Prologue

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It was the dead of night

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It was the dead of night. The peaceful and prosperous kingdom of Panchal was consumed by smoke, the mammoth structures crumbling to dust and smoke.
The Maharani, clutching her seven month old baby tightly to her chest, was desperate to keep her daughter safe against all odds.

She called out to a woman. Her friend, her companion and implored her to keep her daughter safe.
Her Maharani was not scared, not for her life. Her daughter was safe and nothing else mattered.

She looked ahead bravely, accepting her fate, ready to leave the world forever and join her beloved husband.

As the woman looked back, she saw a sword being brought down upon her friend, killing her instantly.
Unable to take in the sight, she turned around and ran, not looking back again.

             ••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Meenakshi and her husband ran for their lives. With them was a boy not more than three years old and a baby who was just a few months old.

The couple stood on the slope of a mountain, overlooking panchal. The prosperous kingdom being burned down to ashes. So many lost lives. So many people trapped inside, who would probably be subjected to slavery for the rest of their lives. A lone tear traced down the woman's cheek. The family had lost their home.

But unknown to anyone, the woman and her husband carried the saviour. The only hope of the people of Panchal

                   ••••••••••••••••••


12 years later

Krishnaa clung to her brother Dhrisht. Hours had passed but they stayed like that in their nearly broken house. They were too numb to cry. Too shocked to move.

A few feet away from them lay their parents bodies.

After a long time Krishnaa managed to crawl to her mother. Shebroke down crying as reality struck her.

They were alone. All alone and orphaned.

 All alone and orphaned

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