we hated him the most," Arjuna's voice trembled with a mix of bitterness and reluctant respect. "For the insult to his father, Vasusena repaid us a thousand times over. His knowledge of the Vedas surpasses that of most in Aryavarta. But he was no saint. He was an iconoclast, a disrespectful bastard, filled with rage."

There was a brief pause, his expression hardening. "Yet... he was a good man to everyone except us. That truth infuriated all of us—how could someone with such strength of character turn to adharma? Instead of guiding Suyodhana back to the path of righteousness, he encouraged him further. Both of them sank deeper, dragging each other into the pit of adharma—all because of the anger they carried toward us.

But in this life Vasusena has diverted Suyodhana's anger from us towards you, Pitamah. This is another kind of adharma. I wish he'd understand our view and come to our side."

Bhishma's eyes glazed as Arjuna's words stirred memories. His mind drifted to the vision Krishna had shown him—the terrible revelation of Vasusena's true nature, of the choices he made and how it came to this position.

I stood by him and yet I have never performed my duties as a true friend."

"Suyodhana gave me his friendship, and I betrayed him," Vasusena whispered, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. "I betrayed him in so many ways that I feel ashamed of myself."

The tears fell faster as he continued, his voice thick with sorrow. "I supported Suyodhana in his conspiracies against the Pandavas. I thought I was doing it out of loyalty, not out of selfishness, save for my enmity with Arjuna. I believed my actions were selfless, aligned with my friend's wishes, to prove my loyalty."

"But a true friend would have guided him away from such evil deeds. A true friend would have stopped him from walking down a dark path."

He paused, his voice barely above a whisper. "Suyodhana made me the King of Anga so that I could challenge Arjuna. Some might see this as a bribe, and perhaps it was. He wanted an archer who could defeat Arjuna, yes. But he had already secured my loyalty."

Vasusena's tears continued to flow as he spoke, his heart laid bare. "He never needed to call this sutaputra his friend. He never needed to love me so much. He never needed to place me in his heart above all his brothers and relatives."

I supported Suyodhana in all his schemes, and at times, I even devised them.

"I knew a fair fight with the Pandavas was futile, so I suggested we crush them before the Vrishnis and Panchalas could come to their aid. It was a brilliant strategy, but was it the strategy of a true friend? No. A true friend would have urged him to seek honor, not deceit."

I even encouraged Suyodhana to mock the Pandavas in their exile, driven by my own desire to see them suffer. In doing so, I dragged him into the Ghosha Yatra, where the Yakshas attacked us. When danger loomed, I fled, leaving Suyodhana at their mercy. What true friend abandons his friend in peril?"

Vasusena's tears fell freely now, each drop a testament to his regret. "Through it all, Suyodhana remained steadfast. He never questioned my failures, never complained. He ignored my mistakes, hoping against hope that I could change his destiny. He proved to be a better friend than I ever was to him."

His voice grew softer, filled with the weight of his self-condemnation. "In the end, it is clear to me. I, Vasusena, failed as a true friend. I let my ego, my hatred, and my ambition blind me to what Suyodhana truly needed—a friend who would guide him towards righteousness, not an enabler who would lead him further into darkness."

The memory Krishna had shown wasn't one from some distant future, nor an imagined vision of what could be. No, it was a glimpse into Vasusena's present reality—his regret, his relentless battle to right his wrongs.

Bhishma's thoughts spiraled in turmoil.

In this life, Vasusena had sought atonement, struggling down the treacherous path of redemption, turning away from the darkness that had once consumed him. And yet... by the gods, they had provoked him. They had pushed an evil man, who had finally sought to reform, back into the very inferno he yearned to escape.

'How cruel and how blind am I?' Bhishma's heart weighed heavy with grief. A man once buried in adharma had tried, desperately, to tread the path of righteousness. But instead of lifting him up, of guiding him toward salvation—they—he—had become the very force dragging him back into the depths.

Is this what my life has come to? he questioned bitterly. 'Am I, in the end, destined to shove innocents into the arms of adharma with my actions? Is this my legacy?'

His voice, rough and cracked from the weight of it all, broke through his reflection. "Anyway..." he murmured, shaking off the oppressive burden of his thoughts. "Let's confront that suta once and for all. Let's put this behind us and try to mend our family from now on."

—-----------------------------

(Kripa's POV)

"Before we face Vasusena, show us the conversation you had with him, Jyeshta," Kripa's voice was soft but firm. "Arjuna, Vidura, and the rest of us need to understand how Vaikartana managed to break your spirit. We need to know the weapons he used—the words that wounded you, Jyestha. Arjuna... you are our guide for what lies ahead. We cannot afford to face him blindly."

