It has been five years since Queen Vasundhara's death, and three years since the birth of Harishchandra,
The Vyangadesh palace is tense, heavy with whispers and unease. Rumors of rebellion have reached the throne — nobles of Queen Vasundhara's family dare to question, plot, and scheme.
King Raghunath sits rigid on his throne, eyes dark and unyielding, fingers gripping the gilded arms. Courtiers and guards watch silently, hearts pounding. One misstep, one word — and death will be swift.
Damini leans close, calm and calculating. "They will not listen to reason. Show them your strength."
Raghunath's lips curl into a cold smile. "Strength… and fear."
A herald steps forward. "Your Majesty, Karan… eldest son of Queen Vasundhara's family and also her brother, refuses to bow. He rallies support among Western provinces."
"Bring him forward," Raghunath commands, voice low, dangerous.
Chains rattle as Karan is dragged in, tall, proud, defiant. His eyes burn with grief and fury.
"You killed my sister unjustly!" Karan shouts, voice echoing. "You robbed Vyangadesh of honor!"
"You speak too freely," Raghunath says, standing. The runes on his sword glow crimson. He nocks an arrow, dark magic humming along the shaft.
"I speak truth," Karan retorts. "And truth cannot die, even if you think to kill it!"
Raghunath laughs, a low, dangerous sound that echoes across the marble hall. "Then let us see if your truth can survive me."
With a roar, the king moves. Sword flashes, arrows fire, magic shimmers in the air. The first arrow strikes near Karan, flames licking the marble. Guards lunge, but Raghunath spins, slicing through armor with deadly precision, leaving faint trails of red light.
"You dare defy me?" Raghunath growls, advancing.
"I defy your cruelty!" Karan roars, struggling against chains. "I mourn my sister, and I will not bow to a tyrant!"
Raghunath's sword slashes, deflecting a guard's intervention. Another arrow pins a noble's cloak to a pillar. Torches flare, shadows twist unnaturally, and the floor trembles beneath them.
"You think words save you?" the king snarls. "Only power speaks here. Only fear!"
Karan stares, chest heaving. "Your fear is all that rules you… But I will not kneel!"
Raghunath raises his bow, murmuring an incantation. The arrow glows black, humming with dark magic. With a precise shot, it strikes true. blood spreads across the marble as Karan collapses.
Even as Karan falls, the king commands: "Arrest all who conspired with him! Nobles and soldiers alike — drag them here!"
Chains rattle as several nobles and guards are rounded up, faces pale with terror. One mutters, "We only sought justice…" Another trembles, eyes wide with fear.
Damini watches from her throne, calm and poised. "Order… must be absolute," she whispers.
The chamber falls silent. Raghunath sheaths his sword, eyes dark and sweeping the room. "Remember this day," he says, voice low, menacing. "Vyangadesh bends only to me. Defy me, and you die. Betray me, and your line dies with you."
Outside the palace, whispers spread: a king who has become a storm, a ruler whose wrath strikes faster than thought.
Meanwhile, far away in a quiet village, a small boy sleeps peacefully. Prithvi, five years old, does not know that his true kingdom is drenched in blood, and that his destiny is already taking shape — waiting for the day the sun-marked child will rise.