"Toh kya Sahasrabahu ke vanshajo ne punah Ujjain par shaashan sthaapit kar liya ?" His voice resonating like thunder.

The atmosphere shifted as Parshuram stood in front of them, his presence commanding attention. His brow arched, and the royal men shrank under his scrutiny, their breaths hitching in their throats. The crowd hushed, eyes darting between the sage and the royal lineage, every breath held in anticipation.

Dilip’s jaw clenched, sweat beading on his forehead. The grandeur of his royal status felt futile in the presence of the sage, whose mere gaze seemed to pierce through generations of lineage. Jayasen beside him swallowed hard, his throat dry, as if the very air had thickened with dread. Their regal attire, once a symbol of pride, now felt like chains binding them to a past they wished to forget.

The Kshatriyas, known for their valor, shifted uneasily, exchanging anxious glances, their hearts racing in their chests. Each man felt the weight of Parshuram's gaze, a reminder of the bloody past, where their ancestors had fallen to the sage’s wrath.

Fear hung in the air, thick and suffocating, as they dared not meet the fierce eyes of the legendary warrior, whose reputation for destruction loomed like a dark shadow over their lineage. Some men instinctively stepped back, while others instinctively drew closer to their wives, seeking safety in their presence, their bravado shattered.

The women, sensing their husbands’ trepidation, instinctively shielded them, stepping forward to protect their kin while casting worried glances at the sage.

Krishneshwari, her curiosity ignited, stepped forward. Her delicate frame moved gracefully, each step purposeful yet unguarded, drawing the gaze of all present. Her mother, Aarvi, instinctively reached out, her face a mask of concern, urging her daughter to stay back. "Krishneshwari, nahi !" she implored, but the princess was undeterred.

With her hands joined in prayer and her heart filled with courage, Krishneshwari advanced toward Parshuram. Her gaze sparkled with a mix of awe and determination, as if she sensed an unspoken connection to the sage. With each stride, she locked eyes with the him, his intense gaze meeting hers with a mixture of recognition and amusement.

Time seemed to still as she stood before him, their eyes locked in a silent exchange that transcended words. Parshuram tilted his head slightly, his expression a blend of curiosity and interest, recognizing the spirit of the princess before him.

Krishneshwari, emboldened by his gaze, knelt gracefully before him, hands joined in reverence. A barely detectable faint smile played at the corners of his mouth.

"Tere pita ne tujhe apne Purvajo ki katha nahi sunayi kya, kanya ?" His voice boomed with authority.

Krishneshwari, kneeling respectfully, looked up, her eyes sparkling with innocence. "Sunayi hai. Aapki katha toh baalpan se sunte aayi hu." she replied, her voice steady despite the tension surrounding them.

Parshuram raised an inquisitive brow, scrutinizing her reaction. "Fir bhi mere samaksh aayi ho ? Kyu, tujhe bhaye nahi lagta kya ?"

"Lagta hai na, bahut se vastuo se bhaye lagta hai." Krishneshwari said, "Kintu aap toh Bhagwaan hai. Aur Bhagwaan toh nirbalo ki sahayata karte hai, dharmparayan vyaktiyo ki raksha karte hai. Aapse kaisa bhaye ?"

Parshuram’s stern expression softened, and a glimmer of glee danced in his eyes. He gestured for her to rise, and she complied, standing tall yet humble, her heart racing with awe. He then placed his mighty axe on the ground, the earth shivered beneath them, a reminder of its power.

The axe, gleaming and majestic, stood as tall as Krishneshwari, its weight symbolizing the might of the sage. The crowd gasped, their eyes wide with a mix of awe and trepidation. The air thickened with tension, and all eyes were fixed on the sage as he towered over the royal men.

"Mere Parshu jitni ho tum. Fir bhi itni si aayu mei itni badi badi baate." he remarked, his tone shifting to one of warmth.

"Wahi Parshu jo kshatriyo ke bhaye ka karan hai ?" She countered playfully, her spirit undaunted.

Parshuram chuckled lightly, appreciating her spirit. The delicate balance of innocence and valor in her tone captured all present. Her sincerity rang true, piercing through the tension like a soothing balm. At her words, Dilip and Jayasen exchanged glances, their apprehension easing. The other royal men and Kshatriyas, who had braced themselves for conflict, found solace in the princess's unwavering faith. The crowd, once tense and anxious, now breathed easier, emboldened by the princess's unyielding spirit.

Meanwhile, hidden behind the trees, Mayantak quivered. The sage's formidable presence unnerved him; the weight of his past misdeeds loomed heavily. The very air felt charged, and he sensed Parshuram’s power surging. Wisps of fear coiled around his heart like serpents, urging him to retreat.

With a reluctant step, he slipped away into the shadows, fearing the divine wrath that lingered in the atmosphere.

Parshuram’s lips curled into a gentle smile, a rare sight for such a formidable sage. Seeing this Krishneshwari bowed lower, her forehead almost touching the stone, as she humbly touched his feet, a gesture of profound respect. "Aaj Mera ritushuddhi samskaar aur janmdin hai, prabhu. Aashirwad dijiye."

Parshuram's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with delight at her innocence and courage. He raised his hands, his aura radiating peace. "Abhaye bhava !" he intoned, bestowing a blessing that seemed to wash over them all.

Krishneshwari’s eyes sparkled with delight. "Aho bhagya humare, ki aaj ke din aapke darshan ho gaye."

Her innocence and sincerity struck a chord with Parshuram, whose stern demeanor softened completely in that moment. He regarded her with a hint of merriment.

"Ek baat kahu ?" he began, eliciting an eager response from the princess.

Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, "Ji ?" Krishneshwari replied eagerly, her youthful spirit undeterred by the sage’s formidable presence.

With a sigh of contentment, Parshuram reached out, his hand brushing against her cheek. "Aaj Akshaye tritiya ke din, mera bhi janmdin hai." he revealed, a twinkle of mischief in his gaze.

The princess's delight was infectious, and even the royal men, once quaking in their boots, found their spirits lifted. Krishneshwari's face lit up with surprise, and she clasped her hands in gratitude.

"Oh ! Dhanya hu mai, ki mera janmdin aapke saath padta hai." Krishneshwari said.

Parshuram chuckled softly, the sound resonating like distant thunder. Mitravinda was overcome with joy and exclaimed, "Janmdin ki badhaiya prabhu !"

Parshuram turned to her, his gaze catching the light of her expectant eyes. The form of Vishnu, gazed at the form of Shri. He offered her a smile so radiant that it seemed to illuminate the entire temple courtyard. The men and women, royal and common, bowed deeply in respect, acknowledging the divine presence among them, seeking his benevolent blessings.

Parshuram, embodying both fear and affection, picked up his mighty axe with grace. With a final, lingering glance at the princesses, he turned and vanished, leaving behind an air of sanctity and awe.

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A/N

Akshaye tritiya, the birthday of Parshuram as well as our cutie Krishneshwari ✨

Also, very good Mayantak, jaan bacha ke bhaag liye, smart ho-🌝