Son of Fire, daughter of the Sun

Chapter 15: Accepting the Inevitable

The king of Tulunga miraculously recovered from a severe wound and survived, but due to a serious injury, he became blind in one eye and lost the ability to talk coherently. People said that it would be better if he died in battle, then he, like a true kshatriya who fulfilled his dharma, would reach Devaloka. Now he will no longer be able to rule not only the whole country, but even one tiny village, and his only heir disappeared without a trace on the way to Hastinapur. Hearing this news from the servants, Karisma became upset. She also believed that death in battle for a warrior is much more honorable than such a sad fate. And it was she who became the reason for such a miserable existence of her former enemy! Karishma felt remorse and sadness as she thought about it. But why? Why regret if she didn't violate the warrior's dharma? And yet, involuntarily, recalling the details of that battle, she felt pity and guilt in relation to the defeated enemy, until, in a rage, she realized that this was again making itself felt in her female part, which now had to come to terms with. She must forget forever about fighting again, as on the day when, in a duel with the king of Tulunga, she managed to surpass both Duryodhana and even the Great Bhishma, who could not cope with this strong opponent.

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Despite the angry verbal attacks of King Tulunga, Karishma simply continued to look her opponent in the eyes and pull the string, quickly releasing arrow after arrow. For her there was only fight. At first, the enemy skillfully knocked down her arrows, splitting them in two, as if showing off his dexterity, but his skill was not enough for a long time. In the afternoon, fear appeared in the eyes of the all-powerful king when he realized that he did not have time to respond to the attacks of the devi. Dozens of arrows were already sticking out of his shoulders, hitting him, but there was no time to yank them out. Other warriors bypassed the king and Karisma, allowing them to fight one on one. The king's eyes dimmed. There was no strength left for ridicule, he could not stand straight, because Karisma did not give him the opportunity to rest. Karishma, looking at him, suddenly understood his feelings and thoughts so clearly, as if their minds had briefly become one. The king was surprised. The king could not believe his eyes: the woman fought better, defeating him! For just a moment, he let frustration and fear take hold of his heart, and this feeling distracted, his hand trembled, another arrow went to the side. It was then that a blinding pain pierced his eye socket. He staggered, falling into the grass with a loud wheeze. Suddenly, someone's hands grabbed him under the back of his head, not allowing his head to touch the ground. From shock, the king saw almost nothing: his face was covered in blood, but he perfectly heard the voice of this damned devi who defeated him: “Healer! Urgently!"

He wanted her to finish him off, but Karishma could not let the wounded man not get help. Even if it's an enemy, even if he's been taunting her recently... She held his head in her lap, waiting for the healer to arrive. Even then she felt weak and dizzy and surprised herself: this had never happened to her before. Was it really worth it for her to get into the first serious fight, and she, like a pampered girl who never left her father's house, was troubled by the smell of blood? It can not be! Living with Arundev in the mountains, she hunted tigers, deer, and wild boars with him. Butchering and skinning the animal carcass was not difficult for her. So what's happening now? Why does the smell of blood seem vile, nauseating? By sheer force of will, she forced herself to look like she was fine. Karishma held on while the wounded man was carried to the tent. She walked with her back straight, despite severe dizziness, when, side by side with her husband, she entered the capital, recaptured from the enemy. She would have gladly returned right now to her secluded dwelling on Mount Mahendra, but Prince Duryodhana, flying in a whirlwind, full of strength and enthusiasm, literally forced her and Arundeva to participate in the upcoming festival. Over the next hours, Karishma listened to the words of gratitude from the Great Bhishma, folded her hands in front of her chest in response to the warm gratitude of King Dhritarashtra and his wife. She even survived the beginning of the holiday, when, by order of the Great Bhishma, the whole city was decorated with flowers, and songs and dances in honor of the winners continued all night until morning. She tried to save face by not revealing her condition to anyone. The weakness that had come and did not pass in any way seemed disgusting to her. She is a warrior! She is strong. Why does everyone have to forget about the holiday and mess with it? Karisma sat next to her husband in a place of honor near King Dhritarashtra, feeling worse every minute, until the world darkened. As if from a distance, she watched her body slide powerlessly off the seat. The last thing she felt was how her husband picked her up in his arms, and Prince Duryodhana shouted loudly, calling for a healer.