The night had deepened, yet sleep evaded Kunti.
In her private chamber, she stood by the flickering oil lamp, hands clasped tightly, as though holding herself together. Her eyes were red, not from age, but from the heaviness of decades—of choices made, of sons lost and found, of truths buried under royal duties.
A soft knock interrupted her silence.
She turned.
It was Krishna.
His eyes, calm as the Yamuna's surface under moonlight, met hers. "May I come in, Mata?"
Kunti let out a weary breath. "Krishna… of course."
He entered, walking silently as though even his feet respected her burden. Without a word, he sat beside her.
"I had a visitor tonight," she said, her voice low. "Your sister."
Krishna's gaze softened. "So she came to you after speaking to Vaikartana."
Kunti looked at him, surprised. "You knew?"
"I knew she had love enough to stand beside Arjun… and grace enough to reach for Karna."
A silence stretched between them.
Then, Kunti's voice cracked. "I was only sixteen, Krishna. Unwed. Frightened. What could I do? The world that revered Surya as a god would've burned me for bearing his son."
Krishna listened, his hand resting gently on hers.
"I abandoned him," she whispered, ashamed. "I named him Karna… but I never got to call him that freely. I watched from afar as he grew, suffered, and became what the world never let him forget—an outcast."
Her eyes welled up. "Now… now he knows. And he still stands with Duryodhana. I… I don't even know what to wish for anymore."
Krishna remained silent for a moment, then said gently, "Mata, you were a girl in a world that forgave men for sins but punished women for innocence. You made a choice—to survive. That was not weakness."
Kunti shook her head. "But a mother's duty is to her child."
"And you did what every mother does in a cruel world—what she must, even if it breaks her."
Kunti finally let the tears fall.
Krishna continued, "Subhadra did not go to Karna out of pity. She went because she saw in him not a rival, but a reflection—of another person trapped by dharma's unfair weight."
"She told me," Kunti murmured. "That I was human. That my pain didn't make me less of a mother."
Krishna smiled faintly. "She's wiser than she looks."
He stood then, his peacock feather catching the lamplight.
"You gave this world six sons, Mata. Some you raised, some you lost. But you loved them all. And love—" he looked out at the moonlit courtyard—"has a way of bringing people home."
---
Far from the chamber, under the flowering trees by the old archery grounds, two figures stood beneath the moonlit sky. Arjun faced Karna, the wind tousling his curls, but his voice was steady.
"I didn't bring you here for a fight, Angraj Karna," Arjun said quietly. "I brought you here because I'm tired of seeing you act like stone."
Karna raised an eyebrow. "Stone?"
"Yes. Cold, unmoved… untouched. Even now, when the truth has been revealed—when your mother weeps in silence—you shut everyone out."
Karna's jaw tensed. "You don't get to ask that of me. Not after everything."
Arjun took a slow breath, eyes flickering with an emotion he rarely showed. "You think I haven't paid the price? I remember the moment I killed you. I remember that arrow piercing your chest… your eyes meeting mine—not with hatred, but with quiet acceptance."
Arjun knew the result of their enmity.Karna Didn't.
"I didn't want it to end like that.Not then.Not now," Arjun said, his voice barely above a whisper.Karna couldn't hear what he said.
" I'm not here to win an argument. I'm here to ask you… to be my brother."
Karna turned away, as if shielding his face from the weight of that word. "You want me to leave Duryodhana? Forsake the man who gave me dignity when no one else would?"
"I want you to fight for yourself, for what's rightfully yours. You're the eldest, Karna. The throne was yours by birth."
"And Bhishma?" Karna asked bitterly. "Do you think he'll ever accept me? The son of a charioteer? Not even Pandu's blood would be enough to cleanse me in his eyes."
Arjun's silence stretched between them.
Karna looked back at him. "Even if the world changes… Bhishma will not. He'll never name me successor."
And in that moment, Arjun realized the war wasn't just against Duryodhana or against fate.
It was against centuries of shackles.