Love Across Time

One Hundred Two

Aanya gripped the railing of the balcony, her gaze drawn to the sun-drenched courtyard below. It was a scene of vibrant chaos. Young warriors, their bodies honed to lean perfection, clashed in a battle. Abhimanyu was a whirlwind of movement as he dueled with his cousins. Every twist, every parry, every lightning-fast lunge resonated with an energy that both exhilarated and terrified Aanya.

A memory clawed at the edges of her mind. It was a nightmare, a vision from the war to come, Abhimanyu, a lone warrior trapped in an impenetrable maze, his cries swallowed by the roar of the battlefield. A shudder ran through her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, desperately pushing the horrifying images away.

A soft cough broke the spell. Aanya turned to find Subhadra standing beside her, a warm smile on her face. "He's getting better every day," Subhadra remarked, pride evident in her voice.

Aanya forced a smile in return, the weight of the knowledge she carried settling heavily in her chest. Abhimanyu's prowess in battle was a double-edged sword. It filled her with a mother's pride, but every move, every display of courage, also served as a constant reminder of the brutal fate that awaited him.

Subhadra, sensing the turmoil beneath Aanya's carefully constructed facade, reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Are you worried about something, Aanya?" she asked.

Aanya shook her head, but the knot of dread in her stomach remained unknotted. Faith, a fragile thing nurtured during their long years of exile, was now buffeted by the ever-present threat of war.

Suddenly, a loud cry of frustration pierced the air. Aanya flinched, her gaze snapping towards the courtyard. Abhimanyu lay sprawled on the dusty ground, his face contorted in a grimace. Samba stood over him, his sword held high, a triumphant grin splitting his face.

Relief washed over Aanya in a wave. No blood, no serious injury, just a harmless tumble in the dust. It was a reminder that for now, Abhimanyu was safe, a carefree young warrior enjoying the thrill of competition.

A chuckle escaped Subhadra's lips as she observed the scene below. "Looks like Samba won't be taking it easy on him anymore," she said with amusement.

Aanya watched as Abhimanyu scrambled to his feet, a determined glint back in his eyes. He lunged at Samba, their swords clashing in a flurry of renewed energy. A strange sense of peace settled over her. In that moment, the weight of the future seemed to recede, replaced by the simple joy of watching her son embrace the present.

But the future, with its grim certainty, loomed large. She had lost so much already, her family, her innocence, a part of her very soul in Dyutsabha. The thought of losing Abhimanyu was an unbearable weight. She would talk to Kanha, plead with him, and challenge the very fabric of fate if need be. She wouldn't lose him. Not her son.

"Where are you going?" Subhadra inquired, noticing the sudden shift in Aanya's demeanor.

"I need to see Kanha," she declared.

Aanya weaved through the corridors of the palace, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs. The salty tang of the sea, a constant feature of Dwarka, intensified as she emerged from the palace's cool embrace. The rhythmic crash of waves against the shore acted as a beacon, guiding her towards the secluded spot where Kanha had first brought her. It was a place of solace, a sanctuary carved out of the bustling city, where the whispers of the ocean seemed to hold the secrets of the universe.

As she emerged from the grove of trees bordering the secluded beach, she spotted him. Kanha, bathed in the glow of the setting sun, sat on a weathered rock, his back to her, his gaze fixed on the endless expanse of the ocean. Even from a distance, Aanya felt a wave of calm wash over her. Kanha always possessed that effect.