"Parithraanaaya Sadhunaam
Vinaashaayacha Dushkruthaam
Dharma Samstaapanaardhaaya
Sambhavaami Yuge Yuge!"

To save the righteous
To destroy the evil people
To reinstate order
I take birth from time to time!
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"Where do our heroes and warriors come from? Perhaps you might say they come from another league or world altogether. I would say that they emerge from our midst. There is a hero and warrior in each one of us. We never know what our true potential is until the time for that comes. We are all ordinary until one transfiguring, extraordinary moment happens. When a warrior falls, another is reborn in the forge of time and need!"
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In a village in Mahishmati,
All the remaining men of that village sat cowering in heavy chains and shackles around their hands, legs and necks. The rest were either maimed for life or dead. All the women and children stood huddled in one corner. Not a squeak or gasp escaped from anybody's mouth. They were all too scared to draw attention towards themselves by making any noise.

A scene which they would not have imagined in the wildest of their dreams was happening right in front of their eyes. The Kalakeyas were drawing lots for their houses and lands to decide which house and land would belong to whom. That procedure had concluded and they took a step towards the new houses and lands that were to be theirs from now onwards when one or two voices among the shackled men protested, "That is my house!"....."Those are my lands!"......."Get out!"

But this resistance instantly died out the next minute. The voices that had expressed the slightest sign of resistance were instantly snuffed out. A deathly silence succeeded this. Nobody expressed the least bit of resistance or doubts.

A mother turned to her son and said, "Sneak away from here when nobody is looking. There is nothing left for you here in Mahishmati. All of us are collectively paying for what we did to Mahendra Baahubali and his family. We drove out our own savior and now we are left with the demons. If you remain here, you too will be no better than a slave. Run.....Mrithyunjay ....Run......Don't ever come back here."

Mrithyunjay did not want to go. He caught hold of the hem of his mother's saree. She pushed him away, "Don't be a fool! Listen to what your mother is telling!" Sobs interspersed her words.

As he turned to run, Mrithyunjay spoke, "I will go now because you asked me to........'Janani Janma Bhumischa Swargadhapi Gariyasi'......Even if they are kings, they have to come for the sake of their mother or motherland countless number of times. No sacrifice is too big for one's mother or motherland. No achievement is too small for one's mother or motherland. The only feet to which one should owe one's allegiance is one's own mother and motherland.......These were your own words. How can I forget them?.......I, Mrithyunjay Varma, son of Senapathi Bhairava Varma and Katyayani swear on my mother and motherland that I will return one day for my mother and motherland.....strong like the mountains....swift like the wind.....and all-consuming like the fire....I will sweep away everything in my path......or else....I am not a true Kshatriya!"
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Near the outskirts of the forest of Kardalivan.
Twenty-four hours had elapsed since Mruthyunjay left his mother and ancestral village behind. He found that he was not the only one who was running away. He came across many fugitives just like him. There was a mass exodus from Mahishmati, both men and women, high and low, strong and weak, people from the east and the west, the north and the south.

It seemed as though villages, towns and cities of the mighty kingdom were bereft of people while the woods, forests and wilderness were teeming with them. The very foundations of the proud kingdom were totally uprooted. Several of these runaways were soldiers who had been serving in the army of the erstwhile king, Mahendra Baahubali.

Mrithyunjay recognized one of these men. He was an aide-de-camp of Senapathi Bhairava. His name was Samarth. He remembered him visiting their ancestral house in the village once or twice along with his father. As soon as Mrithyunjay espied him, he went up to him and asked, "Samarth Mama....You...."

"Mrithyunjay.....you here..."

Mrithyunjay told him everything that had happened at their ancestral village. Samarth broke down, "When Mahishmati was attacked by the Kalakeyas, our contingent under your father was sent by the General of Mahishmati army to bring back Maharaj Mahendra. However, by the time we reached there, Rani Avantika was already dead and Maharaj was in his last breath. Our king and queen were treacherously surrounded and killed by our enemies."

"What? ......Our king and queen are no more?" Mrithyunjay extremely shocked.

"Yes!"

Mrithyunjay asked with a bated breath, "And father?.....Where is he?"

Samarth wrung his hands in despair and frustration, "Captured! .......We encountered the returning army of Vijayamarthanda and Bijjaladeva who were on their  way back to Mahishmati. We incurred heavy losses. When we were all about to be captured, Senapathi Bhairava single-handedly saved all of us. We escaped....but he got caught...."

Mrithyunjay caught hold of the man's long tunic and shook it saying, "Why did you leave my father all alone? Why Mama? Why?"

