The training grounds hummed with the sounds of wooden swords clashing against each other, the rhythmic thud of feet shifting over the packed earth, and Nakul’s steady voice correcting Anveeksha’s stance.

"Again," he instructed, watching as his daughter squared her shoulders, gripping her training sword tightly. She lunged, her movements still a touch hesitant but steadily growing stronger under her father’s careful guidance.

A few steps away, Abhijishya sat cross-legged on the low wooden platform, her gaze flickering between the parchments she was reviewing and the small boy sitting beside her. Prativindhya—Vindu to those who doted on him—was happily preoccupied with his wooden elephant and horse, rolling them across the platform with a soft hum.

Charu sat beside her, subtly watching over the child while keeping an amused eye on the training session.

"I think she’s getting better," Charu commented, nodding toward Anvi.

Abhijishya hummed in agreement, watching as Nakul adjusted Anvi’s grip.

"She is," she said, though her voice was distracted. Her fingers idly toyed with the edge of the scroll in her lap, mind racing not over the reports, but the impending reality of the Rajasuya Yagna.

The thought fully struck her only when Reva arrived, slightly out of breath, her face alight with excitement.

"Krishna and Satyaki will be arriving soon," she announced, her voice laced with anticipation.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, Abhijishya’s fingers curled around the parchment, realization settling in. It wasn’t just a visit. It wasn’t just Krishna returning to Indraprastha after many months. This was the first step. The Rajasuya Yagna was no longer a distant idea—it was now a reality.

She exhaled, steadying herself before folding the scrolls. Turning to Charu, she gently smoothed back Vindu’s soft curls.

"Mind him for a while?"

But Vindu, sharp-eyed and observant even at his young age, had already caught onto her movement. His small hands clutched at her sari.

"Dhruvi Ma?" His voice was uncertain.

Abhijishya hesitated. At two years and six months, Vindu had started noticing patterns—when she left, when she returned, and how sometimes, it took too long.

Charu leaned in with a warm smile. "Shall we go see the peacocks in the garden, Vindu?"

But the boy shook his head stubbornly, his lower lip jutting out in the beginning of a pout. His grip on Abhijishya’s sleeve tightened, his big eyes watching her as if gauging whether she would vanish if he so much as blinked.

Abhijishya softened, brushing a kiss against his forehead.

"I’ll be back soon, my dearest Vindu," she murmured. "Will you be good for Charu?"

Still, he hesitated before finally nodding, though his hands lingered on the fabric of her sari a moment longer before letting go.

With that settled, she turned to Nakul, calling out, "We should go. Bhrata Gopal will be expecting us."

With a brief nod to Anvi, Nakul ruffled her hair. "Keep practicing. We'll see how much you've improved when we return."

Anvi rolled her eyes, but a small, pleased smile played on her lips as she returned to her drills.

---

The sun hung low in the sky by the time Krishna and Satyaki’s chariot rolled through the grand gates of Indraprastha.

Draupadi and Subhadra had taken charge of the preparations, ensuring that the arrival was nothing short of grand. Flower garlands adorned the pillars, and fragrant petals had been scattered along the path leading to the palace entrance.

As Krishna stepped down from the chariot, the gathered crowd erupted in cheers.

Draupadi was the first to step forward, her regal grace evident as she folded her hands in greeting. But before she could utter a word, Krishna’s ever-playful smile widened.

"Years pass, yet you still greet me with such formality, Panchali?"

Draupadi’s lips twitched before she shook her head with a smile. "Would you rather I challenged you to a duel instead?"

Krishna laughed, his eyes shining with warmth. "That might be the only way to keep you from scolding me for staying away too long."

Draupadi let out a mock huff, but her eyes softened as she reached forward, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "It has been too long, Govind."

Subhadra, standing nearby, had been patiently waiting her turn. But the moment Krishna turned to her, she abandoned all pretense of formality, throwing her arms around him.

"Brother!"

Krishna chuckled, holding her close. "Ah, Subhadra, have they been treating you well here, or do I need to remind Arjuna that a wife’s happiness is a husband’s first duty?"

Subhadra laughed, pulling away with a teasing look. "I’ll let him wonder for a while before answering that."

As Krishna greeted each of his brothers in turn, Anvi finally managed to push her way through, her small frame darting between the taller figures.

"Mamashree!" she called, her eyes bright with excitement.

Krishna turned at once, bending down just in time to catch her as she ran into his arms.

"Ah, my favorite niece," he greeted, lifting her easily. "Have you been defeating your opponents with skill and grace?"

Anvi puffed up proudly. "Baba says I am improving."

Krishna glanced at Nakul with a smirk. "Does he now? I suppose I’ll have to test you myself, then."

Abhijishya, having watched the interactions with quiet amusement, finally stepped forward.

"Must you always charm everyone within moments of arriving?" she teased.

Krishna turned to her, his expression shifting from playful to something warmer. He reached out, tugging her into a familiar side embrace.

"And must you always pretend to be unaffected by it?" he countered.

Abhijishya huffed. "I tolerate it."

"Of course," he said with a knowing smile.

At that moment, Satyaki—who had been mostly observing—was greeted with an entirely different kind of welcome.

Abhijishya turned to him with a slow, amused grin. "I hear you did not waste much time in winning over your beloved."

Satyaki, who had been taking a sip of water, nearly choked.

"Who told you—?"

"Does it matter?" Abhijishya smirked, folding her arms. "What matters is that you, a man who once claimed that marriage would come ‘someday far in the future,’ found himself quite the willing groom, didn’t you?"

