Duty and Desire
“Did you inform the King before coming here?” Rudhra asked, lifting the trident and handing it to Yodhika.
“No. They’re all busy with something,” she replied. With a soft click, the trident retracted into a compact rod, which she slid into its holder. She then took out two kerchiefs—one to cover her head, the other to veil the lower half of her face.
“What are you doing?” Rudhra asked.
“I don’t want to be identified by the citizens.”
“Oh. Okay.”
They exited the apartment and began descending the stairwell.
“Do you know the history of the Amirthyas, Princess?” Rudhra asked as they climbed down.
Yodhika remained silent.
“We were once ignorant tribals,” Rudhra continued, his voice steady. “We knew nothing of the world beyond survival. A child—one we came to worship as God—made us immortal. For thousands of years, we lived isolated on this island, refusing entry to any outside community.”
They reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the streets of Avantaveera , already alive with the daily routines of its citizens.
“But the world beyond us grew,” he said as they walked. “Though immortal, our numbers were few. King Akira Amirthya, who ruled at the time, was reluctant to embrace change. Then one day, a powerful force attacked us. We stood on the brink of defeat.”
Rudhra paused briefly, then went on. “That was when the Pranvars arrived. They were enemies of our invaders—warriors who had already lost their own land. They fought alongside us and defeated the invaders here in Avantaveera.”
“King Akira realized he lacked the vision to lead,” Rudhra said. “He handed power to Urjeshwar, the leader of the Pranvars. In return, Urjeshwar agreed to honor the wishes of the Amirthyas—keeping us away from the outside world while they fought its battles.”
They passed through a bustling street, the sounds of daily life unfolding around them.
“The Pranvars educated us,” Rudhra continued. “They developed our society. We—who once lived only to hunt, eat, and fight—were enlightened. We grew into this peaceful, orderly way of life.”
Lies, Yodhika thought.
“The current King, Devansh,” Rudhra added, “is especially kind and benevolent. He is working toward expanding our community and giving us a life equal to that of the Pranvars.”
Yodhika listened in silence, her face hidden beneath the cloth.
“I feel the same way when I touch you, Princess,” Rudhra said quietly. “Like I told you yesterday—I feel as though I was born to be with you. But I can’t.” He paused, forcing the words out. “In my right conscience, I can never betray his trust. None of us Pranvars can. Ever. We are indebted to him.”
The ground suddenly began to shake, the tremor rippling across the island of Avantaveera.
Rudhra and Yodhika instinctively crouched.
“What’s happening?” Rudhra asked.
Yodhika remained silent. It must be Wamon, she thought.
After a few moments, the tremor subsided.
“Must be an earthquake,” Rudhra said.
They stood up, as did everyone around them, murmurs spreading through the street as life slowly resumed.
“I hope you understand what I’m saying, Princess,” Rudhra continued gently. “Let’s meet again tomorrow—with clearer minds.”
He smiled.
Yodhika nodded, hesitant. She raised a hand in farewell and walked away.
Rudhra watched her go, his smile fading. As he turned toward his building, the memory of her touch lingered—the warmth of her hand, the closeness of their embrace—and his expression grew heavy with quiet sadness.
Yodhika entered through the palace gates as the guards bowed, walking slowly up the steps to the entrance while her mind wrestled with conflict—her duty to the Pranvar clan, her need for Rudhra’s presence, and the unthinkable question of whether she could ever betray her father.
She moved through the palace halls, lost in thought, until a voice cut sharply through her mind.
“Where were you?”
Queen Rekha Augustine stood before her, watching closely.
“I… just went outside for a bit,” Yodhika said, lifting her gaze.
“For what?”
“Why do you care?” Yodhika replied, defiance creeping into her tone.
“Yodhika! You are talking to your mother,” Rekha snapped, her voice rising.
“So what?” Yodhika asked, her eyes widening.
“So what?” The Queen’s face flushed with fury. “Where did you get the courage to talk back to me?”
Yodhika said nothing and walked past her, ignoring the shout of her name echoing behind her as her thoughts pulled her inward once again.
A knock sounded on Yodhika’s door, pulling her from restless thought. She opened her eyes, rose from her bed, and walked toward it. She was surprised to find Devansh standing outside when she opened the door.
“Father? Why are you here?” she asked.
“Do I need a reason to visit my daughter?” he said with a faint smile, stepping inside as she gestured for him to enter.
He took the chair near her grand bed, and she remained standing, suddenly aware of the weight in the room.
“How did the mission go?” she asked.
“It went well. Wamon performed successfully,” Devansh replied, watching her closely.
“So that was the tremor we felt today,” Yodhika said, forcing calm into her voice.
“Yes. The Ashura warriors were able to subdue the wave it generated,” he said, his smile returning briefly.
“Good,” she said, though the word felt hollow.
“Your mother says you misbehaved with her today,” Devansh said casually, as though testing the waters. “What happened?”
Yodhika stayed silent.
“I don’t mind that you did,” he continued, his tone shifting. “But it isn’t like you. What caused this sudden change in behavior?”
“N… nothing. I was just in a bad mood,” she replied carefully.
“Bad mood?” His expression hardened slightly. “You failed to maintain a stable mind?”
“No. I just didn’t like her questioning me.”
Devansh studied her for a long moment before speaking again.
“If that’s all, then it’s fine,” he said, pausing deliberately. “What did she question you about?”
“I went for a walk and came back,” Yodhika said, choosing each word. “She asked where I had been, and I didn’t like it.”
Devansh’s gaze didn’t soften. “Where were you?”
“I went for a walk—to think about new ways to fight, to gain a fresh perspective,” she answered.
“Did you find one?”
“Yes. I’ll try it tomorrow.”
“Good,” Devansh said. “Don’t overthink your fights with Rudhra. They are practice—for you to end them easily when the time comes, to reinforce defeat in his mind and erode his confidence subconsciously. You understand that, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“Maintain a stable mind and do exactly as I say,” he continued, his voice lowering. “We are close to revealing ourselves to the world, and centuries of suffering will soon end. You are a key player in our plan.”
He stood, adjusting his coat.
“And since you didn’t fight today,” he added, “don’t dull your instincts tomorrow. Crush him—like you always do.”
“Father, I—” Yodhika began, then stopped.
Devansh turned back. “What?”
Should I tell him? she thought. No.
“Nothing,” she said quietly. “I will follow your orders. No matter what.”
Devansh held her gaze for a moment longer, then nodded.
“I know,” he said, and left the room. Yodhika closed the door, returned to her bed, and lay staring at the ceiling as her thoughts collided, unresolved.
(To be continued)
Karun G Nath 
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