Jyestha Devavrata hesitated, clearly unwilling to relive what had transpired, but finally, with a sigh, he summoned the screen of mist to reveal the bitter conversation he had with Aditya Nandhana.

It was painful—more than painful—to watch. Vasusena had not merely challenged Bhishma; he had dismantled him, piece by piece, tearing down his brother's strength with a cruel precision. Brick by brick, Radheya had destroyed the pillars of Bhishma's self-assurance. What was worse, he had done it not through raw force, but through his mind. He had shown himself to be Bhishma's equal in wisdom, his words sharp and profound, cutting deeper than any weapon could.

But when he accused Bhishma of planting the seeds of jealousy in Dhritarashtra's heart... all hell broke loose.

Arjuna and Vidura growled low, their fury barely contained. Arjuna's fists clenched, and Vidura's eyes narrowed with anger, but Bhishma... Bhishma only smiled, a wry and defeated smile, as though he had expected this all along.

"He's not wrong," Bhishma said quietly, his voice bitter but resigned, raising a hand to calm both of them. "He's not wrong at all."

The conversation that followed was worse than anything Kripa had anticipated. Vasusena exploited every chink in Bhishma's armour, using his pride against him with ruthless precision. By the end of their debate, the great Bhishma had been reduced to sobbing on the ground, and even they—those who loved and respected Bhishma—could not argue against the unyielding logic of Vaikartana.

And then came the final blow. Vasusena had shown Bhishma a vision—one that captured the conversation between Suyodhana, Gandhari, and Dhritarashtra.

Suyodhana's mocking tone rang out through the mist. Mahaamahim Bhishma? Prime Minister Vidura? Amma, really? The scorn was palpable, cutting through the air like a sharp blade, each word drenched in venom. The child's disdain was unmistakable as if each syllable was meant to wound deeply.

When Suyodhana spoke of being branded as "Hastinapur ka kalank," the curse of the kingdom, Kripa saw Bhishma's face downcast. That cruel title had first been uttered by his Jyestha, spoken in anger at a childish mistake long ago. Now, it has come back to haunt them all. They could only watch as the memory twisted Suyodhana's young face into a mask of bitterness, the scorn in his voice stinging like an old wound being torn open.

Then came the accusation that stilled every breath in the room: Ask him to spend time with us without thinking that I and my brothers are Kulnashaks.

Suyodhana's words were laced with contempt, and the weight of that accusation hit Bhishma like a blow to the chest. Kripa could see the pain flicker across Bhishma's eyes—every time he had looked at Dhritarashtra's sons and seen not children, but harbingers of destruction, it all came rushing back in an instant. How had he failed so utterly to see what was right in front of him?

Suyodhana's recounting of Vidura's neglect and disdain, his manipulations over the years—it was a hammer blow. The young prince's words, spoken with the pain of betrayal, echoed like a curse. All of their chest heaved with the weight of it all, every accusation cutting deeper than the last while Arjuna looked horrified at the scene unfolding before him.

When Suyodhana confronted Gandhari, accusing her of blindness, Bhishma could no longer hold his composure. The boy had to ask why his mother had chosen to abandon her duties to him and his brothers.

His contempt for her, for her adherence to Bhishma's counsel over her own instincts, reflected not only Gandhari's failure, but all of theirs. He had seen it in her too—her loyalty to them had driven a wedge between mother and son. It was as if Suyodhana had demanded to know why she had blindly followed a man who loathed them all.

Suyodhana's words were dripping with disappointment and betrayal—a stark contrast to the love Kripa had always seen that shone in the boy's heart for all of them.

Kripa could only watch in horror as Suyodhana, consumed by righteous rage, interrogated the royal physician. The disdain in the prince's voice, the trembling fear in the physician's body, and the brutality of the interrogation unfolded like a slow nightmare. Their hearts clenched at the transformation of the boy he had once sought to guide.

And then came the final revelation that crushed all hope: By Mahaamahim Bhishma's command. The physician's cry rang through the air, revealing that the very person who had sought to protect the kingdom had been the one to keep the truth hidden from the king and queen.

Suyodhana's sneer, as he repeated those damning words with chilling finality, struck the deepest wound. Mahaamahim Bhishma? Amma, really? That's the person you trusted with our well-being? The accusation hung in the air like a heavy weight, suffocating and undeniable, crushing what little hope was left in their hearts.

