Chapter 93: Veins of Water, Threads of Illusion
The training courtyard of Mahishmati buzzed with life as the sun cast golden rays upon its polished stone floor. Morning winds carried the echoes of clashing weapons, fierce breaths, and the crisp sound of Ishita's voice.
Dushala stood confidently in front of Ishita, her twin swords gleaming. She moved with precision and clarity, her expressions fierce but disciplined. Ishita watched with narrowed eyes, nodding subtly at her student's form.
"Your blade control is excellent, Dushala," Ishita said, walking toward her. "But your transitions still need refinement. A true warrior never breaks flow, even for a blink."
Dushala bowed respectfully. "Yes, Didi. I will keep practicing."
On the other end of the field, Subhadra stood in silence, holding a spear awkwardly. Her face was tense with frustration. Sweat beaded her forehead, and her breaths were uneven.
Ishita turned toward her. "Subhadra, again. Show me the grip."
Subhadra clumsily raised the weapon, but her posture was wrong. The moment she moved, the spear slipped from her grasp and clattered to the ground. She frowned, clearly embarrassed. Dushala winced in sympathy.
"I am trying..." Subhadra muttered under her breath.
Ishita exhaled deeply. "Subhadra, come sit with me."
The three women settled under the shade of a flowering neem tree. Ishita reached into the folds of her robe and pulled out a small crystal sphere—the Karma Mani.
"This is not to shame you, Subhadra. Everyone has a strength, but not all strengths lie in weapons," Ishita said softly.
The orb glowed faintly as she chanted, and slowly images began swirling within: A stormy illusion cloaking an enemy's mind, a battlefield turned chaotic by invisible tricks, warriors struck down by hallucinations.
Ishita's eyes widened. "You are a daughter of illusion. You have an innate affinity for Maya Vidya—the divine art of manipulating perception."
Subhadra blinked. "Maya... like illusions?"
"Yes. But illusions with purpose," Ishita explained. "A well-timed illusion can shatter a formation. Confuse a Maharathi. It is an art as powerful as any sword."
Dushala clapped gently, her smile encouraging. Subhadra looked visibly relieved.
For the next few days, Ishita tailored her lessons accordingly. While Dushala honed her dual-wielding skills, Subhadra learned the art of mental focus, visualization, and subtle prana weaving. She practiced creating false shadows, mirages, and phantom noises. Her progress was swift, and her eyes began to carry a spark of quiet confidence.
---
Meanwhile, in the Royal Sabha Hall, the atmosphere was still and dignified. Rudra sat upon the central throne-like seat, draped in golden attire, his face serene yet alert. The walls of the hall were adorned with maps, scrolls, and armaments.
Suresh Pratap, Varun, Arun, Dhoomketu, Vijay Raj, and Veer stood around him, each reporting updates regarding training, grain distribution, diplomacy, and border movements.
Rudra closed his eyes, absorbing all the information. Just then, a deep, celestial voice rang through the air, stopping every word and freezing every thought.
"Akashvani: A new Maharathi walks the realm. The heavens rejoice. The warrior has awakened to her true might. She shall be known from this day as 'Jal Vinashini'—The Water Disaster."
A radiant vibration passed through the hearts of all present. Rudra's eyes snapped open. The ministers looked around, stunned.
Suresh Pratap murmured, "Jal Vinashini? From where? Certainly not Mahishmati..."
Rudra shook his head. "No... this is someone else."
---
In the training grounds, the Kuru princes were equally stunned. Yudhishthir looked up, hand on his heart.
"So... this is what it feels like," he whispered. "To have the heavens call your name."
Duryodhan gritted his teeth, eyes filled with ambition. "I will reach there too. No matter how long it takes."
Arjun was quiet but thoughtful. Karna, standing beside him, looked toward Rudra's palace and said, "That voice was real. The heavens have acknowledged her."
Subhadra, having just completed a successful illusion test, was struck silent. She looked at Dushala, who was equally astonished.
"Will we... also be like her?" Subhadra asked.
Dushala smiled softly. "Not the same, but strong in our own ways."
---
In a distant cave, wrapped in shadows and thick with incense smoke, the robed figure of the evil priest twitched. His eyes opened wide.
"Another Maharathi?" he hissed. "Tch! These vermin are growing faster than expected."
The Bloodthirsty Mammoth growled from the shadows, and the slim assassin who held the Backstabber daggers sharpened his blades with manic focus.
"Let them rise," the priest smirked. "They are unknowingly preparing for our arrival."
---
Back in Mahishmati, Ishita gathered her students under a large tree near the river.
"Now that you've both understood your path," she began, "let me teach you the most sacred lesson: The source of your strength is Prana."
She raised her hand and summoned a sphere of shimmering energy.
"Prana is life force. It flows through every living being. It powers our siddhis, our bodies, even our dreams. Without mastery over your prana, you are like a chariot without reins."
She directed a beam of prana into a pebble, which began to float and glow.
"For you, Dushala, controlling prana through sword movements will allow techniques like Wind Cut and Mirror Strike."
She turned to Subhadra. "For you, controlling prana through thought will let you create illusions of thunder, beasts, or entire armies."
Subhadra's eyes widened. Dushala whispered, "Amazing..."
---
That night, under the canopy of stars, Dushala and Subhadra sat by the Narmada, their reflections rippling on the water.
"I never thought I'd be here," Subhadra murmured.
"Neither did I," Dushala said. "But I am glad we are."
They looked toward the palace where Rudra sat in meditation.
In that silence, every drop of water in the Narmada sang of rising tides, both within and beyond.
Far away, the warrior titled 'Water Disaster' sat upon a boulder, her trident beside her, the ocean whispering at her feet.
She smiled.
Chapter Ends.