Love Across Time

Sixty Three

-𝓐 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮-

The day dawned, a canvas of vibrant orange bleeding into a clear blue sky. Inside her chamber, Aanya sat stiffly before a large ornate mirror. Her reflection stared back, a vision in crimson silk that shimmered with every nervous breath she took. Maidservants flitted around her, adorning her wrists with intricately designed gold bangles, their rhythmic clinking a stark counterpoint to the frantic hammering of her heart.

Her heart beating with doubts, she closed her eyes as the tears tickled down her cheek. Aanya couldn't tear her gaze away from her hands, their crimson color mirroring the blossoming panic within her. Yudhishthira's promise of Arjun winning the Swayamvara echoed in her mind, but the "how" remained a frustrating mystery. Every passing moment fueled a growing sense of dread.

She could feel her heart tightening with fear, fear of uncertainty. She wanted to trust the faith, trust her Kanha, trust her love, trust Arjun, but the fear couldn't let her do that. She looked at her reflection in the mirror.

Just then, the silken drapes separating her chamber from the hallway billowed open, revealing Kanha. A vision of serenity in his azure dhoti and peacock-feathered crown, his smile radiated a warmth that instantly soothed the churning in Aanya's stomach. Relief washed over her like a cool wave, washing away the growing panic that had threatened to consume her.

"Aanya," Kanha greeted, his voice like the tinkling of temple bells. "The day has arrived."

Aanya forced a smile in return, her eyes filled with unspoken worries. "Kanha," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, the weight of the impending ceremony pressing down on her. "I don't know if I can do this."

Kamha stepped closer, his gentle gaze holding hers. "You are strong, Aanya," he said, his voice infused with a quiet confidence that resonated deep within her. "But even the strongest warriors need a moment of doubt. It's what separates courage from recklessness." He paused, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Would a story help settle your nerves?"

Aanya, surprised by the suggestion, hesitated for a moment. "Right now?" she asked, a hint of skepticism lacing her voice.

Kanha chuckled softly. "The best stories are often told at the most unexpected moments," he replied. "Do you know the tale of Devi Shachi?"

Aanya shook her head, her curiosity piqued despite her anxieties. "Who is she?" she inquired, leaning forward slightly.

Kanha smiled, a mischievous glint sparkling in his dark eyes. "Ah, that," he said, "is a story waiting to be told." The promise of the story hung in the air, a welcome distraction from the looming ceremony. With a newfound sense of calm, Aanya settled back, ready to listen as Kanha's soothing voice filled the chamber with the tale of Devi Shachi.

Kanha settled onto a cushioned stool beside Aanya, his gaze twinkling with amusement. "Ah, Devi Shachi," he began, his voice weaving a tapestry of sound, "wife of Indra, the king of the gods. A woman known for her fiery spirit and unwavering devotion."

He paused, letting the image settle in Aanya's mind before continuing. "Shachi, along with three other goddesses, Shyamala Devi, Ushadevi, and Parvati Devi, found themselves entangled in a curse. A curse that bound them to endure trials and tribulations in the mortal realm."

A deep frown creased Aanya's brow. "But why, Kanha? Why would such powerful goddesses be cursed?"

Kanha smiled enigmatically. "Even the heavens, Aanya, have their own set of rules, their own code of discipline. Sometimes, even goddesses can overstep their bounds, their desires clashing with the celestial order." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Legends whisper of a forbidden ritual, a desperate attempt to alter fate itself."