Undying Legacies | Mahabharata one-shots (✓)

8. A Rift of Soul

The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city of Dwarka. But inside the grand palace, the air was heavy, thick with tension that no setting sun could soften.

Krishna stood at the entrance to Balarama's chamber, his heart weighed down by the knowledge that this was not an ordinary meeting. For the first time in their lives, the two brothers—inseparable since birth—stood on opposite sides of a divide that cut deeper than any blade.

Balarama sat with his back turned, his broad shoulders hunched, betraying the silent storm that raged within him. His hands rested on the arms of his seat, gripping them tightly as if anchoring himself against the weight of his emotions. Krishna entered, his footsteps quiet but certain, his usual serenity tempered by the gravity of the moment.

"Dau," Krishna's voice was gentle, as it had always been when addressing his elder brother, but there was an unmistakable strain beneath it.

Balarama didn't turn. His voice, when it came, was cold, but not devoid of the affection that had always been present between them. "You chose not to consult me, Kanha."The use of "Kanha" rather than "Krishna" was deliberate—a reminder of the bond they shared, of childhood memories, of battles fought side by side. And yet, the tenderness of the name contrasted sharply with the bitterness in Balarama's tone.

Krishna took a step closer, though he knew that in this moment, no physical proximity could bridge the emotional distance between them. "Dau, I did what I felt was right for our Subhadra, for her happiness."

Balarama's hands clenched tighter. He rose from his seat, finally turning to face his younger brother. His face was stern, but his eyes—the eyes of the man who had taught Krishna as a baby—were filled with hurt. "Her happiness?" he repeated, his voice a low rumble. "And what of our family's honor? What of my word to Duryodhana? Do you understand the shame you've brought upon me, upon us, in front of the Kurus? Krishna , won't I think of our Subhadra's wellbeing?"

Krishna met his brother's gaze, his own eyes soft but resolute. "I understand, Dau. But Subhadra's heart belongs to Arjuna. How could I stand by and watch her bound to someone she does not love?"

Balarama's jaw tightened. "You think love is more important than dharma? More important than the word of your elders? I have always trusted you, Krishna, in all matters, but this... this betrayal..." His voice cracked ever so slightly on the last word, the emotion behind it too powerful to suppress.

Krishna flinched inwardly at the word "betrayal." It was the last thing he had ever wanted to hear from his brother's lips. "Dau, I do not seek to dishonor you. I hold your words in the highest regard. But dharma is not just about promises made to others. It is also about what we owe to our own, to the ones we love."

Balarama's fists unclenched, but his anger still simmered beneath the surface. He stepped closer to Krishna, his towering presence casting a long shadow. "You speak of love as if it is enough to defy all other duties. I promised Subhadra's hand to Duryodhana, and now you have humiliated me in front of the entire court. I stood before the Kurus, Bheeshma, Dronacharya, all of them—defending our family's honor. And you... you did not even ask for my counsel."

Krishna's voice softened further, his heart aching for the pain he had caused. "Dau, I know I have hurt you. But my actions were never meant to shame you. They were to protect Subhadra's happiness. Her heart could not bear a life with Duryodhana."

Balarama shook his head, his frustration mounting. "And what of my heart, Kanha? Do you think it does not bleed to see our family's name questioned, to see my word disregarded? You, of all people, know the importance of promises, of loyalty to family. Yet you chose to act alone."