(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

Guys I hope you put more comments and power stones... Which will encourage me...

I was thinking about adding local deities too to the story. Any thought about This idea.

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Far away from the storm-darkened halls of Hastinapur—Beyond the growing tension surrounding the birth of Suryodana—

Another child entered the world that very same night and at the same time as him.

But unlike the suffocating atmosphere of Hastinapur...

This birth unfolded beneath the wild serenity of the mountains.

Deep within the forests surrounding the sacred Shatashringa Mountains, a quiet hermitage rested amidst towering trees and cold mountain winds.

Snow-covered peaks loomed in the distance beneath the moonlit skies.

Sacred fires burned softly around the ashram while sages continued their nightly chants peacefully.

Here lived Pandu.

The former king who had renounced his throne and royal comforts after the curse that changed his life forever.

Beside him remained his wives—Kunti and his second wife, Aathi.

Unlike the fear-filled birth occurring within Hastinapur...

The atmosphere here carried something calmer.

Sacred. Natural.

Though powerful in its own way.

Inside the hermitage, Kunti’s breathing grew heavier while mountain winds swirled unusually outside.

Because this child too was no ordinary birth.

Using the divine boon granted to her long ago—Kunti had invoked Vayu himself.

And the wind god had answered.

The air around the hermitage suddenly surged violently.

Not destructively—But powerfully.

The trees bent beneath roaring mountain winds.

Sacred winds danced wildly.

The very forest seemed to breathe with ancient force.

Then—The child was born. As Lord Vayu acknowledged the boon given by sage Durvasa.

The moment the infant cried—A fierce gust of wind swept across the entire hermitage.

The surrounding trees shook violently.

Nearby sages opened their eyes instantly in realization.

Because the divine energy surrounding this child felt immense.

Raw. Unrestrained.

Pandu meanwhile looked toward the newborn with overwhelmed emotion filling his face.

Unlike Hastinapur’s chamber wrapped in fearful prophecy—This moment carried relief.

Hope. Strength.

As he carefully took the child into his arms, Pandu could already feel the unusual weight and vitality radiating from the infant.

The child’s tiny fists clenched instinctively with startling force.

Even the attendants exchanged surprised looks.

Then Pandu smiled proudly.

"This child ...shall be called—Bhima"

"The mighty one."

"The force that none shall easily withstand."

Outside, the mountain winds roared once more across the forests of Shatashringa as though Vayu himself acknowledged the naming proudly.

And thus—On the same night fate marked the birth of Suryodana beneath storm and ominous prophecy...

Another prince was born beneath the sacred winds of the Himalayas.

Two children. One destiny.

With a question who will be the one to full fill the prophecy.

Two futures slowly beginning their journey beneath the gaze of the heavens.

Hastinaput...

Back within the guarded chambers beneath Hastinapur, the storm outside had weakened slightly—But the heaviness inside the cavern remained.

The astrologers had withdrawn quietly after delivering their terrifying interpretation, leaving behind a silence no one truly knew how to break.

Near the infant bed, Madri sat holding baby Suryodana close against her chest.

Her eyes remained red.

Not from fear for herself.

"...."

But from the crushing thought that her newborn son’s name had already become tied to destruction before he had even properly opened his eyes to the world.

A mother’s heart could endure many things.

But hearing that her child might someday destroy the very lineage he was born to protect—That wound cut deeply.

Nearby, Ambika slowly sat beside her.

Meanwhile Ambalika gently adjusted the blankets around the child before speaking softly.

"Do not let fear consume you."

Madri lowered her gaze silently.

"How can I not fear?"

She whispered weakly.

"They spoke as though my son is already cursed..."

Her voice trembled.

"As though his future is already decided."

The infant shifted lightly in her arms while she looked down at him emotionally.

"He has not even done anything wrong yet..."

Ambika’s expression softened hearing the pain in Madri’s voice.

Carefully, she placed a hand upon her shoulder.

"The stars may warn. But they do not force."

Madri slowly looked toward her.

"...."

Ambika continued calmly, though even she still carried lingering unease from the prophecy.

"A child is shaped by guidance. By love. By the path shown to him."

Ambalika nodded beside her.

-Nod!

"If the omens speak of danger ...then we must ensure Suryodana never walks toward adharma1."

The words settled heavily within the chamber.

Because all three women understood now—The burden surrounding the child would not merely be political.

It would be moral.

Every lesson. Every influence.

Every friendship. Every ambition.

All of it could someday shape whether the prophecy strengthened...

Or weakened.

Meanwhile nearby, Dhritarashtra remained standing silently in the shadows of the chamber.

"...."

Though he said nothing—He listened to every word.

And somewhere deep inside him, conflicting emotions continued clashing violently.

Love for his son.

Anger toward the prophecy.

Fear for the future.

What if it really happened...

And wounded pride from fate itself daring to stain the birth of his heir.

Meanwhile little Suryodana simply slept peacefully in his mother’s arms, untouched by the storm of expectations already gathering around his life.

Outside, dawn slowly approached Hastinapur.

But within the royal chamber—The night still lingered heavily over the future of the Kuru lineage.

The heavy atmosphere inside the royal chamber continued lingering as little Suryodana slept peacefully in Madri’s arms.

"...."

The earlier prophecy still weighed heavily upon everyone present.

It was then that Ambika suddenly spoke again after a long silence.

"We should take the child to Trinetra Tandaveshwara Temple."

The words immediately drew confused looks from both Madri and Dhritarashtra.

"...."

"...."

"Trinetra... what temple?"

Dhritarashtra asked with a frown on his face.

-Frown!

Madri too looked confused.

Because neither of them had heard that name before.

