Dharmyudh, which means 'Battle for Justice'
What happens when fate decides to take a steep turn ?
Could it change the destiny of Aryavarth ?
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"Will there be a dharm...
In the expansive medical room of the palace, the afternoon sunlight streamed through tall windows adorned with intricate curtains. The air carried the subtle scent of autumn leaves, and a gentle breeze rustled the pages of medical charts on a polished wooden desk. The room was silent, save for the distant murmur of palace life. A pair of majestic birds perched on a tree branch just outside the window, tending to their nest. The rhythmic flapping of wings echoed faintly through the room. The birds, in synchronized elegance, fed their hungry chicks.
Pristi sat beside her elder brother, Vikram, in a solemn chair, her gaze fixed on his unconscious form. The medical room, with its subdued lighting, cast a soft glow on her worried expression. Vikram's body, covered in carefully placed bandages, wounds slowly healing under the watchful eyes of the palace physicians.
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The room was hushed, save for the occasional murmur of the healers consulting nearby. Pristi clasped her hands together, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and determination. The doctors, though cautious, noted the positive signs of healing in Vikram's condition. However, they remained vigilant, unwilling to take any chances with the monarch's recovery.
Outside the window, the birds on the tree branch continued their soothing routine, a natural tableau of life and renewal. The cool autumn breeze gently swayed the curtains, creating a momentary respite from the gravity of the situation. Pristi, torn between the responsibilities of royalty and the vulnerability of familial bonds, kept a silent vigil by her brother's side, hopeful for his eventual awakening.
Lost in the depths of her prayers, Pristi remained by her brother's side, the passage of time becoming an elusive concept in the quiet room. The flickering candles cast shadows on the walls, creating a sacred ambiance that enveloped her in a cocoon of hope and devotion. The soft murmurs of her prayers filled the air, a whispered plea for her brother's recovery.
In the stillness of the medical room, the princess found solace in the act of prayer, a timeless connection between the earthly realm and something greater. Her heart, heavy with concern, sought comfort in the belief that her words could transcend the boundaries of the physical world and reach a realm where healing and protection could be granted.
As Pristi sat beside her unconscious brother, her gaze fixed on his tranquil face, her mind involuntarily slipped into the realm of a haunting flashback. The room seemed to blur as memories of the worst day of her life flooded back, a day that marked the inception of the troubles that lingered.
In the hazy recollection, she found herself transported to a moment where decisions weighed heavily on her shoulders. The echoes of that pivotal choice reverberated through her thoughts, casting shadows on the present. Doubt gnawed at her, and she questioned the paths she had chosen.
The flashback unfolded like a vivid painting: a tapestry of emotions, regrets, and the consequences of choices made. Pristi's eyes, fixed on her brother's face, betrayed the conflict within her. The room's serenity clashed with the storm of memories in her mind.
