: Dawn at the Border — The End of a Friendship
The sun rose with a scary red light, as if the sky itself was warning of the bloodshed to come. The sound of conch shells clashed from all directions. War drums made the ground shake. The noise of chariot wheels, horses neighing, and thousands of soldiers cheering together created a terrible symphony. The only possible end was death.
Two huge armies stood facing each other across a valley. One had golden-red flags, the other blue-silver. The land between them was empty and silent, waiting for death.
The two kings rode their chariots to the middle. Their faces were like iron masks, only their eyes showed a burning, old hatred.
King Anil's voice, deep like the ocean, broke the silence: "Tejendra! If you wanted war, you should have challenged us openly. Attacking our general from behind is a coward's act. Is this the bravery of Tejgarh?"
King Tejendra's voice, like a volcano erupting, roared back: "And kidnapping our general and painting our gate with his blood... is this the honesty of Neelgarh?"
"Kidnapping?" Anil's fist tightened on his sword. "What lie is this? Are you throwing mud at us to hide your own dark deeds?"
"Words are useless now, old 'friend'," Tejendra spat out bitterly. "You wanted an excuse for war, right? Here it is. Now come, let's see whose resolve has more fire."
At that moment, Tejendra raised his sword. Sunlight fell on its edge, making it a bright ray of death. He struck hard. Anil blocked it. The clash of their swords scattered sparks in the air. That was the signal.
Both armies roared together. And then, the world broke apart.
This was not a war; it was the explosion of a giant beast. Swords flashed, spears flew, horses screamed. Drops of blood flew in the air, fell to the ground, and a warm, coppery smell poisoned the air. Streams of blood began to flow on the battlefield.
And in the middle of that horrible firestorm, a quiet, painful island formed.
Prince Agni and Prince Neer stood facing each other. All around them, the storm of war raged and cried, but the air between the two friends was frozen and heavy. Neer's smile was gone. Agni's seriousness was gone. Both faces showed the same expression – an unspeakable, tearing pain.
"The general of Tejgarh took the head of my father's most loyal friend," Neer's voice trembled, tears in his eyes. "I tried everything to stop it, Agni. Everything. I begged every minister, even my father. But I failed."
Agni lowered his sword. "Neer, we don't know why Raghuvir did that. Believe me. Neither I nor my father gave him such an order. This... this is something else. A trap."
"Whether it's a trap or the truth now," Neer said, a tear drawing a clean line through the dirt on his cheek, "the war has started. And both of us... we are too small to stop it."
"Then we must fight... for our own kingdoms," Agni said, but it sounded like a question.
"No," Neer shook his head, his voice full of finality. "Agni, if we two face each other... no one will survive. I... I cannot come back from that."
"There is no choice left, Neer!" Agni's voice rose for the first time, with a desperate scream. "Can't you see? This is hell! Our people are dying! We have to face each other!"
"I will not raise my hand against you," Neer said, planting his sword in the ground. "I will not pick it up."
Agni closed his eyes. When he opened them, they had the same determination Neer often saw in their school days – and now it was against him. "Then... I will start."
Agni moved forward and attacked. Neer did not pick up his sword. He only blocked it with a shield of water he summoned. Water and fire collided with a sharp hiss.
"Stop, Agni!" Neer shouted.
"No!" There was fire in Agni's voice now, the fire of pain, the fire of anger. "This war will not stop now!"
And then, it happened – what both feared. Neer was forced to defend himself. He had to pick up his sword. Their duel began.
It was nothing like their friendly sparring in school. It was a painful dance. Every strike was tied to a memory of a decade of friendship. Every block broke a promise. Tears kept flowing from Neer's eyes, as if he was cursing himself with every strike he made.
Then, a moment came. Agni made a complex move, Neer's guard faltered, and Agni's sword cut through Neer's arm.
Slash!
A sharp, wet sound. Neer's blood, a bright red stream, burst from his arm. He stumbled back, stunned not by the pain, but by the truth that Agni had hurt him.