Vasusena's voice, cold and unyielding, filled the air, and Kripa shuddered at the chilling intensity it carried.

"The King's hope, that one day you'd come to love him and his children, was dashed to pieces," Vasusena declared, his tone merciless. Every word struck like an arrow, and Kripa could see the agony reflecting in Bhishma's eyes. The elder who had always been revered, always in control, now stood defenseless against the unrelenting truth. Kripa tightened his grip on the pillar behind which he stood, wishing he could shield his brother from the onslaught, but knowing Vaikartana's words were the bitter truth.

Vasusena pressed on, his voice devoid of emotion. There was no sympathy in him as he recounted Bhishma's cold demand on the day Suyodhana was born—that the newborn be cast into the forest. Kripa flinched at the cruelty of the memory, at words he had known but had never truly heard until this moment. The weight of that command now seemed unbearable.

Bhishma's face was a mask of disbelief and grief, his once-proud demeanor crumbling. His eyes silently pleaded with Vasusena to stop, but the boy continued, relentlessly. Vasusena listed the humiliations that Bhishma had inflicted upon the Gandharinandhans, each insult dripping with venom, and Kripa could only watch helplessly.

The great Bhishma, the pillar of the Kuru dynasty, was unraveling, and Kripa sensed that the worst was yet to come. Vasusena had not finished his assault.

"You call yourself dharmik?" Vasusena whispered, his voice sharp and cold as ice. His laughter followed, bitter and filled with years of suppressed fury, echoing through the hall like a taunt. Kripa's blood ran cold at the sound, as if death itself had laughed in the boy's voice.

And then Vasusena spoke of Krishna, the Vishnu avatar, and Kripa's breath caught in his throat. The boy's recounting of the Dashavatara was unnerving, each avatar described with haunting precision, but it was when Vasusena reached Keshava that the room seemed to darken. His words were a warning, a chilling reminder of the danger Krishna posed—the ruthlessness, the willingness to commit adharma for the sake of dharma. Kripa felt the chill deep in his bones.

As Vasusena's voice darkened, revealing terrifying visions of the future, Kripa's heart ached for Bhishma.

It was when the boy foretold of Bhimasena's slaughter of the Kuru dynasty, of the bloodbath that would befall Hastinapura, he and Vidura collapsed. The horror of that vision weighed on them all, crushing their spirits under the enormity of what was to come.

And then, with a cruel laugh, Vasusena reminded Bhishma of Krishna's words. Krishna had never promised to heal the rift between the Pandavas and the Dhārtarāṣṭras. No, he had only given Bhishma access to Gandhari's chamber, nothing more, nothing less. Kripa's heart sank at the reminder. They had all believed in Krishna's promise of peace, had hoped against hope that it would save them, but Vasusena's cold reminder shattered that illusion into pieces.

Bhishma, soaked in tears, now looked utterly defeated. The mighty patriarch, the unshakable Gangeya, had been reduced to a broken man. Kripa had never seen him like this, and the sight of his brother's suffering filled him with a terrible sorrow. He wished to shake Bhishma, to plead with him, to make him see reason. But how could he? How could anyone stand against the boy who had been blessed by Shiva himself?

Kripa could only stand there, paralyzed, as Bhishma wept openly, his once mighty spirit crushed beneath the weight of Vasusena's truths. Vasusena, meanwhile, stood before him, cold and unbothered, a slight smile on his lips. This was no longer a debate or a battle of words; it was a reckoning, and Bhishma had lost.

The weight of Vaikartana's words hung in the air, suffocating, as all of them tried to comprehend the enormity of what had just been spoken.

Arjuna, his voice trembling, broke the silence. "Is everything shown here true?" His eyes were wide with disbelief, his breath shallow and uneven as he surveyed the devastation around him. "Can our family ever be whole again?"

His question hung in the air, laden with fear and desperate hope, but there was no answer. Only the suffocating weight of truth settled in the room, pressing against their souls.

Kripa, his face etched with anguish, turned to Arjuna. "Is Bhimasena the one who killed all the Gandharinandhans, Partha?" His voice cracked under the strain of disbelief. "Tell me the suta is lying."

Arjuna bowed his head, unable to meet his gaze, and the silence that followed was answer enough. How could he speak when the burden of guilt lay so heavily on his shoulders? The truth had been laid bare, and no words could change what had already come to pass.