Satyaki, caught in the teasing, flushed slightly before recovering. "It’s called efficiency, Abhijishya. Some of us don’t believe in unnecessary delays."

Abhijishya smirked. "Right. Efficiency."

Krishna chuckled, clapping Satyaki’s shoulder. "It seems my dear friend is still adjusting to being on the receiving end of teasing."

Before Satyaki could respond, Yudhishthir gestured toward the palace.

"Come inside," he said warmly. "We have much to discuss."

---

Seated in the council chamber, the mood turned serious. Krishna, now seated among them, leaned forward.

"The Rajasuya Yagna is no longer just an ambition," he said. "It is a path you must tread with precision. And your greatest obstacle in this path will be Jarasandh, the King of Magadh."

At his words, both Nakul and Abhijishya exchanged a glance—Atulya. Jatashya. The ghosts of conspiracies still fresh flickered in their minds.

"Jarasandh will not surrender easily," Krishna continued. "Which is why we will not attempt to subdue him in battle."

He paused, glancing at Bhima and Arjuna. "Instead, the three of us will go to Magadh and challenge him to combat. A duel. Bhima will face him in a wrestling match—and he will win."

The council chamber settled into a contemplative silence as Krishna’s words hung in the air.

Yudhishthir leaned forward, his fingers interlocked as he considered Krishna’s proposal. His measured gaze swept across the room before he spoke.

“Jarasandh is no ordinary king,” he said slowly. “He is a warrior of unparalleled strength, a ruler feared across Aryavarta, and a strategist who has kept Magadh unchallenged for years. His alliances stretch far and wide—many kings owe him their allegiance, either out of fear or gratitude.”

Krishna nodded. “Precisely why a direct war against him would be disastrous. He commands twenty-three akshauhinis of soldiers—”

“That is more than even the Kauravas command,” Sahadev interjected, his tone thoughtful. “If we were to march an army to his gates, we would be crushed before we even reached the heart of his kingdom.”

Arjuna, who had remained quiet thus far, finally spoke. His sharp eyes flickered with understanding. “Which is why you suggest we go in disguise and challenge him to a duel instead.”

Krishna smiled. “Exactly.”

Bheem cracked his knuckles, his expression eager. “It is the best approach. I have been waiting to face a worthy opponent.”

Abhijishya, seated near Nakul, tilted her head. “A wrestling match?”

Krishna turned to her. “Jarasandh is invincible in conventional warfare, but he has one weakness—his body.”

Sahadev, whose knowledge of omens and destiny was unmatched, spoke up. “Jarasandh was born in two halves. His father, King Brihadratha of Magadh, had two queens but no child. A rishi granted them a boon—a mango that would bless them with a son. The queens divided the fruit, but instead of one child, each gave birth to half a body.”

At this, Nakul made a face. “That is... disturbing.”

“It was,” Krishna agreed. “The two halves were abandoned, as they were deemed unnatural. But the demoness Jara, with her mystic powers, joined them together—and thus, Jarasandh was born. He lived, but his body has a seam—an unnatural fusion.”

Bheem's grin widened. “And that seam is his weakness, isn’t it?”

Krishna nodded. “If his body is torn apart at that seam, he will never come back to life.”

Sahadev, always the one to see the future with the clearest eyes, frowned. “Even so, it will not be easy. Magadh is a fortress, and Jarasandh is wary of outsiders. How do you propose the three of you even gain entry into his court?”

Krishna leaned back, his smile sharp. “We will go disguised as brahmanas.”

Yudhishthir raised a brow. “Brahmanas?”

“Jarasandh is a kshatriya,” Krishna explained. “He has a great sense of dharma and respects the code of warriors. If three unknown kshatriyas arrive at his gates, he would be suspicious. But if three brahmanas arrive seeking alms—he would be forced to grant them an audience.”

Arjuna nodded. “And once we are in his court?”

“We will reveal our true selves,” Krishna said. “We will challenge him to a trial by combat. Jarasandh is proud—he will not refuse.”

Abhijishya folded her arms. “And if he does?”

Krishna’s smile didn’t falter. “He won’t.”

Bheem chuckled. “Because he is arrogant and will want to prove his strength.”

“Exactly.” Krishna’s gaze turned serious. “Jarasandh believes himself invincible. He has conquered and imprisoned over a hundred kings, keeping them in chains, intending to sacrifice them to Rudra. He will want to defeat us to prove his supremacy.”

A heavy silence followed.

Yudhishthir sighed. “And what of those hundred kings? If he is defeated, what happens to them?”

Krishna met his elder cousin’s gaze steadily. “They will be freed. His death will shake Magadh’s foundations, and without his iron grip, many of his vassal kings will turn away. Magadh will lose its power, and its dominance will wane.”

Sahadev, always the most cautious, frowned. “Still, this is a risk. If something goes wrong…”

Bheem scoffed. “If something goes wrong, we fight our way out.”

Krishna shot him an amused look. “That is the last option.”

Yudhishthir looked between his brothers and Krishna. “You are certain of this plan?”

Krishna nodded. “It is the best way. A war would cost too many lives. A duel will be clean. Besides, if we succeed, the name of Indraprastha will rise. The kings of Aryavarta will see the Pandavas not just as rulers, but as conquerors. It will be the first step in the Rajasuya.”

There was a moment of silence as Yudhishthir considered everything. Then, finally, he gave a single nod.

“So be it. You will leave in two days.”

There was no more debate.

The first move had been made.

The Rajasuya Yagna was no longer a dream.