𖤓┊𝐊𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐘𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐌 ⋆
━━━━━━ 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒓.
❛ . . . and she wonders if it's serenity that she craves, or savagery ? ❜
As the Kurus lament and the world cries out in pain cursing the destiny, the charming trickster with a flute...
A distinct lacquered palace in Patala, housed the rising globe of unrighteousness. Ascending the axis of the firmament marking the break of dawn, the solar god set his flaming gaze at the land which was but a part of Bhoomi herself, but under the influence of sinister forces.
Striding from end to end of the onyx cathedra, the head of the Asuras pondered upon his next moves. In order to gain control over the mortals who protested vehemently against his reign, Vikral was mindful he had to move to their subconscious. Such was his might and arrogance amalgamated, he resolved to choose the path of the unrighteous and proclaim himself the lord of the three worlds.
"My dear compadre," he addressed the Daitya and Danava clans with vigour to add fuel to their raging hedonism, a booming edge to his gruff articulation. "We all are cognizant of the way Svarga was meted out to the Devatas through chauvinistic means, despite the fact that it were indeed our races that deserved to reside over it and still do."
The provokation earned a prompt warcry, several of them raised their armaments and brandished them wildly, rage surging through them. With a sickening smile, AsuraRaja let his eyes move greedily between the troops which were halved, a crafty glint in them.
"Order us, Maharaja!"
"Take over Svarga and throw the Devas out. The other half of the demonic delegation will accompany you later." He flashed a lopsided grin, a lascivious sneer shortly after lilting in his grotesque features, "And, hand out 12 potent men to chaperon the DevaPatnis."
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"The audacity!" The queen of heavens rose from her seat of potentate, raving, clenching and unclenching the sword secured in the scabbard attached to her dark green robes. The other Devis too stood seething in their places, their frames trembling as the Devas assembled in the symposium hall.
Along the broadness of the central mahogany table chiselled and carved in auspicious designs of peacock and water lilies, a map was sprawled. The divinities gathered around, moving the pawns according to the strategy they were devising.
"Their armies aren't yet at our doorstep," Varuna began, looking up unsurely at the eldest Aaditya, Vivasvana Surya, who looked pleased with himself.
"We are adopting the guerrilla warfare technique though, baby brother."
"Kapata (deceptive) aur Prakata (overt) war, both of them are fair." Shakra tersely stated, his stance hardening. "Despite continuous efforts, he's unbudging."
"Worry not DevaRaja, they'll not be able to blame us this time." Yama spoke with his head held high, pearls of trepidation bedecking his bronze hued skin, as warm and embracing as death itself - for he was verily the personification of it.