The weight of their mistakes against the Gandharinandhans now seemed unbearable. How could any of them hope to face Vasusena, knowing the injustice they had allowed? Yet in this moment, the only flicker of hope that remained was in the very one they had wronged—Vasusena. A cruel twist of fate that none of them could deny.

At that moment a servant entered, shattering the silence that had weighed heavy in the room, his voice cutting through the oppressive stillness. "Vasusena wishes to speak with you."

Bhishma barely managed to raise his head, his silent nod the only response, signaling the guard to allow Vasusena in.

When Vasusena entered, it felt as though the very air in the room shifted, a cold presence accompanying him. His gaze swept briefly across the room, before landing on Arjuna. A soft, almost gentle smile appeared on his lips, though it teetered on the edge of mockery.

"Gudakesha..." Vasusena's voice was unnervingly cheerful as he greeted Arjuna. The title, meant to be one of honour, instead felt like a mockery on his lips. Kripa's brow furrowed—Gudakesha means the conqueror of sleep. Why is Vasusena...?

"You knew..." Arjuna's voice, though soft, carried an undercurrent of wrath that slowly began to seep into his tone. "You knew I was from the future."

Vasusena's smile widened, unmistakably mocking now. "From the very first day I saw you, I knew." His words were light, but the playfulness beneath them was clear. "To be honest, your confusion and frustration have been quite entertaining for me. Whenever I feel down, I just recall your face, so lost and bewildered... gives me a good laugh."

This insolent little—

"Don't judge me, Gurudev," Vasusena addressed Kripa, without so much as turning to face him. "I have to find my amusement somewhere."

"And my frustration gives you amusement?" Arjuna snapped, his words sharp with barely contained anger.

Vasusena didn't even hesitate. "Yes, it does." His smirk grew. "Watching you flounder like a newborn kitten, so confused by the world around you, is... so adorable."

Arjuna's fists clenched, his entire body rigid with barely restrained fury, but Vasusena waved him off, his dismissal casual, almost bored. "Please leave, Gandivadhari," Vasusena said, his voice smooth and cutting. "I have a meeting with Mahaamahim Bhishma here. I asked him to come after discussing the knowledge he received from Kripacharya."

"I will stay," Arjuna growled, his voice taut with anger. "No longer will you exploit your knowledge of the future to torment Pitamah and Kakashree."

Vasusena's smirk deepened, deliberately provoking. "Letting a child fight your battles for you, Mahaamahim Bhishma?" His tone dripped with venomous mockery. "That's a new low for you, I suppose."

"Not as low as murdering an unarmed child with the aid of others," Arjuna shot back, his voice like steel, "like jackals tearing apart a lion cub."

Kripa's grim satisfaction was evident as Vasusena's smirk faltered. But the expression that followed sent shivers down his spine. The shift in his demeanour was palpable—gone was the mocking, playful man. What stood in his place now was a predator, eyes gleaming with dangerous intent. "Dhananjaya," he began, his voice low and simmering with menace, "this... is the issue I have with Mahaamahim Bhishma."

He took a step forward, his presence overwhelming, and suddenly it felt as though an asura had entered the room. His molten gaze locked onto Arjuna, unblinking. "This is a conversation between adults. Walk away, Gandivadhari. I don't wish to fight a child. Consider this your only warning. Leave... while I still see you as my child and not an enemy."

"Scared?" Arjuna's voice was laced with mockery, a dangerous edge to it.

Vasusena's eyes softened. "No. It's mercy," he replied, his voice dangerously calm. "A mercy for all the adharma I caused you and your family in my previous life. A mercy I won't offer twice."

"I killed you in my past life," Arjuna snarled. "I know you better than anyone here, Karna. You're nothing but a coward, boastful when you feel threatened, but always ready to flee. You've survived so far only because of your knowledge. No more."

Vasusena stood in silence, the weight of Arjuna's words hanging in the air between them. "Since you wish to walk the path of dharma in this life," Arjuna continued, his tone softening slightly, "join us. Repair the damage you've done. Help reunite our family."

Vasusena's expression darkened further, his smirk morphing into something cruel and predatory, like a beast ready to strike.

"So, despite my warning, you've chosen to stay. Very well, Dhananjaya. It seems that all my problems are gathered in one place." A chilling, shark-like grin spread across his face. "Let's see if I can't make my problems tear each other apart, piece by piece. Don't say I didn't warn you."

His molten gold eyes glowed red with dark amusement as he declared, "Shall we begin our war?"

Chapter Text

With a sharp snap of his fingers, Vasusena made the entire room melt away, the world around them shifting into a memory. The air thickened with tension as the scene unfolded.

