"No matter what he does,
every person on earth plays
a central role in the history of the world.
And normally,
he doesn't even know about it."
The garden, bathed in the soft flickering glow of oil-lit diyas, seemed tranquil on the surface. The fragrance of sandalwood and jasmine filled the air, creating an almost deceptive sense of calm. But beneath that calm lay an undercurrent of tension so thick, it felt like the very air crackled with unease.
The women had been sent away, leaving only a handful of key figures seated in the garden. Advika sat among them, the only woman still present, surrounded by some of the most powerful men in history—Yudhishthir, Bheema, Arjun, Nakul, Sahdeva, Duryodhana, Dushasan. Karna sat slightly apart, as he often did, while Vidur and Bhishma held their usual seats of prominence. King Ujjwal, from the kingdom of Mahishmati, remained a tense figure at the center of the storm, flanked by his own people.
Everyone was seated now, but the atmosphere was anything but relaxed. The earlier events—the sudden confrontation, the near-attack on the king—hung in the air like an unresolved note, leaving most of the men agitated. They whispered among themselves, exchanging glances that ranged from disbelief to frustration. The audacity of it, to draw weapons in the presence of Bhishma and the Pandavas, especially in front of their guest, the king of Mahishmati, was incomprehensible to many.
But not everyone judged so harshly. Some of them, particularly Vidur and Karna, had seen enough of life to understand that desperation drives people to extremes. There was something about Advika and her companion that defied easy categorization—something far deeper than a mere breach of etiquette. Their arrival had been anything but ordinary.
And that was the crux of it. Advika and Chandu hadn't simply walked into this gathering; they had appeared—no, popped—into existence, seemingly cutting through the very fabric of space and time. Just hours earlier, they had been at a wedding, the noise of laughter, the warmth of companionship filling their senses. Advika's thoughts had been on someone missing, someone who once sat by her side, a presence she longed for even in a room full of people. And then, in the blink of an eye, they had been thrust into this alien environment—this gathering of royals and warriors from a time that felt as foreign as a distant dream.
Advika's hands clenched and unclenched as she sat cross-legged, her mind racing. Her patience, never her strongest virtue, had already worn thin. The situation was far from normal, and the fact that none of these men seemed to fully grasp that made her want to scream. She had been willing to play along for a moment, to sit through their agitated discussions to get the answers, but her tolerance was slipping fast.
Advika and Chandu sat with the letter that King Ujjwal had handed to them, a document supposedly containing crucial information that tied them to the kingdom of Mahishmati. They held it with great seriousness, their faces betraying none of the swirling emotions inside them. In truth, neither of them could make sense of what was written. The script was ancient, the words foreign, rendering them utterly helpless in understanding its contents.
They exchanged a glance, their eyes speaking volumes: What now? On the surface, they appeared stoic, as if the weight of the kingdom's fate rested in their hands. But beneath that facade, they felt utterly ridiculous. Not long ago, they had attacked King Ujjwal, threatened him in front of the most powerful figures of all time, and nearly sparked a war. And now, here they were, holding a letter they couldn't even read. The thought of their earlier bravado felt almost comical now. We'll look like fools after pulling such a stunt, Advika thought grimly.
Karna, seated beside Advika on a separate sofa but close enough to observe them clearly, was struggling to contain his amusement. He could read the bewilderment on their faces, the silent question marks in their expressions. His lips twitched as he tried to suppress a laugh. But a small chuckle escaped, which he quickly disguised with a cough.
YOU ARE READING
Destiny or Accident?
Historical FictionAdvika, 25, recently retired from her perilous career as a spy for the Indian government. She's faced trauma that most couldn't bear in a lifetime. Now, all she craves is the one thing her life lacked-normalcy. A quiet, boring life free from the sha...