Chapter 241 - 239: Princess Thoughts... God’s Pay Attention...
(A/N):
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Far beneath the sacred Temple of Malikavana village,
Hidden behind layers of ancient stone corridors and massive doors that had remained concealed for generations,
Lay the underground sanctuary prepared long before the war had begun.
Unlike the battlefield above, there were no clashing weapons or thunderous explosions here.
Only the quiet murmur of anxious voices.
The vast underground chamber had become a temporary refuge for those who could not stand upon the battlefield.
Hundreds of villagers from Malikavana sat together in small groups, mothers comforting frightened children while the elderly whispered prayers before small oil lamps placed throughout the cavern.
The royal women of the allied kingdoms occupied another section of the chamber,
Though they had chosen not to isolate themselves from the common people.
In times such as these, the distinction between royalty and ordinary citizens mattered little.
Along every entrance leading into the sanctuary stood heavily armed guards.
Each passage was protected by multiple layers of soldiers, their spears and shields ready at a moment’s notice.
Behind them waited reserve squads prepared to reinforce any section that came under attack.
Even if an enemy somehow discovered the hidden sanctuary, they would have to fight through several defensive lines before reaching the civilians within.
Among those present was Kumara Varma.
Much to his annoyance.
Earlier before the war he had believed he would be riding into battle alongside the allied forces.
Instead, through what he never suspected had been a carefully orchestrated deception, he had been entrusted with the "extremely important responsibility" of protecting the women and children within the hidden sanctuary.
The moment he realized he had been outmaneuvered, he had understood exactly who was responsible.
Devaratha.
Even now, Kumara Varma folded his arms and muttered under his breath.
"...That cunning fox."
Several guards nearby pretended not to hear him.
At the center of the sanctuary,
Queen Devaki sat beside Princess Indhumati and the other royal women.
Although they maintained dignified expressions, every passing moment weighed heavily upon them.
Until...
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the chamber.
A captain of the royal guard hurried inside, still wearing armor stained with dust from the battlefield.
Upon reaching the royal family, he respectfully bowed before King Padmanabha’s queen.
"Your Majesty."
Queen Devaki immediately rose.
"Speak."
The captain nodded.
-Nod!
"The first day’s battle has concluded."
The entire chamber seemed to hold its breath.
"The allied armies successfully held every defensive line."
A wave of relief spread through the gathered civilians.
The captain continued his report.
"Our casualties, though regrettable, were considerably lower than those suffered by the Rakshasa forces. Along with our king and prince, Lord Hanuman, King Devaratha, His Mahamantri Shakuni and his general Ashwatthama each halted the enemy’s advance in their respective sectors."
He paused before adding,
"Two of Pushpasura’s Battle Generals were slain during today’s fighting, while another narrowly escaped death after Pushpasura himself intervened."
A murmur of astonishment spread throughout the chamber.
The villagers looked at one another with renewed hope.
If even the fearsome Battle Generals could fall...
Perhaps the war was not as hopeless as they had feared.
"The first day..."
The captain concluded with visible pride,
"...ended in our favor."
The oppressive atmosphere that had filled the sanctuary since dawn finally loosened.
Some villagers closed their eyes in gratitude, offering silent prayers to the gods.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Others embraced their loved ones.
Queen Devaki released a long breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.
Beside her, Princess Indhumati’s eyes glistened with relief.
Unable to contain her emotions, she stepped forward and embraced her mother tightly.
Queen Devaki returned the embrace without hesitation, gently stroking her daughter’s hair.
"For today..."
She whispered softly.
"...they are safe."
Indhumati nodded against her mother’s shoulder.
-Nod!
"Yes..."
When they finally separated, a gentle smile lingered on the princess’s face.
Almost unconsciously, her gaze drifted toward her own hand.
There...
Faintly visible against her fair skin...
Remained the imprint of a hand.
Her fingertips slowly traced over it.
The memory returned as vividly as though it had happened only moments ago.
Earlier before the war began...
Determined to follow Devaratha despite his warnings, she had slipped away from the palace.
Before she could go any farther, he had suddenly caught hold of her wrist, pulling her into the shelter of an abandoned house before anyone else could notice.
She still remembered the firmness of his grip.
Not painful. Not rough.
Simply strong enough to stop her reckless decision.
For reasons she herself couldn’t explain...
The place where his hand had held hers still felt strangely warm.
As though the memory itself had refused to fade.
Without realizing it, she gently brushed her thumb across the faint handprint once more.
A small smile unconsciously formed upon her lips.
Queen Devaki noticed the gesture from the corner of her eye.
She glanced at her daughter, then at the hand she was absentmindedly caressing.
The queen said nothing.
She simply smiled ever so slightly before returning her attention to the captain’s report, leaving the princess alone with the warmth of a memory she could neither understand...
...nor bring herself to let go.
Next Day...
The first rays of dawn slowly emerged over the horizon, bathing Malikavana in a golden glow that chased away the darkness of the previous night.
Dew clung to the scorched earth, settling upon shattered weapons and broken chariots that still remained where they had fallen during the first day’s battle.
For a fleeting moment, the battlefield appeared almost peaceful, as though the land itself had forgotten the bloodshed that had stained it only hours before.
That illusion lasted only until the armies began to move.
From the eastern front, the allied forces marched into formation with remarkable discipline.