“Yesterday I asked you a question, Mahaamahim. Today’s discussion revolves around that same question.” Vasusena’s voice was like a blade, cold and sharp. "Are you an incompetent old man... or a manipulative one?"

The memory unraveled before them, vivid and dark. A younger Suyodhana appeared before their eyes, his face twisted in frustration and arrogance. His footsteps thundered across the training grounds, his voice booming with challenge.

“VASUSENA!” The cry echoed through the scene, filled with the fire of childish pride.

They saw Vasusena’s eyes flicker with fondness for a brief moment before his face smoothed over, masking any emotion. Kripa, along with the others, watched as the arrogant prince boldly challenged Vasusena, his impatience on full display. Vasusena, irritated yet composed, led Suyodhana out of the palace walls, taking him to hunt a tiger.

The memory jumped forward to the dense forest. There, amidst the trees, the great beast lay slain, its neck bent into an unnatural shape beneath Vasusena’s hands. Suyodhana, who had once radiated boldness, now stood quietly, terror creeping into his eyes as he watched Vasusena kill the tiger with his bare hands, the sheer force of his strength evident in every move.

It was then that the conversation between them began.

“You know you cannot defeat me,” memory-Vasusena said with the exasperation only seen in the face of elder brothers done with the antics of their younger siblings. “I taught you everything you know of Mala Yuddha. In your current state, you have no hope of beating me. So, why the challenge?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, demanding truth.

To everyone’s surprise, the proud Suyodhana apologized, his arrogance dissolving into pain.

But Vasusena wasn’t swayed by the apology. He remained firm, unyielding. He pressed the prince further, using his authority as a teacher to probe deeper. “If I do not know what ails you,” Vasusena said, his tone soft and kind, “I cannot help you.”

Suyodhana broke down then, his shoulders shaking as tears filled his eyes. “It is not something you can solve, Vasusena. No one in Hastinapura or Aryavarta can help me,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his pain, soft sobs escaped him. 

And the realization struck like a blow—Suyodhana, beneath his mask of arrogance, was suffering. And all of them had failed to see it.

Kripa, Bhishma, and Vidura exchanged glances, the weight of their collective failure hanging in the air. How had they missed this? How had they not seen the child’s pain beneath the veneer of pride?

The mood shifted again as the memory continued. They snorted in amusement as memory-Radheya calmly removed his armor, talisman, prayer beads, and every accessory that marked him as a warrior of Aryavarta. Standing bare–save for his garments–before the prince, he looked on calmly. Suyodhana, bewildered, asked what he was doing.

“As you yourself have said,” memory-Vasusena explained, “no one in Aryavarta can help you. I have taken every accessory that represents Aryavarta off my person. Consider me a man from beyond Aryavarta, an outsider, for the moment. Now, tell me your problem.”

The mood shifted and, as Suyodhana—voice cracking with vulnerability—revealed his burden, Vasusena did something wholly unexpected. Something that seemed completely out of place for a person residing in Aryavarta. He reached out and, with a gentle tug, pulled Suyodhana’s cheeks—affectionately.

“You’re way too adorable,” memory-Vasusena said with a chuckle, “to be the destroyer of the greatest kingdom in Aryavarta.”

The scene froze for a moment, leaving everyone stunned—Kripa, Bhishma, Arjuna—all watching the memory with disbelief etched on their faces.

Vasusena stood, arms crossed and a faint smirk on his lips as he watched the reactions. He shrugged casually, as if to say, What? I always wanted to pull his cheeks, and can you blame me?

He caught Vidura shaking his head in disbelief, while Bhishma’s expression was stern, barely concealing the irritation boiling beneath his stoic mask. But Arjuna… Arjuna looked as though his entire worldview was collapsing—his eyes flickering between the memory and Vasusena, as if questioning every decision that led him to this moment.

And deep down, Kripa had to admit… Vasusena wasn’t entirely wrong. Of all the children in Kuru Vansh, Bhimasena and Suyodhana were undeniably… adorable, with their chubby cheeks and hot tempers. Like plump kittens whose tails were stepped on.

 Vasusena glanced at Kripa with amusement, as if he could read his thoughts. He can't read minds, can he? Kripa thought, imagining the consequences of that with a shudder. Seeing the future is bad enough. If he can read minds too—no, let’s not think about it.

Predictably, memory-Suyodhana grew irritated by Vasusena’s nonchalance. “Any other person would hate me once they learned the truth,” he muttered darkly.

