(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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The pond shimmered quietly.
Two boys stood facing a tree—Marked with fresh green streaks.
Karna had prepared it himself.
Quick. Efficient.
"Five steps back each time. First to miss loses."
Simple rules.
But behind his eyes—A spark.
Devara paused for a second as he realized what he was missing. Scratched his head.
-Scratch!
"…I don't have a bow."
From behind—A guard stepped forward silently.
"...."
Offering his own bow which is typically short compared to others since he was keeping as his any emergency that required it.
Respectful. Wordless.
How can he let a prince be embarrassed here before the public.
Devara took it.
"…Thanks."
While Karna went to retrieve his spare bow from their cart.
After few minutes...
Karna returned—With his spare handmade bow.
Less refined from his pervious hand made one which he broke earlier. But familiar.
They stood in position.
Same age. Same height.
Karna moved first. No hesitation.
"...."
Arrow nocked. Drawn. Released.
-TWANG!
The arrow flew straight—And struck the center.
Clean. Precise.
He turned slightly. Looking at Devara.
"...."
Not pride—Just expectation.
Devara picked up the arrow. Placed it on the string.
And something—Clicked.
"...."
His body adjusted in a right way.
Grip aligned to a comfortable position.
Posture corrected for the proper stability.
Not learned. Remembered.
As if he already knew about it.
His Supreme Mastery Talent awakened quietly.
The breeze passed.
His hair shifted gently. His eyes locked on the mark.
The world narrowed.
Just—Him.
The bow. The target.
-TWANG!!!
The arrow shot forward.
Not just straight—Perfect.
Dead center as the arrow viberates after hitting the target.
Karna's eyes widened slightly.
"...."
Step by step—They moved back.
As the game continued.
Five steps. Then again. And again.
Arrows flew from their bow and hit the target.
One after another.
Karna's approach was consistent, Focused, Driven.
Devara's approach was effortless, Adaptive, Precise.
The distance grew as the game continued.
The air resisted. The margin shrank.
Karna stepped forward.
One last shot.
He drew the string—Harder than before.
-TWANG!!!
The arrow flew—But dipped. Falling short.
Striking the ground.
Not because of poor aiming but due to the bow's limitation.
Silence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Devara stepped forward.
Calm. Drew the bow's string.
Released.
-THUD!!!
Dead center the arrow once again hit the dead center.
Which ended the game in the favor of Devara.
Karna stared at the target. Then at Devara.
"...."
Not angry. Not upset.
But—Thinking.
[–DUM!–DUM!–]
🎯 [Task Completed...]
[Defeated Karna in archery game
➤ +150 Karma Points Formed bond of respect
➤ +50 Karma Points.]
⚖️ [Karma Balance Updated...]
[4725 + 200= 4825]
Total increased…
Devara blinked and was happy as he neared the target.
-Blink!
"…Nice."
Karna exhaled slowly losing his first archer battle.
-Sigh!
Then—A small smile.
"You're good."
Simple. Honest.
Devara grinned hearing Karna's praise.
-Grin!
"You too."
The wind softened.
The pond returned to stillness.
And in that quiet—Karna stepped closer. Eyes shining.
"...."
Not with defeat—But wonder.
"Did you train in the palace?"
Devara tilted his head. Then shook it.
"No."
A pause.
"Today was the first time I used a bow."
Silence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Karna blinked. Once. Twice. In shock.
-Blink! -Blink!
"...."
Then slowly turned—Looking at Devara like he had just said something absurd.
"…Really?"
Because he knew. How hard it was.
The hours.
The failed shots. The bruised fingers.
And yet—This boy…
Devara nodded casually.
-Nod!
"Yeah. My mother doesn't let me touch dangerous things."
Karna stared. Processing. Struggling.
"...."
Because this wasn't just talent—This was something else.
Then—Devara looked at him.
Properly this time with a smile.
Not as an opponent. But as someone worth seeing.
"You're good."
Karna froze hearing it.
"...."
"You have talent."
A pause.
"You can become one of the strongest archers."
Karna didn't respond immediately.
Because—This was new.
No one had said that before. Not seriously. Not like this.
His ears turned slightly red.
Eyes shifting away.
"…Oh."
He didn't know how to react.
So he didn't.
Devara continued—
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"You should find a guru."
"A good one."
Karna nodded slowly.
-Nod!
Already listening. Already imagining.
Then—Devara added his suggestion.
"Try… Lord Parashurama."
Karna's eyes widened hearing the name.
He had heard a lot about him.
"...."
"He's very strong. And knows a lot."
Then Devara's tone shifted.
Slightly. Not serious—But clear.
"But don't lie to him."
Karna blinked confused thinking why would he lie to a guru who he was going to learn under.
-Blink!
"Especially about who you are."
A pause.
"That kind of thing…"
"…comes back later. To bite you to death."
Karna listened. Completely.
"...."
Every word sinking in.
Because this wasn't just advice.
It felt—Important. Somehow he had that feeling.
His eyes lit up again. Not with confusion now—But vision.
