A scream pierced the night.

Radha! It was Radha's desperate cry for help.

Devashree ran towards the sound.

It revealed an Asur( demon), in the midst of kidnapping Radha, who was shouting for help, her wrist tightly clutched in the Asur's green hand.

As soon as he had hold of Radha, Devashree observed from afar, trying to reach Radha in time, but the asur began to run.

He was very fast, like a stroke of a storm and Devashree struggled to keep up.

There was no time to bring help.

If anyone from the village hears about this, then Radha, the bride to be getting kidnapped at this hour,she will be crushed by society! She had to rescue her by tonight itself!

Devashree suppressed a shiver just thinking about what the people might start to say about her.

There was no room for error.

With a spark of determination, Devashree followed the trail left by the Asur, leading her to the foreboding gates of Kamsa's palace.

The palace was imposing to say the least and was perfect to instill fear and submission and stood as a symbol of Kamsa's tyrannical rule over the land.

Devashree stood at the threshold realising the magnitude of what lay ahead.

The palace was quite imposing in the dead of night and she suppressed a shiver.

Yet, amidst the daunting architecture, a sliver of opportunity presented itself-a slightly open window, just within reach of a daring climb.

With her heart pounding against her chest, Devashree started scale the cold, rough stones of the palace wall.

Hey Bhagwan, just a little more.

Finally, reaching the window, Devashree paused, taking a moment to steady her breath and steel her resolve.

The interior beyond was shrouded in shadows.

With a gentle push to the window, she widened the gap, slipping into the unknown with silence.

Inside, the air was thick with the musk of ancient objects and the heavy scent of incense.

Her eyes, adjusted to the dimness in the sparse moonlight filtering through the window. The room was vast, adorned with relics of conquest and opulence, a chamber that whispered of Kamsa's vanity and cruelty.

Devashree moved with caution, her senses heightened to every sound-a distant drip of water, the faint rustle of a curtain, the almost invisible shift of air that spoke of passages hidden from uninvited eyes.

Her goal was beyond this room, deeper into the heart of this sinister place, where Radha, her dear friend was taken forcefully.

As she navigated through the labyrinthine corridors, a low conversation caught her attention. Hiding behind a large tapestry, she listened.

"Have you heard? Another village refuses to pay tribute," a guard's gruff voice sliced through the silence.

"Let them defy. They'll soon learn the cost of defiance. Maharaj Kams's patience wears thin," another retorted with a chilling laugh.

Devashree's heart raced at the casual cruelty with which they were talking.

Pressing herself against the cold, rough texture of the stone wall, she listened intently, her presence masked by the darkness that enveloped her.

"Did you hear? The girl, Radha, was not just any catch. It's all a scheme to draw out Krishna," one guard said to another.

The other guard snorted, "Krishna, the cowherd boy? Kans thinks a boy could be the cause of his downfall. The prophecy must have rattled his senses."

Not just any boy, the prophecy foretold that he would be Kamsa's end. That's why the king has been so paranoid, ordering the capture of all these innocents."

Devashree's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. The air around her felt charged with the revelation, the pieces of a larger puzzle falling into place with a clarity that chilled her to the bone.

All the asuras were not just mere tools for threatening the villages, they had been sent specifically after Krishna! Because of a certain Prophecy?

"The king's madness knows no bounds. But to think, a mere boy..." the second guard trailed off, skepticism lacing his tone.

The first guard shook his head. "Don't underestimate the prophecies. The king's astrologers have never been wrong. And if capturing this girl brings Krishna into the open, then..."

So Radha's capture was not a mere act of tyranny; it was a calculated move in a game of Kamsa significance, a bait to draw out Krishna!

Devashree realized the gravity of the situation.

"The poor lass, Radha, thrown into the deepest of cells. It's a fate I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy," the same guard murmured, his voice a mix of pity and fear.

"Aye, that's Kamsa's cruelty for you. The depths are where hope goes to die. No light, no warmth, just the cold embrace of despair," the other replied, his tone heavy with resignation.