Memory-Vasusena nodded, unphased by the hostility. “Your problem, Suyodhana, is not that you think people might hate you. It’s that you already believe they do.”

"I am not wrong to believe it! I know that I cannot make anyone love me. I tried and tried and tried again to gain their love, Vasusena. But it was all for naught." Suyodhana wailed. "Because I cannot change the fact that I was a dirt-born child and an ill omen. I thought if I could beat you today, I could be acknowledged by Pitamah Bhishma and Vidhur Kaka. But deep in my heart I know even if I managed to beat you, they will never acknowledge me. My problem does not have a solution, Vasusena."

Vasusena, in the memory, narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “How were you born, Suyodhana?”

The young prince blinked in confusion. “What?”

“I’m not asking about what happened at your birth. I mean the logistics. The gap between your siblings… it’s barely a few months at most. How did Queen Gandhari give birth to a hundred children in that short time?” Memory-Suyodhana’s face grew thunderous, but Vasusena continued, undeterred. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m asking you this because you called yourself dirt-born. If I’m right… the answer to why you chose that term lies in your own story.”

Suyodhana bowed his head, shame flickering across his face. Slowly, he began recounting the tale of his birth. After his narration ended he bowed his head in shame.

"Did you know that many great sages, as well as Pitamah Bhishma and Vidur Kaka, advised my parents to abandon the calamity which was about to strike Hastinapu?" All the members present were brought to tears when Suyodhana asked the question. "Is it my fault that I was born during a durmuhurtham? All my life my brothers and I have strived to prove that we are not a blight to Hastinapur. Sometimes I wonder if the death of myself is what it takes for them to love me. Tell me Radheya... tell me what it takes. Tell me what should I do for them to look past the circumstances of my birth?”

 Radheya smiled wryly. "There is no solution to your question because even if you were born during an auspicious time, the elders of Hastinapur would have hated you." 

"W-what!!!" Memory-Suyodhana shouted in a flabbergasted manner. 

Memory-Radheya simply nodded. "Prince Suyodhana, you are not hated because you were born during a durmuhurtham. They timed your birth during a durmuhurtham to make you the villain in the story of the Pandava Princes. You might think that the elders of Hastinapur hate you because you are an ill-omen and arrogant child. Let me clarify this, they hated you even before you were born."

“How dare you insinuate that!” Bhishma’s voice thundered, filled with fury as he lunged towards Vasusena, his ironclad composure shattered. Kripa and Vidura rushed to restrain both Bhishma and the equally enraged Arjuna, their grip tight as the tension in the room thickened like a storm on the verge of breaking.

Kripa forced himself to think clearly, suppressing the rising tide of anger. The words that Vasusena had spoken to Suyodhana were unmistakably treasonous. By creating division within the royal family, Vasusena could be charged with sedition, and could be thrown out of the kingdom for such claims and Kripa stated this to Radheya.

But the boy reacted completely differently from what Kripa had expected him to. He thought there would be fear or defensiveness, Kripa saw only amusement even after all of this. Vasusena’s lips curled in an eerie smile, one that reminded them all of a rakshasa’s glee. 

“Treason?” he chuckled, his voice light and hearty as if he didn’t commit sedition before their eyes. “The charges won’t stick. If anything, those accusations will wrap around the necks of Mahaamahim Bhishma, Prime Minister Vidura… and perhaps even you, Kripacharya.”

“You’re bluffing!” Arjuna’s voice was a low growl, his hands clenched into fists, but the ease with which Vasusena dismissed the threat made a ripple of unease spread through the group.

Vasusena, unphased, let out another chuckle, this one darker than before. “If you attempt to brand me a traitor, you, your precious brother and nephew will be the ones paying the price, Acharya.” His eyes, once glowing molten gold, darkened, shifting into a deep, brownish red—the unmistakable sign of his boon from Parameshwara. 

The air seemed to grow heavier with his words, as if they carried the weight of prophecy. And through his eyes, all of them felt that Parameshwara himself was watching them in rage.

“Try to condemn me in court without the full story, and watch how your world crumbles.” He bared his teeth in a challenging manner. “Forget the Queen, forget the King—anyone with even a drop of sense will spit in your face.”

The ominous declaration hung in the air like a curse, and for a brief, terrifying moment, everyone knew he wasn’t bluffing.

“When I said the Dhārtarāṣṭras will always hate you,” Vasusena smiled like a cat toying with it’s prey, “did you think I spoke those words lightly?” He scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “I personally ensured that they’ll always hate you—without question, without end. And in this life, I don’t do a half-assed job.”

