Saga Of The Timeless (A Mahabharata Story)

4.Echoes of the Forest

My feet ached as I stormed away, my pace quickening with every step. I didn't care where I was going, only that I was putting as much distance between myself and Krishna as possible. The absurdity of the situation gnawed at me—one moment I was ready to embrace death, and the next, I was trudging through some bizarre landscape with a deity who seemed annoyingly cheerful.

"Stop your feet, they're hurt," Krishna called out, his voice laced with mock concern. I could practically hear the smirk in his words.

"Stop following me and go your own way!" I shot back, not bothering to look over my shoulder. I knew he was there, just behind me, matching my steps with ease. It was infuriating.

"I... I'm impressed. Teach me your ways—how do you manage to storm off so dramatically?" he called again, his voice annoyingly close. I whipped around, only to stumble back as Krishna magically materialized in front of me, a mischievous grin on his face.

Ignoring him, I turned sharply and marched in the opposite direction, my feet protesting every step. Before I could get far, Krishna appeared in front of me again, blocking my path with exaggerated flair. "You sure are a very angry young woman," he huffed, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow. "Tell me, do you use your rage to fuel your speed, or is it something more mystical? Because if so, I could really use that trick the next time I have to cross the universe."

"Maybe it's the burning desire to get away from annoying people like you!" I snapped, trying to sidestep him. But Krishna, ever the playful one, mirrored my movements perfectly, like we were caught in some ridiculous dance routine.

I glared at him, my frustration mounting. "Are you going to follow me forever?"

"Only as long as you keep walking in circles," he replied, his grin widening. "Which, by the way, you're doing quite efficiently. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to get a good workout in before we discussed your existential crisis."

I couldn't help the small, reluctant smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth. "You're impossible," I muttered, though the fight was rapidly draining out of me.

"Not impossible, just inevitable," Krishna said with a wink, like that was supposed to make sense. Of course, with him, maybe it did.

I shook my head, finally letting out a sigh of defeat. "Go ahead, follow me all you want because I'm not stopping anytime soon."

Krishna simply sighed, the kind of sigh that said he knew he couldn't win this one.

As I turned to look around, I realized I had wandered into a dense forest. Great. It looked like night would fall soon, and the last thing I wanted was to be stuck in the middle of the wilderness. But I couldn't stop, not yet. Not with everything swirling inside my head.

"Tvarita, you need to stop now ," Krishna called out, his tone now more resigned than playful.

I didn't bother turning around as I snapped back, "Then send me back."

"I can't do that," he replied, his voice softer.

"But you could bring me here?" I shot back, annoyed. I wasn't really listening to him anymore. I was too focused on the growing darkness around me and the distant sounds of the forest waking up for the night. My mind flashed to the idea of wild animals lurking around, waiting for an easy meal. Maybe I was being reckless, but I didn't care.

I walked on, determined to keep going, even as the trees thickened and the shadows lengthened. To my surprise—and, if I'm being honest, a little bit to my delight—I noticed that Krishna had stopped following me. Finally, some peace and quiet.

But the peace was short-lived. The forest was alive with noises—rustling leaves, distant howls, the occasional snap of a twig. My bravado started to waver as the reality of the situation set in. I was alone in a darkening forest, and whatever had stopped Krishna from following me didn't seem to care if I got lost, hurt, or worse.