Seeing their reactions, Ambika and Ambalika exchanged brief glances.

Only now did they fully realize—In all the tension surrounding the birth...

They had not yet shared the news from Trivenivrata.

Not the Maha Shivaratri. Not the Tandava. Not the divine descent.

Nothing.

The moment they had arrived at Hastinapur, the birth preparations had consumed everything immediately.

Ambalika slowly exhaled with a smile.

-Sigh!

"You both have not heard what happened there yet..."

Dhritarashtra’s expression shifted slightly.

"What happened?"

The two Rajmatas looked at one another once more before Ambika began speaking slowly.

"...."

"...."

"...."

And as she spoke—The chamber gradually fell silent again.

She told them about the night of Maha Shivaratri.

About the preparations within Trivenivrata.

About how Devara announced he would perform Tandava before the great Shiva Lingam.

Then came the part that made Madri and Dhritarashtra stare in stunned disbelief.

The storm. The chanting.

The Shiva Tandava Stotram. The divine trance tandava.

And finally—The descent of Shiva and Parvati themselves.

As both heard what had happened were left stunned.

Madri’s eyes widened slowly.

Dhritarashtra’s face froze completely.

Ambalika quietly continued.

"The gods themselves danced alongside him."

"And before leaving... They blessed the temple. They named it Trinetra Tandaveshwara Temple."

She then explained the divine blessings bestowed upon the temple.

Peace for troubled hearts.

Harmony for families. Blessings for marriages.

Sacred calm beneath Shiva and Parvati’s grace.

The chamber remained utterly silent afterward.

Because even Dhritarashtra, despite his pride and skepticism at times, understood the weight of such a thing.

Gods personally descending.

Blessing a temple. Naming it.

That was not rumor-level divinity anymore.

That was history.

Madri meanwhile looked down slowly at sleeping Suryodana.

"...."

Then back toward Ambika.

"You think ...taking him there may help?"

Ambika nodded gently.

-Nod!

"If any place can soothe the darkness surrounding his birth ...it would be there."

Even Ambalika quietly agreed.

"At the very least, the child would receive blessings beneath the temple personally touched by Mahadev and Goddess Parvati."

Dhritarashtra remained silent for long moments.

"...."

"...."

"...."

His mind clearly conflicted.

Pride resisted seeking help.

But fatherhood feared the prophecy more.

And somewhere deep inside—A tiny spark of hope appeared.

Because if the heavens themselves had descended at Trivenivrata...

Then perhaps—Just perhaps—The future of Suryodana was not yet beyond salvation.

After 25 Days...

The days following Suryodana’s birth passed beneath a strange mixture of celebration and unease within Hastinapur.

The terrifying prophecy was never spoken publicly outside the innermost royal circles.

Yet the atmosphere around the guarded cavern remained tense.

Priests continued rituals daily.

Astrologers repeatedly observed the skies.

Protective mantras echoed through the underground chambers without pause.

And still—The remaining pots continued trembling.

Waiting.

Then, twenty-five days after Suryodana’s birth—The next vessel cracked.

-CRRRRK.

Soon another followed.

Then another. And another. In a period of intreval.

The cavern chamber erupted into controlled chaos.

Servants hurried carefully between the vessels.

Midwives. Priests. Royal attendants.

Everyone moved continuously beneath flickering torchlight while sacred chants echoed through the underground halls.

As their attention was needed at the several places.

One by one—The pots opened.

And one by one—The children entered the world.

Where they will be living their life to the fullest.

Some cried loudly the moment they emerged.

Some remained strangely calm.

Some clenched their tiny fists immediately.

Others simply blinked beneath the torchlight as though confused by existence itself.

The process lasted nearly two full days.

No one within the palace slept properly.

The royal chambers became filled constantly with infant cries echoing through the corridors.

And when the final vessel finally opened—The truth stunned everyone present.

Which send a shocked reaction to everyone who saw it.

There were:

Ninety-nine additional sons.

And one daughter.

A total of one hundred boys and one girl born to Dhritarashtra and Madri.

The sight alone overwhelmed the palace attendants.

Rows of infants carefully wrapped in cloth.

Royal nurses moving constantly between them.

Priests chanting blessings endlessly.

"...."

"...."

"...."

The cavern that once felt ominous now looked almost surreal.

A miracle.

Or perhaps something far stranger.

And also filled with life of so many infants.

Meanwhile Madri looked utterly exhausted yet emotional beyond words.

At one point tears flowed openly from her eyes simply from seeing all the children together.

Because despite the fear surrounding Suryodana’s prophecy—The heavens had still blessed them with an enormous lineage.

A dynasty. A generation which no kingdom can easily have.

This was a manifestation of a boon which would put other kingdom in awe and jealous.

Even Ambika and Ambalika looked deeply moved witnessing the scale of it.

"...."

"...."

"...."

The lone daughter especially received immediate affection from the royal women.

A precious jewel amidst a sea of princes.

Meanwhile outside the cavern, news slowly spread across Hastinapur.

The Crown Prince now had one hundred sons and a daughter.

The city erupted into celebration instantly hearing the news.

Their kingdom has been blessed with such a wonder.

Drums echoed through the streets.

Temples performed rituals in the well being of their princes and princess.

The public distributed sweets.

Many viewed it as overwhelming prosperity for the Kuru lineage.

A sign of divine abundance.

Yet—Within the deeper royal chambers—

The memory of the astrologers’ warning still lingered quietly.

Because one hundred sons did not erase prophecy.

Sometimes—It only magnified the scale of what fate intended.

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(Author note:)

I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.

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Don’t forget to review guys...

Guys I have a new fic which named: Karuppan: King of Openings.