Scene: Subhadra's Longing—
Nights in Dwaraka had grown colder since the fire.
Subhadra stood at her balcony, the sea breeze tugging at her silks, eyes locked on the stars. Sleep had become a stranger. Dreams of a warrior with calm eyes and a crooked smile haunted her mind—dreams that felt more like memories.
She clutched the edge of her dupatta. "He's not dead," she whispered. "I would feel it."
Each prayer was for Arjun. Each breath was a plea to the gods. Her heart ached with a kind of longing that refused to be silenced.
Far away, Krishna looked toward the same sky.
"Soon," he murmured.
---
Scene: Panchal Before the Storm—
The kingdom of Panchal glittered with celebration.
The Swayamvar of Princess Draupadi was not just a ceremony. It was a message to the world: Panchal was rising, and with it, the daughter of fire would choose a man worthy of legends.
Marigolds spilled like sunlight across the palace gates. Conches echoed through the air. Kings and warriors from across Aryavarta gathered, their retinues lining the gilded halls.
Draupadi sat in her chamber, a strange restlessness blooming in her chest. Her maids bustled about, preparing her for ceremonies and blessings. But her mind drifted to that quiet temple. To that man.
Later that day, as she passed through a corridor, she noticed a portrait among the many depictions of famed warriors. Her steps slowed.
It was him.
His eyes were unmistakable. The same intensity. The same sorrow.
She stared for a long moment, then picked up a brush.
With mischievous precision, she painted a thick beard and a curling moustache on his face.
"There," she murmured. "Now you look like the man from the temple."
A maid nearby whispered, "Princess... that is Arjun of the Pandavas. He's dead."
Her heart skipped.
Draupadi said nothing, but her fingers trembled.
She suddenly wasn't so sure about the stories anymore.
---
Scene: Arrival of Destiny
Dressed as wandering Brahmins, Arjun and Bheem entered the capital of Panchal.
Dust clung to their robes. Silence cloaked their steps. But their eyes took in everything.
The buzz of warriors preparing for the Swayamvar. The tension. The grandeur. The archery target standing tall in the center.
Bheem grunted. "You sure this will work, brother?You did not even tell me your motive before"
Arjun smiled beneath his cowl. "We're not here to win. We're here to answer a call."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, four chariots rolled in with thunderous pride.
Karna.
Duryodhana.
Shakuni.
Dushasana.
All dressed in regal finery. Karna's face was unreadable. His heart, not so much.
He saw the grand archery bow resting in the center of the Swayamvar grounds and felt a pang.
"If he's alive," Karna whispered to himself, "I will know."
And in the distance, under the same sky, destiny prepared to unveil her grandest act.
---