Devashree's resolve hardened. She knew what she had to do.

Slipping away unnoticed, she made her way toward the dungeons, a labyrinth within the palace's belly, it reeked shadows and the air was thick with dread.

As she neared the entrance to the jail, she noticed the soldiers guarding the path. Their armor clinked softly with each movement.

Hiding behind a column, Devashree listened to their conversation, seeking an advantage.

"Think the girl knows anything about Krishna's whereabouts?" one soldier asked, leaning on his spear.

"Doesn't matter. Kamsa's taking no chances. Heard he's been having nightmares about that prophecy again," another soldier chuckled, though there was an undercurrent of unease in his laughter.

"Nightmares or not, it's us who have to stand guard in this forsaken place. Do you think the stories about Krishna are true?" the first soldier pondered aloud, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"True or not, if he's as powerful as they say, let's hope he stays far away from here. I've no desire to cross paths with a god," the second soldier replied, a shiver running through him.

She would have fought with them. But Radha was still in their grasp.

Realizing that brute force was not an option with the number of guards, Devashree retreated into the shadows to devise a plan.

She needed a distraction, something to draw the soldiers away long enough for her to slip past unnoticed. Her mind raced through possibilities until it settled on a simple yet risky plan.

Quietly, she gathered a few small stones from the ground.
With careful aim and a silent prayer, she tossed one to the far end of the corridor, where it clattered against the stone floor with a sound much louder than its size suggested.

"What was that?" One soldier startled, his spear at the ready, as both guards turned towards the source of the noise.

"Probably just a rat," the other soldier grumbled, but curiosity them to investigate.

As the soldiers moved away from their post, Devashree seized her moment.

She moved with the silence of a shadow, slipping past the now-unattended entry to the dungeons.

Her heart hammered in her chest. Once past the guards, she found herself at the top of a narrow, spiraling staircase that descended into darkness.

The air grew colder as she descended, the oppressive atmosphere of the dungeon seeping into her bones. At the bottom, the corridor stretched out, lined with heavy doors behind which countless souls languished in despair.

Devashree moved cautiously, her ears straining for any sound that might indicate Radha's presence.

Suddenly she heard something.

"Krishna," she heard a voice say, filled with extreme sorrow. Radha! It must be her!

"Krishna will bring change," said, another voice rich with both strength and sorrow.

"Yes, our son, born under the prophecy that he will be the downfall of tyranny. His destiny is larger than us, larger than this darkness," replied the other, a woman.

Devashree, listening from the shadows, felt a shiver run down her spine.

This was no mere mention of Krishna by admirers or followers; it was filled with deep love and longing.

Son. Our son.

A piece of the puzzle fell into place which she hadn't known she was missing.

She stood transfixed, the revelation that Devaki and Vasudev were Krishna's true parents reverberating through her like a sudden clap of thunder.

"Krishna's parents?" Devashree echoed, her voice a mix of awe and incredulity as if saying the words aloud could somehow make them more real.

Devki and Vasudev looked up in alarm hearing a sweet voice in the dark dungeons.

"Who are you, Putri? What are you doing here? This is no place for maidens. You must leave quickly before anyone comes."

Devashree was too much in shock to register anything

"You are Krishna's parents!? Tell me I am Krishna's friend Devashree, my other friend Radha has been brought here."

"Yes, I am Maharani Devaki and he is Maharaj Vasudev, we are Krishna's parents," Devaki responded, her voice imbued with a blend of pride and sorrow.

"Krishna, the light in our darkness, born to us only to be taken away for his safety, for the prophecy foretold that he would be the downfall of Kamsa."

Devashree stepped closer and clutched the cold bars of the cell a stark reminder of the cruel fate that had befallen these two souls.

"But how? How could you endure such separation, knowing your son was out there, facing his own trials?"

Vasudev's eyes met Devashree's, reflecting a depth of resilience born from unwavering faith.

"It is our love for him, and our belief in his destiny, that sustains us. Knowing that Krishna grows strong and wise, that he will one day free us all from Kamsa's tyranny-that is our solace."