Samarth hung down his head in shame and guilt, "I am sorry. But it was your father's order. I too would have remained with him had he not sent me with the important mission of finding Princess Bhagiradhi.Your father gave his solemn word of honor to our dying Maharaj that he would find our Princess Bhagiradhi and reinstate her on the throne of Mahishmati as its queen."

"If my father gave his word of honor, then it is my duty as a son to fulfill my father's word on his behalf. I will also come with you to find our princess" Mrithyunjay said.

Samarth tried to dissuade him, "Mrithyunjay Baba, you are still too young for all this."

"No Mama. I grew ten years older in the past few days. I am coming and that's it!"
Witnessing the steely determination and resolution in the voice of this young boy, Samarth did not refuse him. Mrithyunjay turned towards all the other fugitives and runaway soldiers and said, "Stop running! How long and how far will you run? And where? Can any of you run from yourselves? If you can, then run! Otherwise stop!"

The exodus stopped for a split second. There was something electric in the whole atmosphere. These words out of the mouth of that young boy had an impact, a magical impact. They all stopped to hear him speak again. They were ready to be lead wherever he would lead them.

"Our Amma Gauri has chosen all of us to fulfill a mighty task. To find our Princess Bhagiradhi and place her on the throne of Mahishmati."

One of the fugitives spoke, "Why should we bother? It is more than enough if we manage fending for ourselves."

"How long will we be stuck in the rut of I, ME, MINE? For once rise above it and think about WE, OURS, OUR MOTHERLAND. We are responsible for the condition in which we are today. We have to work to improve it."

One of the women expressed her self-doubt, "But isn't all that the work of the army and soldiers? What can common citizens and women like me do?"

"It is us and only us. Because Mahishmati chose us, because only we are left, and because we are still free. Whether we are old or young, whether we are men or women, whether we are common citizens or soldiers, whether we are from the east, west, north or south, all of us have to fight for our independence. BECAUSE WE ARE ALL MAHISHMATIANS. Alone and dispersed, we are powerless. But together, we are a force, a mighty force, an unbreakable force. Manam andaram okataithe okka Maha Sena! (If all of us unite, we are a mighty army!)"

Samarth took over at this point, "From what I know, our Princess Bhagiradhi and her Aunt, Shodasi Devi are somewhere in this mighty forest along with their men. We have to find them and fast. The Raktabijas are also camping in the very same forest."

"Raktabijas.....the Raktabijas.....How can we? That too against the Raktabijas? Why did we even run in this direction? If only we had known....The Kalakeyas there all over our homes and lands and the Raktabijas here? We are not going ahead!" A round of loud whispers and murmurs errupted at this revelation.

Mrithyunjay spoke with visionary zeal, "We have lost our everything, homes, lands and kingdom, our own freedom and independence. What worse can either the Kalakeyas or the Raktabijas do to us? By going ahead, we have our everything to save and gain, our princess, our freedom, our kingdom. Who will come with me? Even if none of you come along with me, I am going ahead."

He took a step ahead. Nobody batted even an eyelid. He took another step forward without looking behind. This time Samarth and the other runaway soldiers followed behind Mrithyunjay. Mrithyunjay took a third step forward, and this time, all the populace there followed him. A Maha Sena followed him. Mrithyunjay gave an enigmatic smile, "By God's grace, we will save our princess, our everything. We will regain everything that we have lost. Jai Mahishmati!"

"Jai Mahishmati!" shouted a Maha Sena behind Mrithyunjay.
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In another part of the same Kardalivan,
For perhaps the first time ever since she had met her, Shodasi Devi observed a slight smile in Bhagiradhi's eyes. Circumstances had been such that they gave the little child more opportunities for crying and breaking down than smiling. Her lips were still very serious and grim. Curious to see what had pleased the child, Shodasi Devi followed her line of vision. It was a sleek, slender and beautiful pink blossom, the Kardali flower from which this entire forest acquired the name Kardalivan, the forest of Kardali. These blossoms were to be found in plenty in the forest across which they were traversing.

"Do you want it?" Shodasi asked.

"No......No...", replied the child on second thoughts. "I was simply looking at them just like that."

Not dissuaded by the diffident approach of the child, "You like that flower?I will get it for you."

The soldiers and the captain were about to remonstrate their queen from getting down and plucking flowers to please the child but contented themselves saying nothing and just fidgeting in their horses.

Shodasi got down from the horse and happily plucked the flowers. When she gave them to Bhagiradhi, her face temporarily brightened up and broadened with a wide smile before it narrowed down again. That one moment, the child felt loved and wanted again; the same way she used to feel with her mother and father, with her Kattapa Thatha who read stories to her and played with her, with her grandmother Devasena who talked to her about so many things.

