06 | A New Day

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The battle had raged on, from the first rays of daylight to the night of bright stars. Yet the women stood at the towers upon the fortress without pause, except for the occasional gagging sound heard from the back as creatures attacked men, men attacked gandharvas and devas irrespective of who they were.

Her grip on the railings was tight, her knuckles nearly white as she desperately scanned the arena of battle for the one who was supposed to be their saviour.

The loud and powerful cry of an eagle drew everyone's attention to the skies painted with baby blue. This sound too, drew hope up to an everlasting flame within her heart; as it was so unlike the cry of the vultures that kept a watch on the women.

The clashes and clanging of swords against each other, the whizzing of arrows past ears stilled and it was as though the world had stopped for just a moment.

Her eyes took in the sight, tears of bliss rolling down her countenance as she felt at immediate peace with the world.

Upon the great wings of the eagle sat two figures so bright that their mortal raiments glowed with innate light. The man was as dark as a cloud of rain just before the thunderstorms, an ochre yellow paridhana a bright contrast to his countenance. Upon his diadem which bound unruly curls danced a peacock feather in perpetual ecstasy whether it was in battle or blissful dance. In his hands was a bow that seemed to be made of a metal not found within this realm.

The woman instantly reminded her of the protective way a mother would embrace her child, eyes that shone with the reflective rays of the sun glimmering on the water bodies. The green and blue saari she was in complemented her golden complexion, her expression one of righteous fury and hidden pain as she instantly aimed at one of the soldiers, only staying her hand because the man—Krishna Vaasudeva, she realised belatedly—placed a hand on her thigh, such love dancing through their eyes.

"Narakasura son of BhuDevi, come out to face your death!" the powerful voice of Krishna son of Vasudeva travelled through the battlefield, striking terror into the hearts of the warriors of Narakasura.

One stepped from the shadows, but it was not their captor but Mura, his general.

"Who art thou to demand aught of thy lord and master? Bow now, and thy fault shalt be forgiven and thy wife's life safe. Our lord and master does not bow to any but his mother."

"Come out, thou base-born!" came the soft but reverberating voice of Krishna's wife. "Mura, thy life shall not be spared for the insult to my husband."

Mura sneered.

"And who art thou to presume that I may be killed? I am the servant of the greatest lord this world has seen, and under his protection."

"Enough of bandying useless words about, fool!" It was Krishna's wife who shot the first arrow so quickly that she was unable to discern how Krishna's wife mounted it.

The battle began anew.

Krishna and his lady shared a single glance before they began to shoot arrows in tandem, decimating the forces of Narakasura. Panicked, the archers fumbled to shoot in their direction, but were either shot down by the arrows shot by the divine couple on Garuda or if they managed to shoot in the general direction of the sky, Garuda swooped, tucked his wings and shielded his lord and lady from the arrows.

Krishna jumped down from his mount, his bow and quiver shimmering away and his mace appearing in his hand as he advanced towards Mura.

Her eyes were torn between the battle of Krishna and Mura, and the graceful war dance of Krishna's wife and her accurate archery, as their mount swooped, turned and even twisted in an effort to evade the sharp arrows.

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