Agni froze. His sword, deadly a moment ago, slipped from his hand and fell clattering to the ground. A heart-wrenching scream came from his throat – "No...!"
He moved forward to support Neer. But at that moment, his eyes fell far away, on the other end of the battlefield. Where his father, Tejendra, was fighting with King Anil. And there, shot unknowingly from Agni's own hands, a fire-arrow – flying in a divine path – was going straight into the space between the two kings.
Boom!
An explosion. A ball of orange and white flames spread. When the smoke cleared, there was debris from both kings' chariots and their still-burning, standing poles. Both kings... were gone. Only ash and smoke remained.
Time seemed to stop.
Then, a scream – so sharp and broken that it cut through all the sounds of war – "Father!!!!"
It was Neer. In his eyes was not pain, but almost a flame of madness. From his injured, still-bleeding arm, he raised his hand. Moisture began to condense in the air around him, dew drops turning into drops of blood. He screamed with all his power, and from his hands burst a huge, angry stream of water – a liquid weapon – that hit Agni straight in the chest.
Thud!
The sound was soft, but the impact was devastating. All the air left Agni's lungs. For a moment, he saw Neer's eyes – those deep blue seas, where now there was only storm and endless pain. Then darkness took him. He fell unconscious to the ground.
The war suddenly stopped with a shudder. Both armies saw – one prince was crying, covered in blood, standing over his friend's unconscious body. And far away, no sign of their kings.
A terrible, bone-chilling silence fell on the battlefield.
---
On the Mountain – Shadow and Smile
Far from the battlefield, on a high mountain peak, two figures stood. One – a tall, thin man, his face covered with thick black cloth, only his eyes visible – cold, emotionless, like transparent stones. The other – a woman, shorter, holding a divine mirror showing the whole scene below clearly.
The woman smiled and lowered the mirror. "See? As we said. The human heart – the easiest thread to break. Once broken, everything is destroyed."
The man gave no reaction. His eyes were fixed on the scene below – where Neer was bent over Agni, streams of tears still flowing from his eyes, his lips moving as if in prayer or curse.
The woman smiled again, the smile not reaching her eyes. "Now he will utter the curse himself. He will think it is his own pain, his own anger. But those words... the words he will speak now... will bend their destiny. Not just for this life, but for lives to come."
The man nodded slowly, a slight acknowledgment. His voice, if he spoke, would probably be as cold and sharp as the mountain winds. But he said nothing.
Below, Neer looked at Agni's lifeless body, then at the smoky heap of his father's chariot far away. A sea of pain rose in his eyes, a fire of anger flared, and a despair that shook the very strings of his soul. He raised his hands to the sky, his voice echoed like a broken storm, containing everything – love, betrayal, death, and a curse coming from his very core:
"May our paths cross again and again, lifetime after lifetime, only to end like this! In blood, betrayal, and this endless pain! Let this bond never break, let this wound never heal! Forever!"
The sky thundered. Lightning flashed. And on the mountain peak, the woman smiled, taking a long, satisfied breath. "It is done. Now no one can stop it. This curse... this war... this hatred... will last for centuries. And we... we are just spectators."
The man looked down one last time – where Neer was now lifting Agni's body in his arms, his eyes closed, his face calm, as if embracing a corpse he himself had killed. Then, he slowly turned back, and the man wrapped in black cloth, and his female companion, vanished into the mountain's shadow, only the feeling of their cold, emotionless smile lingering in the air.
Below, the armies began to retreat in disarray. The kings were dead. The princes – one unconscious, one broken. And a light rain started from the sky, as if nature itself was trying to wash away the blood that had now become part of the earth.
But the war was not over. It was only a pause – in a conflict that was no longer just between kingdoms, but between two souls, two hearts, and a curse whose roots had now gone deep into destiny, beyond time.
---
Thus ended that day – when the sun drowned in blood, friendship turned to war, love transformed into a curse, and two souls were bound in a bond from which escape was perhaps impossible. And on the high mountain, two unseen eyes, with a cold smile, watched all that had been decided for the centuries to come.