'…Learning under Lord Parashurama… Becoming strong…'
For the first time—The path ahead felt real.
Devara smiled slightly.
"...."
Because he knew—What he had just changed.
A lie avoided. A curse prevented.
If Karna follows his advice.
A fate—Redirected.
One of the shackles that bound him would never exists in the first place.
The moment lingered.
Two boys were chatting besides a quiet pond.
Then—A guard stepped forward.
Respectful. Firm.
"Prince… It is time."
Devara turned to look at the guard. Slightly reluctant.
"Rajmata has instructed your return. Anna-dāna is about to begin."
Devara paused hearing it.
"…Oh."
He turned back to Karna.
"I'll go now."
Simple. No drama.
Karna nodded his head.
-Nod
But didn't speak immediately.
Because something told him his feeling—This wasn't just a random meeting.
They might meet again in the future.
He wanted to say something.
"...."
Ask something.
But—Didn't know what.
So instead—He just said.
"…I'll become strong."
Devara grinned hearing Karna's declaration.
-Grin!
"Yeah. Do that."
And with that—He turned. Walking away. But someone else—Had been watching.
Silently. Carefully.
"...."
Hidden behind distance—A figure stood.
A woman. Face covered.
Eyes sharp. Unreadable.
In her hand—A staff.
Worn. But steady.
Her gaze never left Devara.
'…Is that him? …The one, …Mahadev spoke of…'
A pause.
Her grip tightened slightly.
'…The boy who can change her fate…'
Her eyes narrowed.
'…The one who can help me…'
Revenge. A quiet fire. Burning beneath years of silence.
And at its center—A single target.
Bhishma.
She didn't step forward.
Didn't reveal herself. Not yet.
As Devara returned to the Kuru Palace.
Kuru Palace...
The great hall breathed with life.
Rows of guests seated on the floor.
Banana leaves spread like green canvases.
Food served generously—Rice, ghee, sweets, vegetables—A feast worthy of kings… yet given to all.
At the center of it—The newly wedded brides moved gracefully: Kunti, Madri and Sulabha.
Serving with humility.
Because today—Royalty fed the world.
Devara entered quietly—But was quickly pulled beside Satyavati,
Her hand resting lightly on his shoulder.
Keeping him close.
Watching. Always watching.
Among hundreds—One stood out.
A woman. Face veiled.
Still.
Her banana leaf—Untouched.
Not a grain disturbed.
And her eyes—Never left Devara.
Just as Satyavati and Devara passed—
-GRAB.
Her hand shot forward.
Gripping Devara's wrist.
Tight. Unyielding.
The hall froze.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Satyavati's expression hardened instantly.
"Release him. Who are you?"
But Devara—Didn't react with fear. Didn't pull away.
Instead—He looked down.
"...."
At the untouched food. Then back at her.
"Why aren't you eating? Is the food not tasty?"
Innocent. Genuine. The contrast—Was jarring.
The woman laughed. Low. Sharp.
-Hahaha!!!
Unfitting for the sacred hall.
And just like that—Every eye turned.
"...."
"...."
"...."
From across the hall—Bhishma stepped forward.
Followed by Vidura.
And the princes.
The air changed. Not festive anymore.
Danger.
She didn't answer Devara. Didn't look at Satyavati.
"...."
Her gaze remained—Locked on him.
Analyzing. Measuring.
Her grip tightened slightly on Devara's wrist.
Not enough to hurt. But enough to claim attention.
Guards moved. Weapons ready.
To confront the offender.
Bhishma's voice cut through—
"Who are you?"
Silence followed.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Heavy.
And in that silence—The woman slowly tilted her head.
Then spoke with a amused tone.
"Interesting…"
A pause.
"…Very interesting."
Her voice—Calm. But layered.
The laughter faded into silence.
Then—
A trembling voice broke through.
"…Amba…?"
Ambika stood frozen.
"...."
"...."
Beside her—Ambalika. Eyes wide. Uncertain.
Afraid. She might be misunderstood.
Because some voices—Don't fade.
No matter how many years pass.
"Amba."
The name spread like a crack in glass.
Every conversation died. Every movement stopped.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Even Bhishma. Went still. And Vidura. Watched carefully.
The veiled woman paused. Then slowly—Turned.
"...."
Her eyes met her sisters'. A strange smile formed.
"Ah… So even after all these years …you recognized me."
She chuckled lightly.
-Chuckle!
But—No one laughed.
Her hand rose. The veil fell to the ground revealing the face.
And there she stood—Amba
Not broken. Not forgotten.
But—Forged.
Bhishma's gaze sharpened. Voice steady. Unyielding.
"Why are you here?"
A pause.
"Shouldn't you be performing tapas… to fulfill your vow?"
The air tightened.
Because everyone knew—What that vow meant.
Amba sneered. Not loudly. But sharply.
-Sneer!
"You still speak of dharma …as if it absolves you."
Her eyes burned.
Years of pain—Condensed into a single glance.
Then—She looked away from Bhishma.
