Love Across Time

Ninety Two

-𝓐𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓢𝓮𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷-

"Abhimanyu," Aanya breathed, the name catching in her throat like a shard of glass. Disbelief warred with a dread so profound it threatened to consume her. How could this be? Stealing a glance at Kanha's retreating figure, a whirlwind of emotions, fear, confusion, and a flicker of anger so potent it tasted like ash, churned within her. Kanha was the sole keeper of secrets, the only one who could unravel the tangled threads and explain this sudden, suffocating despair.

Arjun, his brow furrowed in concern, watched as Aanya rose with a newfound urgency. "Where are you going?" he asked, his voice laced with a worry that mirrored her own.

"I need to talk to Kanha," she choked out, the raw vulnerability in her voice a stark contrast to the stoicism she'd maintained throughout their exile. Arjun understood, a silent nod confirming her unspoken plea.

"Be careful," he whispered, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. The tenderness in his touch, a fleeting reminder of a love once whole, sent a tremor through her. This secret, whatever it may be, threatened to shatter the fragile peace they'd managed to build amidst the ruins of their past.

Following Kanha deeper into the verdant embrace of the forest, Aanya quickened her pace. Desperation, a burning ember in her eyes, fueled her steps. "Kanha!" she called out, her voice raw with vulnerability. Reaching a secluded clearing, bathed in dappled sunlight filtering through a canopy of trees, she stopped, blinking back tears that threatened to spill. Her voice, a mere whisper lost in the rustling leaves, choked out the question that hung heavy in the air, "This can't be what I think it is, right?" The weight of the future echoed in the silence, a silent plea for Kanha to dispel the chilling truth that swirled in the depths of her mind.

Kanha turned to face her, his ever-knowing eyes clouded with a profound sadness that mirrored the storm brewing within Aanya. The weight of his unspoken reply hung heavy in the air, a chilling confirmation of Aanya's worst fears.

"But how can my son...?" Her voice cracked, the question dissolving into a desperate plea. "No...no. That's supposed to be Subhadra's Abhimanyu, then how can you let Arjun name my son this?" The words tumbled out, laced with a raw mix of grief and anger. "Am I expected to lose everything?" The forest seemed to hold its breath, the dappled sunlight failing to penetrate the weight of her despair. This name, a whisper that shattered time, threatened to shatter the fragile peace they'd so desperately sought.

Kanha remained silent for a moment, a silent statue carved from empathy and an impossible truth. His response, when it came, was soft yet laced with a truth that chilled Aanya to the bone. "Your presence here, Aanya, has altered the threads of destiny. You can do nothing but bear the consequences that ripple outwards, like stones cast into a still pond."

A cold dread gripped Aanya's heart, a serpent coiling tighter with each beat. The word destiny hung in the air, a dark omen that choked the warmth that had bloomed with her son's birth. The future she'd envisioned, a fragile hope cradled in her arms, was dissolving before her eyes.

"No," she breathed, the word a desperate plea that echoed through the silent trees. "Not him. Not my son." Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the image of Kanha and threatening to spill over, a torrent of grief for a future stolen and a son burdened with a name that held the weight of a future yet to unfold. The weight of everything settled upon her shoulders, and in that moment, Aanya understood the true cost of altering fate, a cost measured in the blood of her child.

Kanha's expression remained stoic, a mask that failed to hide the flicker of pain in his eyes. His voice, usually rich and comforting, was now devoid of warmth as he spoke. "That's his destiny, Aanya."