Regiment after regiment advanced across the plain, their synchronized footsteps echoing through the valley.
Long lines of infantry took their positions behind towering shield walls, cavalry assembled upon both flanks, elephant divisions stood ready behind the first ranks, while countless archers calmly prepared their bows.
The banners of Pushkarniya, Trivenivrata and the allied kingdoms fluttered proudly in the cool morning breeze.
Across the battlefield...
The Rakshasa army answered.
An endless sea of dark armor emerged from the mist, stretching so far that its rear ranks disappeared into the forest of Malikavana.
Grotesque war beasts snarled impatiently while massive drums thundered like the heartbeat of some ancient monster awakening from its slumber.
Crimson banners bearing Pushpasura’s emblem rose one after another until the horizon itself seemed painted red.
Neither side uttered a word.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Thousands upon thousands of warriors simply stood facing one another, waiting for the signal that would plunge them back into chaos.
As the sun finally climbed above the horizon, standard bearers from both armies stepped forward.
With practiced precision...
Both flags were raised.
The banners danced proudly beneath the morning sky.
A heartbeat later...
They were lowered simultaneously.
VOOOOOOOOOOM!!
The deep, ancient cry of a conch shell rolled across Malikavana.
Almost immediately...
Another answered from the opposite side.
The conches of both armies sounded together, their thunderous notes colliding in the heavens and echoing across mountains, forests and rivers alike.
Every warrior felt the sound resonate deep within their chest.
The second day of the War of Malikavana...
Had begun.
Yet unlike the previous morning...
Something was different.
Before either army...
Two solitary chariots stood apart from their respective formations.
Upon one stood the King of Trivenivrata.
Devaratha rested calmly atop the Vajravyaghra Rath, the four celestial saber-toothed tigers pawing at the earth beneath them.
Their golden eyes never left the figure waiting across the battlefield, while Rudhirabhra rested securely in Devaratha’s grasp.
His expression remained tranquil, betraying neither excitement nor anxiety.
Far opposite him...
Another chariot waited.
Its wheels appeared to have been carved from black stone, while grotesque beasts with burning crimson eyes pulled it forward.
Standing upon it was Pushpasura, his enormous axe resting against his shoulder as an overwhelming aura spread from his body.
Unlike yesterday...
Neither king intended to concern himself with anyone else.
The moment the battle commenced...
Every warrior understood exactly what would happen.
Devaratha...
Would face...
Pushpasura.
The clash everyone had anticipated since the beginning of the war was no longer a matter of speculation.
It was inevitable.
And not only mortals awaited its outcome.
...
Far beyond the earthly realm...
The countless Lokas turned their attention toward Malikavana.
Celestial beings who ordinarily remained detached from mortal conflicts now watched in silence, for the war unfolding below carried consequences that extended far beyond a single kingdom.
In Amaravati, the Devas gathered upon crystal balconies overlooking divine mirrors that reflected the battlefield in perfect clarity.
In the realms of the Maharishis, countless sages paused their meditation, opening their eyes to witness history unfold.
Even the guardians of distant Lokas silently observed the confrontation between the two kings.
Atop the eternal peaks of
The atmosphere was unusually solemn.
Lord Shiva sat peacefully upon his tiger skin, his eyes fixed upon the divine vision before him.
Beside him sat Goddess Parvati, her gaze never once leaving the figure of Devaratha standing upon the Vajravyaghra Rath.
"...."
Around them gathered the entire divine family.
Lord Ganesha watched thoughtfully, one hand resting upon his knee.
Lord Kartikeya stood with his spear in hand, his warrior’s eyes carefully studying the battlefield.
Beside him stood his two consorts.
Ashoka Sundari remained silent, her attention wholly absorbed by the unfolding events.
Jyoti and Manasa likewise observed the battlefield without distraction, fully aware that what transpired below would shape the future of Bharata.
Among them all...
Only Goddess Parvati found it difficult to hide the concern within her heart.
No matter how extraordinary Devaratha had become...
No matter how many victories he had earned...
To her...
He was still her son.
Her fingers unconsciously tightened around the edge of her garment as she watched him stand alone before the King of the Rakshasas.
A mother’s heart cared little for prophecies or destiny.
It simply wished for her child to return safely.
Sensing her concern, Lord Shiva slowly turned toward her.
He said nothing.
He merely placed a reassuring hand over hers.
His calm smile carried a quiet certainty that needed no words.
Parvati met his gaze before looking back toward Malikavana, silently praying that the day would end with her son still standing.
The same scene unfolded elsewhere.
In
Lord Brahma watched the battlefield with profound attention,
While beside him Goddess Saraswati’s serene expression carried a mother’s unmistakable concern.
Though she remained composed, her eyes never wandered from Devaratha’s figure.
Far away in
Beside him...
Goddess Lakshmi watched in silence.
"...."
The gentle smile that usually adorned her face had faded, replaced by quiet worry as she looked upon Devaratha.
Like Parvati and Saraswati, she was no longer watching as a goddess alone.
She was watching...
As a mother.
Across the Three Worlds, kings, sages, Devas and celestial beings all fixed their eyes upon a single battlefield.
"...."
"...."
"...."
For they knew...
The clash between Devaratha and Pushpasura would not merely decide the fate of Malikavana.
It would become a battle remembered across the ages.
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(Author note:)
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