Warjuna: Mathura


It was a warm night.

The light from the street torches were slowly dimming, taking the shine away from the polished stone walls of Mathura’s lavish buildings and monuments. The chatter of people slowly faded to give way to the sounds of crickets and other nocturnal beings. While most retreated to the comforts of their personal chambers, the silhouettes of the King of Mathura – Kedaavar Nanda and his advisor – Lalgunya were seen on the terrace of the royal palace.

The king was big in size, broad shouldered with thick flowing hair that showed no signs of ageing. Covering his strong torso was a thin sheet of white Komparion silk, and his lower garment was of the same material.  His advisor, an aged theologian, was dressed in a royal blue uniform.

“So it is true,” Kedaavar said, his voice low yet regal.

“Yes, your majesty,” replied Lalgunya. “His Royal Highness Kamsa was spotted near the great lake…”

“Since when do we treat rabid dogs with respect, mithra ?” Kedaavar said, calm despite the gravity of his words. “Kamsa may be my little brother, but he is a threat to us. It is not without reason that he was banished from Mathura. He knows no boundaries and owns no morals.”

Lalgunya grimaced; the hurt in his deep sigh unmistakable. He was quick to regain his composure but Kedaavar had been watching him.

“You still have fond memories of my little brother,” Kedaavar said painfully, and then looked into the night sky. “But this has to end, mithra. Kamsa must die…”

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