"Each day without him is a trial, but we bear it for the greater good. For Krishna, for our people." Devaki added softly

The weight of their sacrifice settled heavily upon Devashree. Here, in the bowels of Kamsa's palace, the seeds of rebellion were sown, not just by warriors and heroes, but by the unyielding spirit of those who dared to hope and to love in the face of despair.

Devashree reached out, her fingers brushing against the cold, unyielding bars that separated them. "Your faith, your strength...it's inspiring. I.."

"Then I will free you," she declared, her voice resolute. "No chains are strong enough to bind the heart's desire for freedom. I will find a way."

But Vasudevl gently shook his head. "No, putri. Our freedom is not the key to this story. It is Krishna who must confront and defeat Kamsa. Our liberation must come through him, as prophesied."

"Our place is here, for now. To defy this would be to risk the divine plan set for our putr. Your heart is kind, but our destiny is not yours to alter." Devaki added.

Devashree found herself at a loss. The desire to act, to do something-anything-to alleviate their suffering clashed with the respect for their wishes and the larger cosmic narrative at play.

"But how can you bear it?" Devashree implored, her own heart aching with empathy for their plight. "How can you endure such pain?"

"It is our love for Krishna, and our faith in his destiny, that sustains us," Vasudev said, his voice firm. "And knowing there are hearts like yours, willing to stand against darkness for the sake of others, gives us hope."

Devashree still lingered outside the cell of Devaki and Vasudev.

She could not grant them the freedom they deserved, but she could offer a gift of a different kind.

"I...," Devashree began, her voice carrying a gentle warmth.

"Though I cannot break your chains, allow me to bring you a moment's respite with a story of Krishna-a tale of his compassion and mischief that has touched the hearts of many."

Devaki's eyes, bright with unshed tears, met Devashree's. "Yes, please putri," she whispered, her voice laced with a mother's longing.

Vasudev nodded, a silent gesture of gratitude.

Devashree settled herself more comfortably on the cold floor, drawing the cloak of memory around her.

"In the village of Vrindavan, where Krishna grew under the care of Nand Maharaj and Yashoda kaki, his antics were well-known and often left the villagers in a mixture of exasperation and affection."

She paused, gathering the threads of the tale.

"It was the season when the river Yamuna overflowed its banks, and the villagers were preparing for the festival in honor of Indra, the god of rain. Krishna, however, questioned the tradition, urging the villagers to honor instead the mountain Govardhan, which provided them with food and shelter."

Devaki leaned forward, hanging on every word, as if each syllable brought her closer to her distant son.

"Despite initial resistance, the villagers agreed, and a magnificent celebration was held in honor of Govardhan Hill. Indra, angered by the slight, unleashed a torrential storm upon Vrindavan, threatening to wash away everything in its path."

Devashree's voice took on a tone of wonder, "But Krishna, with the carefree confidence of youth and the power of the divine, lifted the entire Govardhan Hill on his little finger, providing shelter for all the villagers and their animals beneath it. For seven days and nights, the storm raged, and Krishna stood unmoved, a beacon of protection against Indra's wrath."

"When the storm finally ceased, and Indra recognized the divinity of Krishna, he bowed in apology. Krishna's act not only saved the village but also taught a lesson of faith and the value of nurturing the resources that sustain us."

"My putr," Devaki murmured.

Vasudev placed his hand over Devaki's, "Thank you, putri," he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "You've brought us closer to Krishna, if only for a moment."

Devashree rose, her heart heavy "Your son's deeds are a light in the darkness, a source of joy and hope for all. I will carry your love to him.

Devaki's eyes shimmered with unshed tears,"Thank you, child. Go with our blessings. And tell our son..." Her voice faltered, overcome with emotion.

"Tell him his parents await him, with love unbounded and faith unwavering," Vasudev finished for her, his hand finding Devaki's in the gloom.

"I will. And I vow to do all I can to hasten that day of reunion."

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A/N

Now you did not expect that, did you? A spy Devashree!

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