Chapter 78: Weddings and Whispers
The golden rays of dawn spread across the barren battlefield that now breathed anew. With the winds carrying the songs of freedom and Bhudevi's blessings still echoing in the air, Rudra stood tall—his arms crossed, gaze resting on the ten-thousand-strong Bhumi Sena and their newly chosen brides.
He addressed them with pride and solemnity.
"Brothers of Bhumi, daughters of dignity... you are no longer prisoners of your past. From today, you are families. Together, you will travel to Mahishmati, where I will personally oversee your union."
Cheers erupted.
Rudra's voice grew firmer.
"Not just that. Once you arrive, the Mountain Brothers will be granted the title of Throne's Trident—the royal elite guard. You will stand as the final protectors of Mahishmati's sovereignty, reporting directly to the throne and answering to no other power."
The Bhumi Sena banged their trishuls on the earth in unison, the sound echoing like war drums. It was their oath.
Rudra turned, his eyes now softer. Beside him stood Satyabhama, clad in regal blue. Though fierce in battle, now she looked as any daughter returning home—eager, teary, proud.
"Come," Rudra said, gesturing.
He summoned the Rudhira Rath, the mystical chariot birthed of earth and blood. The thunderous red steeds neighed, their bodies still glowing faintly from the fury of war.
They ascended, and within moments, the divine chariot disappeared into the winds.
---
In the Kingdom of Satrajit — Later That Day
The streets were filled with commotion as the Rudhira Rath descended. Citizens gasped in awe and delight, recognizing both the mystical chariot and the warrior who rode it.
Satyabhama stepped down, safe and whole.
Her family rushed forward—King Satrajit, her sisters Prasvapini and Vratini, royal ministers, guards—all overwhelmed.
Satrajit folded his hands.
"Thank you, O Rudra. You have brought back not just my daughter but our honor."
Rudra nodded humbly.
After brief conversations and reassurances, Rudra gently said,
"With your permission, Maharaj, I will now take my leave. There are preparations to be made in Mahishmati."
Satrajit, already briefed by Surya Dev in his dream, merely smiled.
"As promised, my Lord. You are free to call upon your favor when needed."
Satyabhama wanted to speak. Her lips parted... but the words wouldn't come. She just watched him. Watched as he mounted his chariot. Watched as he looked back once. Watched as he disappeared into the horizon.
Prasvapini nudged her.
"Oh ho, look at her face! The warrior princess is now a lovesick maiden."
Vratini giggled.
"It's that voice of his... and those eyes... and that aura... oh, come on, Bhama! Say something!"
Satyabhama finally exhaled, whispering softly,
"He left... but he took something from me."
---
Meanwhile — In a Cave, Shrouded in Darkness
Far away from the sunlight and songs of union, a different kind of assembly took place.
The cave was enormous—its ceiling hidden in shadow, walls pulsing with runic carvings and glowing sigils. A triangle of three cloaked figures sat around a low, circular pit, from which green and black flames rose gently.
The voice of the First Figure, old and grave, broke the silence:
"Narakasura is no more."
A ripple of murmurs followed.
"Once again," the voice continued, "our ancient seed of darkness... extinguished by him. The same Rudra who ended the Abhichaari Dynasty, the same one who crushed the Asura Clans of the Eastern Ghats..."
Another figure hissed:
"We were warned of the dangers in this Yuga. We foresaw the rise of Krishna. But nowhere... nowhere was this Rudra written!"
A third voice, feminine, cold and sharp:
"Our texts are flawed. The stars hid him. Even the Tantra Scrolls whispered only shadows."
The fire in the center flared violently. The First Figure now spoke with urgency:
"What is the progress on the Grand Ritual?"
The second figure—young, prideful—chuckled.
"Only a few more nights. The circles are aligned. The seals are nearly broken. Once the final chakra ignites... we will ascend."
A pause. Then the First Figure leaned in.
"Ensure that Rudra does not find out. His interference... would be the death of us."
Someone laughed.
"Relax. Right now, he's drunk on victory and glory. He won't notice a thing."
Another voice growled:
"You underestimate him. Already he has humbled Vayu, tamed Bhudevi's wrath, and resurrected a legion from earth. We are not yet whole. If he finds us now—"
The First Figure raised a hand.
"Then we must be cautious. Work from shadows. Delay his awareness. Distract him if necessary."
Finally, the third voice—young, charismatic, arrogant—said:
"Begin summoning the others. The Circle of Three must grow into the Circle of Eight."
"Only then can the Binding Ritual succeed."
A unified chant echoed softly:
"Jyotir Ma Tamaso Gamaya... let light be devoured."
And the flames pulsed darker.
As the meeting dissolved, the First Figure whispered one last warning:
"This is our final chance. This age will never come again. If we fail now... we are lost forever."
Chapter Ends...