Shodasi Devi was about to take the reins of the horse in her hand and recommence riding when her intuitive senses seemed to warn her about some impending danger. She beheld dark shadows closing in upon them and their party from all sides like the dark night. Had they continued riding without stoping for the flowers, she would never have observed it and they would have clearly walked into the trap.

They were being trailed, followed, and surrounded by the Raktabijas. Just like a hunter lures his prey into a false impression of safety and security, the Raktabijas would also attack them all of a sudden without giving any of them even the slightest opportunity to escape. One poisoned dart smeared with Indraneeli, sword thrust, or spear piercing into the skin, none of them would be in a position to retaliate.

All of them were soldiers and warriors. So they could fight. But the child? She would be caught in this crossfire. They had already lost the son. The daughter of Mahendra Bahubali and Avantika was now the only hope left for both Mahishmati and also Vijayapuri. She, Shodasi Devi, too had no successors to carry on the burning baton of hope after her. This child had to be saved.

Shodasi Devi quickly gave the signal of danger by blowing her conch before she made a dash for the woods carrying the child in her arms. Bhagiradhi was clueless about what was happening. All that she knew was that they were running away from some sort of danger again. They reached a tall banyan tree with sprawling branches and straddling creepers. Shodasi reasoned with herself, "This ought to be safe enough."

She breathlessly asked, "Can you climb?"

Bhagiradhi looked at her inquisitively, her eyebrows arched and raised, asking without asking, "What?"

"This tree!"

Bhagiradhi prepared to climb the tree. Though difficult, it was not impossible. She remembered the Mallakhamba lessons taught to her by Kattappa Thatha.
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Bhagiradhi's Flashback
"Mallakhamba, the wrestling pole, derived from Malla referring to a wrestler and Khamba referring to a tall pole made of rosewood, is one of our ancient martial arts form practiced by soldiers and warriors in our country from time immemorial. The pole used for this practice is traditionally anointed with castor oil to improve the strength and grip of the practioner", instructed Kattappa.

Bhagiradhi squealed, "But what if I fall while climbing, Thatha?"

Kattappa reassured, "Don't be afraid! I am here to catch you! Just go ahead!"

"What if I fall a fifty times?"

"Your Kattappa Thatha will catch you all those fifty times from falling."

"What if I fall the fifty-first time too?"

"I don't think that is possible."

"Why?"

"Because my little princess would have learnt to climb without falling before the fifty-first time. She will not need me anymore after that."

End of Bhagiradhi's Flashback
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Back to the Present,

Bhagiradhi thought within herself, "I learnt to climb on my own without falling Thatha. But I still need you even today. Where did you vanish?"

As Bhagiradhi was climbing the tree, Shodasi Devi suddenly said, "Stop!" She handed Bhagiradhi the sharp sword from her scabbard telling, "Take this. When in danger fight!" She however stopped midway thinking to herself about the apparent incongruity of asking a five or six year old child who wasn't old enough to fully read and write the entire alphabet to fight off humungous barbaric tribes.

She too had fought her own battles. But that was when she was old and strong enough and not when she was so young, frail, and fragile like this young child. She finally said in an apparently disconcerted voice, "Protect yourself with this as best as you can! SURVIVE!"

Bhagiradhi took the sword from her and proceeded to climb the tree. Shodasi Devi cautioned, "Careful....careful...Are you alright?"

Bhagiradhi reassured her, "I am alright. Don't worry! I can climb. Kattappa Thatha taught me.

"You will not get down this tree. You will remain wherever you are until I come back for you. You have the sword?" Devi asked. Bhagiradhi showed that she had kept the sword just near her.

Devi was leaving, "I have to go now." She turned back again and said, "Don't play with the sword and don't hurt yourself with it. It is very heavy. Be careful. I wouldn't have given it to you if the situation wasn't so dangerous. It is only meant for self-protection. Got it?"

Once Shodasi had left, Bhagiradhi sat staring at the sword long and hard. Her hands started shivering. She was sweating profusely. It was the first time she was holding a sharp, pointed and deadly adult's sword. The ones she used for practice in Mahishmati were small and blunt without any pointed edges. They had been specially crafted for her. Ones that wouldn't hurt or cause a single scratch.This one in front of her was sharp and deadly, good enough to kill a person.

She was Kshatriya. Everybody used to say that the blood of great and redoubtable warriors ran in her veins. Did she have it in her to be a warrior like her father, her mother, her grandmother, her grandfather, her great grandmother and many more in her family? Could she actually rise up to the occassion? When the time for that came, could she actually kill anyone with that sword? When the time for that came, could she actually save herself and others with that sword?
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