CHAPTER 45

The sun blazed over the lush fields surrounding Varanasahrya ashram, casting long shadows as the Kuru and Yadava princes lined up at their designated archery spots. Dronacharya stood tall, his sage-like presence commanding respect, his keen eyes scanning the bowmen. Today, however, his focus was more towards the newcomers.

Dronacharya, with his piercing gaze, observed the Yadava princes. Their muscle memory hinted at prior training; each arrow they loosed flew true, striking the targets with remarkable precision. He could see potential in each, but also gaps that needed refining—timing, breath control, and the mental focus that separated a good warrior from a great one. He realised that with guidance and dedication, this new generation of Yadavas could rise to become the mightiest warriors Bharatvarsh had ever known.

His gaze scrutinized each prince, before it lingered on Satyaki, who released the arrow, sending it straight into the center of the target. Dronacharya raised an eyebrow, impressed. He noted the natural instinct in Satyaki's movements, a blend of strength and agility that spoke of potential. While other Yadavas displayed talent, Satyaki’s fierce concentration struck a chord within Dronacharya’s heart. He could see the same fiery yearning for knowledge that Arjun possessed.

The scent of freshly disturbed earth mingled with the tang of sweat as princes struggled to master the craft. The rhythmic whoosh of arrows slicing through the air echoed like a war drum, each projectile accompanied by the dull thud of impact as they found their marks on distant targets.

In the midst of this cacophony, Arjun paused, breathless yet invigorated, a triumphant smile breaking across his face. Within moments, he had unleashed the entire quiver, the arrows embedding themselves into the targets with a satisfying thump.

The air crackled with thrill, yet he felt a twinge of dismay, for the arrows had been exhausted so quick. His keen eyes darted around the training ground, searching for Ashwathama, who was currently assisting a Yadava prince with the nuances of grip and stance.

"Guru-Bhrata ?" Arjun called, his voice cutting through the murmurs of the others. "Aur teer hai kya ?"

Ashwathama glanced up, his brow furrowing in exasperation, "Itne shigreh ?! Abhi toh baano se bhari dusri tunir di thi !"

Arjun’s expression morphed into an apologetic grin, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Tumhe aur nahi milenge." Ashwathama shook his head, his tone light but firm. "Baith jaao waha."

With a resigned sigh, Arjun turned away, his spirit undeterred but his body weary. He walked to the edge of the arena, where a simple wooden bench awaited him. As he settled onto the cool surface, the energy of his fellow trainees buzzed around him.

Arjun’s eyes scanned the vibrant scene before him. The sun cast a golden hue over the training ground, illuminating the determined faces of the princes. His brothers, Yudhishthir, Bheem, Nakul, and Sahadev, were in their element, each showcasing their unique skills in archery. A smile appeared on his face as he watched them progress.

As his gaze shifted, he noticed his cousins, the Kauravas, practicing nearby. Among them, Vikarn stood out, his aim sharp and determined.  The other Kauravas, however, seemed inconsistent; some struggled with their aim, their frustration palpable. Duryodhan's arrogance did little to mask his lack of finesse.

His gaze shifted from the familiar Kuru princes, his brothers and cousins, to the Yadavas—fresh faces, full of vigor. They had a different energy, their smiles mingling with the seriousness of archery, a testament to their carefree upbringing in Mathura. He observed their camaraderie, their playful banter, and the way they supported one another, unlike the case with his own cousins.

Among the Yadavas, Satyaki stood out in Arjun's eyes, his precision and grace were captivating. Arjun watched as Satyaki effortlessly nocked an arrow, his form perfect and fluid. With a swift motion, he released the arrow, which soared through the air, finding its mark with uncanny accuracy. Arjun leaned forward, captivated. Satyaki's focus was unwavering; his stance was firm, and his eyes sparkled with determination.

As Satyaki released his last arrow, Arjun noticed Ashwathama move towards Satyaki, saying something, perhaps offering praise, that made the young Yadava's face light up with joy. Satyaki, beaming, bowed slightly in acknowledgment, a glimmer of pride in his eyes.

Exhausted yet exhilarated, Satyaki stepped away from the practice ground, walking toward the edge of the arena, as the sun highlighted the sweat glistening on his brow. Upon spotting Arjun seated on the bench, Satyaki’s pace slowed, reverence painting his features. Arjun, the famed warrior with an unmatched prowess in archery, sat right in front of him, his bow resting beside him like a loyal companion.

An expression of awe washed over Satyaki’s face, momentarily forgetting his own fatigue. Here was the one he had idolized, the embodiment of skill and valor. Arjun caught Satyaki's gaze, and a warm smile spread across his face, disarming the younger prince’s nervousness.

"Adbhut dhanurdhari ho tum, Yadav-kumar." Arjun praised, his voice rich with encouragement. "Kya naam hai tumhara ?"

Satyaki barely contained his excitement, a flush of pride coloring his cheeks. "Yuyudhaan." he replied, his voice slightly trembling.

"Ah. Yuyudhaan. Aao baitho." Arjun smiled gesturing toward the bench.

Swallowing his nerves, Satyaki took a seat beside him, his hands fidgeting with excitement.

"Meri dhanurvidya aapke samaksh kuch nahi. Aapko aaj apne netro se dhanurvidya karte dekh, hridaye prafullit ho utha hai. Pehle aapke samarthya ki kahaniya sunta tha, aaj dekh bhi liya." Satyaki said.

Arjun raised an eyebrow, a playful grin breaking on his lips. "Meri kirti Mathura tak pahuch gayi ?"

"Keval Mathura hi nahi, samast Aryavart mei aapki kirti faeli huyi hai Rajkumar." Satyaki said, his eyes wide with admiration.

Arjun, absorbing Satyaki's fervent admiration, felt a swell of pride mixed with humility. It was as if the countless hours of practice and discipline had woven a tapestry of respect and admiration that extended far beyond the borders of Hastinapur. Arjun’s expression transformed into one of prideful acknowledgment.

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A/N

Satyaki being the OG Fanboy of Arjun
🤣🤣🤣

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