Bloodshed

Hastinapur,

Gajasahrya

Arjun's POV

The Moon hung low in the dark sky, the soft  clouds floating around and occasionally abstracting the huge shining orb. A faint smile kicked off my lips as I kept staring at the silvery celestial body from the window, it gave me a sense of peace for some vague reason.

But it seems like nature wasn't complying with me today. The clouds shrouded the gleaming Moon after sometime as I lowered my lashes dejectedly, flipping on the other side of my huge bed. My eyes fell on the other side, were certain intricate items were kept, and a huge mirror on the left.I sighed, my chamber didn't lack anything to make it appear grand.

Only one thing, simplicity. My thin figure was never used to be huddled from both sides by my brothers, the warmth, the comfort.

For some reason I was yearning for the hay mattress instead of this. Those flimsy cloths appeared to provide me more comfort.

Or the lap of Maata Kunti, how her clothes smelled of fruits and wet mud. Or those long comforting fingers of Pitashree, which went past my unruly curls--I discarded such thoughts and ascended up, breathing for a while. Sleep wouldn't grace me tonight, my lashes weren't urging to close.

Creeping out of the bed, the huge copper door creaked open as I sneaked, peering on the either side.

A whiff of cool wind greeted me from the huge section balcony of the corridor, as my glance went directly to it, overlooking the vast gardens of the palace.

It weren't unruly as the forests, the trees were neatly nipped, the edges were decorated and proper paths were constructed of stones. I strode towards it, resting my arms on the railings and overlooking it, keenly watching the guards striding from one end to the other to keep a watch.Always under a watch, are we?

There were guards lurking in the corridors too, moving from one end to the other and their occasional glances falling upon me. We could ask them for assistance if required, I remember what we were told. "Raajkumar."

A few of them would bow down as I glanced at them amusedly while walking, not knowing what to respond so I bowed at them back, smiling faintly.

"Raajkumar Arjun?"

How about just Arjun?

I began to stroll through the corridors, observing in the dim light. The carvings on the walls, the pillars, the statues of marbles posted at intervals.

My eyes casually fell upon a huge painting hanging on one side of the wall, depicting a battlefield. I had seen the picture of one carved in one of the parchments I owned, back in Shatasringa.

Amusement grasped me, as I kept on figuring its minute details. The colors were fresh, they were intricately brushed upon the figures, who were lunging over each other in the painting. Some stood still behind, some were being thrashed, some piercing with swords, a few of them shooting arrows and some being beheaded.

And red color spluttered on the lower part of the canvas.It was, blood. I had heard from Pitashree, about the bloodshed which occurs during wars.

Even asked about it to him, "do soldiers willingly give up their life? Without any fear? Without expecting anything?"

He would reply, "That is what a true Kshatriya does Arjuna. Their duty is to protect the common citizens, so that they stay unharmed."

"Willingly? What about their family?"

A sigh left my lips as I recalled the moments spent in his lap, curiously listening to his conquests, "Don't they worry about it?"

"Yes son, willingly. For them, nothing is greater than protecting their own Motherland. Such would be their devotion, even their family members would never halt them from performing their duties."

"Their emotions? Ho-how would it feel to hear the news of their beloveds dying?"

I remember how I had felt slightly skeptical, even Pitashree too.

But his lips had kicked into a lopsided smile he answered, "I know Arjun. But as a Kshatriya, the only emotions that prevails in them is their devotion for their Motherland. And look for a greater good. For them, the greater good is saving thousands of citizens from coming under the hands of the enemy Kingdoms."

"Family would come secondary to them?"

I had asked him in a low tone, my heart sinking slightly. "For the betterment of Motherland, everything is secondary, Arjuna."

"And giving up life on the battlefield is considered as one of the supreme form of bravery."

His eyes that day, had portrayed a sense of firmness while speaking about bloodsheds, while I kept on staring at them, assessing the level of the dedication of the Kshatriyas from his eyes.

"Don't worry, you will learn everything when time proceeds."

I was reminded of his words, and how he had promised he would teach me those techniques as well.

He had...

I kept on gaping at the painting, his words ringing in my ears. His words subsided but only his voice remained now, making a sob crawl up to my throat which I instantly gulped down.

I sighed in deeply, composing myself.

You can't fall weak Arjun, you can't. I shut my eyes, looking away and started striding passed the vast hall, observing the shadows dancing around.

As the night passed, the palace became more quiet, with only footsteps of guards being heard at intervals.I walked aimlessly, looking down at my dark toes and the side soles of my feet which always shone at intervals, when a new set of footsteps alerted me along with some whispers.

I concealed myself behind the pillar, my eyebrows knitting in confusion. It wouldn't be nice to be caught lurking in the palace at this odd hour, that too on our arrival.The whispers subsided and the footsteps firmed, I pulled myself back more.

My eyes landed on the floor, as the shadow of someone appeared to draw closer. A few men crossed me, followed by a tall muscular man, finely aged.

His beard and sideburns appeared white, his snow hued skin glowed under the fire lamps.His gait screamed royalty and firm sophistication, along with an unignorably leonine power.

He appeared to be a celebration of sheer eloquence and potent.No doubt, he was intimidating.I had seen him, during Pita's death ceremony and spoken a few formal words.

He maintained a sense of compose, though his dark blue oceanic orbs displayed how much he was hurt by Pitashree leaving us.

Maa and even Pita had be- forehandedly told us, He was our Grandsire, Pitamah Bheeshm, the revered son of Devi Ganga.