Rajendra stood amidst the vast expanse of the battlefield, his gaze heavy as he surveyed the endless stretch of lifeless bodies. His armor bore the scars of a war that seemed eternal, but his eyes reflected something deeper—weariness, sorrow, and defiance.
He exhaled deeply, his voice resonating with the weight of centuries of conflict. “See this realm, Chandika. Everywhere you look, there are dead bodies. Centuries ago, this place was drenched in blood, and nothing has changed since. This ground demands its fill of life—over and over. Look around you. Every corner of this cursed land is littered with bodies robbed of their life force.”
Chandika, standing a few steps away, was silent for a moment. The winds carried the stench of death, a grim testament to their endless battle. Her dark, piercing eyes scanned the desolate field, and she shuddered. “This place…” she began, her voice quiet but trembling with emotion. “It’s worse than hell. At least in hell, there’s a reason for the suffering. Here, we’re just thrown into this endless cycle of fighting and dying. Why do we fight, Rajendra? What’s the point?”
Rajendra turned to face her, his expression somber yet resolute. “I don’t know either,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “But the more I think about it, the more it feels like we’re nothing more than puppets—controlled by some higher power. They watch us tear each other apart, reveling in the chaos they’ve created. But no more, Chandika.” He took a step toward her, his aura no longer one of defiance, but of determination. “I won’t fight anymore. I refuse to play their game.”
His eyes softened as they met hers, and his next words carried an emotion that was undeniable, even amidst the ruin around them. “Instead of fighting, I’ll love you. I’ll break free from their cycle and choose something that’s mine—us.”
Chandika’s expression flickered, her steely resolve giving way to a vulnerability she couldn’t hide. For the first time, the thought of ending this endless battle didn’t feel like weakness—it felt like freedom.
“But what are we going to do?” Chandika asked, her voice wavering. “Neither of our sides will accept us being together. They’ll probably try to kill us. And I don’t want to kill anymore.”
Rajendra’s gaze held steady. “No, we’ll try. I’ll go to heaven and speak to my elders about this. They might agree. You go to hell and speak to yours. And if neither side accepts us...”
He paused, his eyes meeting hers with unwavering resolve. “Then we’ll run away. We’ll meet on Earth, in the mortal realm. There’s only a month left until the gates open again.”
Chandika considered his words, her heart pounding. The idea of defying everything they’d ever known was terrifying—but it was also exhilarating. Finally, she nodded. “Alright,” she agreed. “But until then, what do we do?”
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Rajendra looked around at the desolation surrounding them. “Until then, we’ll bury these bodies,” he said solemnly. “The bodies of those who fought in wars past. We’ll give them the funeral they were denied and write a note for those who come after, so they understand the cost of war and never wage it in this realm again.”
Chandika’s eyes softened as she watched him. “Even here, in this place of death, you find a way to bring peace,” she said quietly.
Rajendra glanced at her, a faint smile playing on his lips. “It’s not peace for them alone,” he replied. “It’s for us too. Let’s honor them, and maybe—just maybe—we’ll find the strength to change our destiny.”
The month passed in tense talks and grueling tasks, and for Rajendra and Chandika, it was a time that would stay with them, etched in their minds till death. When the gate finally opened, Rajendra’s voice was heavy, weighed down by the uncertainty of what lay ahead. “Let’s meet again,” he said, his words deliberate, full of quiet intensity. “I hope they all will agree... or we’ll meet on Earth.”
They exited the realm, each heading toward their respective paths. Rajendra reached heaven, and Chandika reached hell. Their elders, proud of them, said, “You really are impressive. You defeated them—it’s amazing. This time, I thought both sides were going to get wiped away. The fight going on there was so intense that the clashes of weapons could be heard in all realms. The power of your battles was unimaginable—it shook the realms so violently that it resonated across all planes.”
But as they noticed the downcast faces of Rajendra and Chandika, the elders added, “Don’t be sad. I know you grieve for the army, but you’ve won, and that’s what you should focus on. Their lives have not gone to waste.”
Both sides’ elders, delighted by the victory, began organizing a grand party. When these plans were revealed, Rajendra and Chandika tried their hardest to speak their truth. Both said, “I have not won, and neither has the other side won.”
The elders paused, confused and apprehensive, as though sensing something amiss. “What do you mean?” they asked.
Rajendra and Chandika replied, “No one won. At last, we didn’t fight. And Rajendra and Chandika—we love each other.”
The elders, upon hearing this, fell to the ground in shock and fury. In terrifying voices, they declared, “You don’t deserve to live,” and commanded everyone to attack Rajendra and Chandika.
Both warriors, grievously injured, managed to escape and met on Earth. However, the gods and demons continued to hunt them down. The injuries and curses they bore stripped them of their immortality, reducing them to mere humans—a punishment from both heaven and hell. They were left weak, cursed to live as mortals. But some of their powers remained, allowing them to heal each other and recover enough to ensure they could continue living. To avoid any misunderstanding, they used their remaining strength to heal each other's wounds completely.
Finding refuge, they began a new life in a forest far from human settlements. The forest was teeming with wild beasts, yet these creatures mysteriously refrained from attacking them. Instead, the animals seemed to revere Rajendra and Chandika, treating them as their lords. Occasionally, for essential supplies or to sell goods, the couple ventured into nearby towns and cities, maintaining a fragile connection to the mortal world.
A year passed, and Chandika gave birth to a baby boy. They named him Devansura, a name carrying the weight of their dreams and defiance.