With a sharp snap of his fingers, the memory resumed.

"Have you lost your mind, Vasusena!" Memory-Suyodhana’s voice trembled with fury. "How dare you suggest such a thing? Out of respect for our bond, I’ll give you a chance—take those words back, or I’ll have your tongue torn out for treason."

Memory-Vasusena, however, was unshaken, his smile languid, almost serene. “I accept those charges gladly, my Prince,” he responded, with the calm of a man ready to meet his fate. “But will you not give this accused man a chance to defend himself?”

“Radheya, please,” Suyodhana’s tone softened into a plea, eyes desperate as he looked into the calm, resolute face of his friend. “I don’t need any solution to my problems if it means it harms you.”

Memory-Vasusena’s reply rang like a vow. “For you, my Prince, I will gladly accept death. If it means your happiness, I will embrace Hell with open arms.”

For those watching the scene unfold, it felt more like an oath than a conversation. The depth of Vasusena’s loyalty was staggering…….and yet it stood in direct opposition to his actions with Suyodhana. He was making him rebellious to his elders—which was adharma. Something wasn’t quite adding up.

Kripa’s mind churned. Vasusena’s behavior was strange, too strange. He could feel it in his gut—there was a dangerous game being played. The feeling that Vidur, his Jyestha and he somehow were dangerous for Suyodhana’s life was coming with full vengeance. If it might be just one of them it would be feasible but all three of them not a chance. 

(But what if there was such a chance? What if they were responsible?)

"Is Hastinapur not the richest kingdom in all of Aryavarta, Prince Suyodhana?" memory-Vasusena asked.

“Of course it is,” Suyodhana responded irritably, the question seeming trivial.

Vasusena’s smile remained undisturbed. “This kingdom is blessed, my Prince. You have scholars and priests with knowledge that rivals the gods themselves. A king, though blind, who is an able administrator. Mahaamahim Bhishma and Prime Minister Vidura, who have unparalleled wisdom. Both queens, virtuous and kind, even blessed by great sages.” He paused, letting his words sink in. 

“And yet, the children of one queen are cursed, while the children of the other are blessed. One queen’s sons are born during auspicious times, while the other’s during inauspicious moments. One set of children is hated, even though they stand in plain sight, while the other is loved without being seen. Tell me, Prince—are any of these statements false?”

"Radheya," Suyodhana’s voice grew sharp with impatience, “enough with the riddles! You accused Hastinapur’s elders of hating me and my brothers before we were born. How does any of this connect?”

Kripa, watching intently, felt a cold sweat begin to form at the back of his neck. Vasusena wasn’t a man to ask useless questions. No—each word, each query was a thread in a dark tapestry, and Kripa was beginning to see the image forming. And, when the tapestry was fully woven in his head,…his blood turned to ice and his hands trembled in fear.

And, from the corner of the eye, he saw the exact moment that Vidura and his Jyestha arrived at the same conclusion.

Vasusena’s laugh was low, almost melancholic. “Every word I’ve spoken is relevant, my Prince.” His eyes darkened further, no longer the playful gold but now smoldering with wrath. “I mentioned both queens were granted an unexpected boon, yes? 

The unexpected boon for both the queens of Hastinapur is every parent's dream. The choice to choose the time when their children will be born into this world."

And then, the full weight of the truth hit like the Brahmastra.

Bhishma and Vidura collapsed to the ground, the shock too much for their bodies to bear. Arjuna stood frozen, eyes wide and unfocused, as the implications of Vasusena’s words began to dawn on him. 

The room seemed to shrink under the crushing weight of revelation.

The boy hid his wrath under the facade of a reckless and mocking youth so that none of them could fathom the war he is waging underneath their noses. But now the carefree facade finally was gone, replaced by the patient shrewdness of a person who had been playing a game they had never even known existed.

And only now they realized just how dangerous he truly was.

“Do you need a moment to process…” Vasusena began, but seeing the glazed, disbelieving expressions on their faces, he sighed and backtracked. “Never mind.”

Vidura opened his mouth to speak, but Vasusena raised a hand, silencing him before the words could leave his lips.

“Questions can wait until the conversation is done. There's not much left that’s relevant to this situation, so let’s finish it,” he stated, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. “And Mahaamahim Bhishma…” Vasusena’s eyes flickered toward the elder, who was still visibly shaken, “...has yet to answer my question.”

