A severely injured Arjuna walked into the royal courtroom.
Few of his men were left standing; a handful were struggling to their knees while the remaining lay next to the dead Hayacrian soldiers who were scattered all across the courtroom. Whatever little space left on the floor had formed pools of blood. Arjuna did not find it difficult to walk over the corpses; he had been disrespectful towards the dead many times before.
“My lord,” said a soldier who offered help.
Arjuna raised a hand to resist, and then looked at the soldier. “You have severe injuries, Rehtir. Follow me into the cellar. The medicines…” and he noticed how the soldier’s gaze was fixed to the entrance of the courtroom. Arjuna felt a pain rise from the wound on his ribs, but managed to turn around slowly.
It was the blue skinned sorcerer – Prince Kanha of Dwaraka.
“…you… ” Arjuna spoke with clenched teeth.
“It has been a while,” Kanha spoke in his ever gentle voice.
“I have been busy killing people. I bear the stench of death now. Isn’t this what you wanted?” Arjuna spoke curtly. “I do not know what kind of a hero that would make me…”
“I never said you were meant to become a hero,” Kanha said with a smile. “What I said was you were destined to save lives – lives of the people of Bharata.”
Arjuna struggled to muster a laugh – a spiteful one. “Look around and see for yourself. How many lives have I saved?”
Rehtir was cautious as he decided to speak, his gaze fixed to the ground. “Pardon my words if they are out place, my lord, but you saved me, and my family from the Hayacree. Saved are the lives of Bashi, Kuma, Haran and their families as well…”
Arjuna remained silent.