The two warriors clashed blades on the battleground, their swords dancing in a symphony of skill and determination, each move calculated with precision, as the dust of their fierce duel settled on the land.
Clad in battle armours made of metal and leather, they danced around one another intent on winning this duel at any cost.
Tall and stocky, the King of the uprising was a man who was not much accustomed to fighting. It was reflected in the way he used his sword.
His opponent was a head shorter than him, lean, against his stocky frame, and moved like lightning. This was the Commander of Vajragiri - the one who was sent to subdue the uprising.
It was an unequal fight right from the very start. The Commander of Vajragiri was toying with the so called King of the uprising, teasing and taunting him, dragging on the fun.
But after a while, it was enough.
In the midst of clashing steel, a symphony of ringing blades echoed on the battleground. Each parry and thrust was a dance of precision, the warriors' movements a choreography of skill and strategy. The air crackled with tension as sparks flew with every clash, and the dust of the arena bore witness to the intensity of their sword fight.
As the battle unfolded, one warrior found themselves on the losing end, the weight of defeat bearing down as their defenses crumbled against the relentless strikes of their adversary.
He watched helplessly as the sword shattered under the fierce attack of the Commander of Vajragiri. Knowing it was the end, he fell on his knees.
"Mercy Senapati ji, mercy."
The victorious figure halted, and a cruel sneer twisted that helmet covered face.
"Did you have mercy when you took the people of Varang village as your hostages and then killed the children for fun and raped the women for pleasure?"
The voice was cold and menacing, and unmistakably not that of a man.
The king sputtered and almost choked on his saliva. She smirked as she watched the realization dawn on his face and pulled away the headgear, providing her protection in the battle.
"Raja Viraj. Let this be a lesson to you and your chums. I don't forgive my enemies."
"Ra... raaj...kumari." he stuttered at the hard look in her eyes.
"That is Yuvrani for you, Raja Virat. Yuvrani Vanhishikha."
The sword descended like a stroke of lightning, and seconds later, his decapitated head rolled on the dust laden ground.
~~~○●○~~~
Stoic and composed, she turned away from the gruesome scene without a hint of emotion on her face. One down, many more to go.
The weight of her father's teachings echoed in her mind as she contemplated the necessity of suppressing the rebellion. Each step forward bore the heavy burden of a legacy, a reminder that sometimes, the preservation of a kingdom demanded difficult choices and the sacrifice of insurgent forces.
With measured steps, the warrior princess approached the lone horse-riding soldier and the waiting steed. A silent understanding passed between them as she prepared to leave the battlefield, leaving behind the haunting aftermath of the conflict.
Seconds later, they were on their way back to the camp.
"Pallavi would be waiting for us." She remarked in a soft voice.
Her companion nodded, his sharp gaze sweeping across the surroundings, vigilant even in the aftermath of the battle.
"You need to meet the survivors of the battle, Yuvrani"
"That's Rajkumari to you, Vishwajeet." She reminded him as she pulled the reins of her stallion.
"You are the Crown Princess. I can't dishonour you."
Vanhishika turned to gaze at her companion who exuded poise atop his stallion and she couldn't help but marvel at the composure of her personal bodyguard. Despite his age, Vishwajeet Singh held the weighty responsibility as the head of her father's security council with apparent ease.
"That's an order, Vishwajeet."
His silence spoke volumes, neither confirming nor refuting her words. Instead, he redirected the focus, stating, "You need to meet the family and dependents of Raja Viraj." The weight of responsibility and the human aspect of war hung in the air.
With grim necessity lingering in the air, she steeled herself for the task. "I do understand the necessity of it, but I don't like it," she acknowledged.
He smiled softly at the stoic expression on her face. "They have to bear the burden of his decisions, Rajkumari."
"I am not absolving them of their crimes, Vishwajeet. Who knows, they may be a part of his plans. I am irritated that I have to take them under my wing and then wait to find out who among them might be another rebel."
"Are you planning to let them go?"
She glared at him with a fiery anger and snarled, "Have you ever witnessed me displaying clemency?"
His silence was the only response that he gave, his head bowed in submission and she galloped forward.
"This is Dharmakshetra, Vishwajeet. It has no place for compassion."
Her words lingered in the air long after she had left.
~~~○●○~~~
The palace of Vajragiri stood as a majestic symbol of power and heritage. Its towering spires and intricate architecture spoke of a rich history, while the opulent courtyards and grand halls whispered tales of regal gatherings and important decisions. The very essence of Vajragiri's royalty echoed within the walls of this imposing structure.
And in one such hall paced the King of Vajragiri - Maharaj Vajrasen.
The king possessed a commanding presence, his regal stature accentuated by a well-maintained physique. Silver streaks adorned his once-dark hair, framing a face marked with the wisdom of years spent ruling. His eyes, though seasoned, retained a sharp and discerning gaze that hinted at a lifetime of making crucial decisions for his kingdom. Dressed in elaborate royal attire, he carried himself with the dignified grace befitting a ruler.
And right now, this dignified ruler was also a worried father. He had made a tough decesion in sending his only daughter to subdue the rebellion. And though this was not the first such mission for the Princess and she had proved her mettle time and again, a father in him still worried for his daughter.
He concealed his worry expertly, veiling it behind a well-practiced wall of composure. His outward demeanor remained unyielding, betraying no hint of the internal turmoil that sought refuge behind the facade of control.
The arrival of a messenger cut his musings short.
"Maharaj ki jai ho!"
"Kaho."
"Yuvrani Vanhishikha has won the war. She is on her way back to the kingdom with Senapati Pallavi Devi."
A proud smile stretched across his face upon receiving this joyful news, momentarily dispelling any shadows of concern and highlighting a moment of genuine happiness in his regal countenance.
" That is fantastic. Prepare for the celebration in Yuvrani's honour."
Acknowledging the messenger's role in delivering the auspicious news, the King bestowed upon him a golden chain as a token of appreciation. With the reward presented, he hurried inside to share the joyous tidings with the members of the royal family, eager to spread the positive news throughout the palace.
He had a celebration to prepare for.
~~~○●○~~~
Hello People,
So finally the first chapter of Vanhishikha is up. I hope you all like it. Do read, review and vote. They are the fuel for any writer.
I had wanted to include a scene of Vanhishikha dealing with the family and troops of the defeated King but I wasn't so sure about it. So maybe that will come in the next chapter.
Till next time,
Bye.
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