Bhishma—trembling, his composure completely shattered—could only meet Vasusena's gaze with a hollow stare. The weight of the accusation, the unspoken truth behind the Suta’s words, pressed upon him like a vice. His silence spoke volumes—of guilt, of fear, and perhaps of a deep-seated regret that had been buried under years and years of duty and blind loyalty to the throne.

Gandhari Nandhan's eyes widened in shock. "The opening of your pot signifies your birth time, Prince Suyodhana. All your other brothers survived for three more months in those pots. So, logically speaking, you could have stayed in that pot for at least three more months." The little prince's hands started to shiver in fright.

"My first question was if Hastinapur is financially rich or not?" Radheya continued mercilessly, not sugar-coating any of his words and bludgeoning the truth into Suyodhana’s brain. "Is Hastinapur so poor that it cannot pay a priest to predict an auspicious time?” 

When Suyodhana did not reply, he continued.

“I also stated that Hastinapur has wise priests. Mahaamahim Bhishma and Prime Minister Vidhur also have knowledge about muhurthams. So they very well knew that the time when your pot was being opened was a durmuhurtham.  Don't try to defend them. Because the time of birth of every royal scion is recorded, as per the regulations set up by King Sarvadamana himself.  And yet your pot was opened on their orders in one of the worst durmuhurthams since the birth of Ravanasura."

Suyodhana fell bonelessly to the ground, tears falling down his face. "It's not like you are Shani Deva to convert an auspicious time to a durmuhurtham just by existing, Prince Suyodhana," Radheya shook his head. "The elders of Hastinapur made you and your brothers a curse, so that you will be the villains in the story of the Pandava Princes. Now pass your judgment, my Prince. Am I wrong?"

"No." Suyodhana choked out. "You are acquitted of all  charges."

The little Prince continued to cry. "Even in exile, Kunti Maa and Madri Maa checked for an auspicious time to give birth to the Pandavas. Why?" He wailed. "My mother received a boon to have us. And these..." he clenched his fists"... so called dharmiks twisted that blessing into a curse. What sin have I committed for them to hate me? What did I ever do in my life to deserve this?"

"Mahaamaahim Bhishma was obsessed with the Hastinapur throne, Prince Suyodhana." Radheya answered softly. "Because of his pledge, he devoted his life to the kingdom. So before his death, he wanted a worthy King on the throne. And in his eyes, what's a normal mortal prince compared to a demigod? I apologize for saying this, Prince Suyodhana, but even before you were born, you had already lost. Owing to his obsession to find a perfect king, you and all of your brothers were the sacrifices he felt were acceptable to make."

The tension in the air was thick, almost unbearable. Both his Jyestha and Vidura understood that Vasusena’s actions had led them to a place of no return. There was no undoing what had been done, no mending the once-fragile, now-shattered bonds that once held their family together.

Vasusena hadn’t merely burned their family tree—he had salted the ashes, ensuring nothing could ever grow there again. Their only concession was that Gandhari and Dhritarashtra were not shown the full conversation. Till now Dhritarashtra was just angry at them for Bhishma’s deeds. But if this was shown… Kripa shivered at the mere thought of Dhritarashtra’s wrath and Gandhari’s heartbreak.

“So… what’s your answer, Mahaamahim Bhishma?” Vasusena’s voice was steady, but his gaze was sharp enough to cut through the air, piercing the greatest of the Kuruvansha.

“Are you a malicious old man, or just an incompetent one? I’m waiting for your answer, Mahaamahim.”

The question, which had ignited fury in their hearts when they heard it for the first time, now instilled nothing but emptiness. The air around them seemed heavier, suffocating. No one dared move. Bhishma’s silence only deepened the tension.

Vidura, sensing Bhishma’s silence, stepped forward, his voice barely a whisper, pleading. “Vasusena, we never intended harm. Suyodhana is our blood, our child. We never meant to—”

Vasusena laughed, but it was a sound hollowed of any warmth, bitter and cutting. “Oh, I’m well aware you didn’t mean to do it intentionally. I’m no fool.” His eyes darkened as he looked at each of them in turn. “But the truth is, I can make sure everyone thinks you did. It wouldn’t be hard. Either way, you’ll lose everything you hold dear.”

He paused, savoring their growing unease. “If I claim you simply made a grievous mistake, then you’ll be seen as incompetent—an old fool who neglected his duty out of complacency that he got his Devaputras for the throne of Hastinapur, unwittingly sealing the fates of Hastinapura’s heirs. Your position would be lost, your influence over the court tarnished and your judgment would forever be questioned.”