And toward—Devara.
A boy. Standing calmly. Watching everything.
Devara's expression softened.
"...."
Because he knew.
In his past life—This was another story that hurt.
Another life—Broken by fate.
'…Amba…'
Not just a name. A tragedy.
Amba's expression changed.
Subtly.
She crouched down.
"...."
Lowering herself—To Devara's height.
The hall tensed. Because this—Was unexpected.
Her voice softened.
Not weak—But controlled.
"Do you want to hear a story?"
A pause.
"About a princess …who lost everything overnight…"
Her gaze flickered briefly toward Bhishma.
"…because of a man's ego… and his version of dharma."
Devara looked at her. Quiet. Understanding.
He already knew the story.
Every part of it.
But still—He nodded.
-Nod!
Because this time—He wasn't just hearing it.
He was going to change it.
The hall dimmed… not by light—but by memory
Amba didn't tell the story. She relived it.
Her voice softened—but carried weight.
"Once… there were three princesses of Kashi…"
Amba,
Ambika ,
Ambalika.
Daughters of the proud king of Kashi.
Raised with grace. Strength. And dreams.
"A grand swayamvara[1] was arranged…"
Kings. Warriors. Princes from across the land.
All gathered. To win their hands.
But Amba… Was different.
Her eyes softened. For just a moment.
"I had already chosen …Prince Salva."
No hesitation. No confusion.
Her heart—Had already decided.
Then—Her tone changed. Sharpened.
"And then …he came."
Bhishma
"He didn't come to compete…"
"…He came to take us to Hastinapur."
Bhishma stood alone—Against all.
And won.
Not with effort. Not with struggle.
With overwhelming might.
Kings fell. Warriors failed.
Even Salva who fearlessly stepped forward.
"He tried to stop him…"
Amba's voice trembled slightly.
"He challenged him… But Bhishma… didn't even fight properly."
No astras. No arrows. Were used.
Just—A pull of the bow's string.
A release. A wave.
Salva—Thrown back by it.
Hit the wall. Broken. Defeated.
"We were brought here…"
Like trophies. For prince Vichitravirya to marry.
"I told them… I loved someone else."
A pause.
"And for once… They listened."
Under Satyavati's order—Amba was sent back.
Hope returned. For a moment.
Her voice dropped like she was remembering a nightmare.
"I went to him… to prince Salva."
A pause.
"And he…"
Silence. Heavy.
"...."
"...."
"...."
"…rejected me. He said… I had been taken by another man. Won in battle."
Her hands clenched.
"His pride… His dharma …would not allow it. I couldn't return home. I couldn't stay there. I belonged nowhere."
The hall was silent.
No whispers. No movement.
Because this—Was not just a story.
It was a wound. Still bleeding.
Amba didn't pause.
She continued—But this time—There was no softness left.
Only fire.
"So I returned…"
Her eyes shifted briefly toward Bhishma
"…to the man who won me."
Amba didn't pause.
She continued—But this time—There was no softness left.
Only fire.
"So I returned…"
Her eyes shifted briefly toward Bhishma
"…to the man who won me. I asked him to marry me."
A pause.
"And he refused."
Because of a vow. A promise.
A chain he chose.
"Then he turned to his brother…"
Vichitravirya
"He refused too."
The hall felt colder.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Because this wasn't fate anymore. This was abandonment in sequence.
Silence.
Then—Bhishma spoke. Calm. Unshaken.
"If you believe injustice was done…"
"Seek my guru[2] Parashurama."
No apology. No hesitation.
Just—A solution.
Amba exhaled slowly.
"So I went."
Days. Weeks.
Alone. Driven by anger.
By humiliation. By loss. Until she found him.
Lord Parashurama.
"I told him everything… Every humiliation. Every rejection."
But—She smiled bitterly.
"He didn't believe me at first."
So—Parashurama.
Came here. To Hastinapur. To ask Bhishma directly.
And Bhishma—Didn't deny it.
"He said it was true."
And then—The world shook.
Not for her. Not for justice.
But for principles.
One fought for her cause. One fought for his vow.
Days turned into nights. Nights into weeks. Weeks into months.
Neither yielding. Neither breaking.
Until—Lord Shiva intervened.
The fight—Stopped midfight.
Not resolved. Not settled.
Just—Stopped.
Amba's voice dropped. Almost hollow now.
"Even he…"
A pause.
"…couldn't give me justice."
Silence. Heavy.
"...."
"...."
"...."
She looked at Bhishma again.
"And then… He gave me one more path. Do tapas to Mahadev [3] …and find my own answer."
A faint, bitter smile.
"So the man who caused it… gave me the burden to fix it."
Her gaze shifted back to Devara.
"So tell me, child… Was that justice? Or just… convenience dressed as dharma?"
The hall didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Waiting for Devara's answer.
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(Author note:)
I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea's.
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review!!! And power stone too!!!
Guys it will motivate me more?
[1] event where mens show their strength to win over the princess
[2] teacher
[3] Lord Shiva