Chapter 104: Chapter 102: Dhritarashtra And Other’s Set Towards Trivenivrata...

(A/N):

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As the days passed within Hastinapur, the earlier fear surrounding the astrologers prophecy slowly began fading beneath the overwhelming presence of life filling the royal chambers.

It became difficult to remain trapped in dread when the palace itself had transformed into a storm of crying infants, exhausted nurses, scattered cloth wraps, tiny hands grabbing fingers,

And sleepless royal attendants running endlessly through corridors.

Even the ominous atmosphere lingering after Suryodana’s birth gradually weakened.

By the life which seems to be breathed through the royal palace.

Because now—There were children everywhere.

Who needs attention.

Madri especially became deeply absorbed in caring for the children.

Though exhausted constantly, her face slowly regained warmth and happiness.

Alongside Ambika and Ambalika, she spent her days moving from infant to infant, ensuring each child was properly cared for.

Some babies cried endlessly.

Some slept peacefully.

A few already displayed surprisingly stubborn personalities despite barely entering the world.

The royal women often found themselves laughing helplessly amidst the chaos.

Because managing one hundred sons and a daughter felt less like raising royal heirs...

And more like attempting to control a tiny invading army.

Meanwhile Dhritarashtra personally participated in naming each child.

The process itself lasted long due to the sheer number involved.

And when the time came to name the lone daughter—His expression softened visibly.

"This child,"

He declared warmly with genuine,

"shall be called—Dushala."

The name immediately brought smiles across the chamber.

Even laughter.

Because after endless discussions involving sons, heirs, omens, and lineage—The little princess somehow brought lightness back into the atmosphere naturally.

Madri especially held Dushala close affectionately.

The lone daughter quickly became adored by nearly everyone inside the palace.

Soon afterward, messages and blessings began arriving from allied kingdoms across Bhulok1.

Kings. Queens. Sages.

Merchant guilds.

All sent congratulations to Hastinapur for the miraculous expansion of the Kuru lineage.

Naturally—Among those messages arrived one from Trivenivrata itself.

And unlike many formal royal congratulations—The message from Devara carried unusual warmth.

When the royal messenger read it aloud before the family, the chamber gradually quieted.

Devara’s words were simple—But heartfelt.

He congratulated Dhritarashtra and Madri sincerely for receiving such beautiful gifts from the gods.

Then came the advice that lingered most deeply within the chamber.

"Hold them dear."

"Guide them toward dharma."

"Lead them with a father’s love."

"And when they stray..."

"...correct them with a mother’s anger."

The words drew soft smiles from Ambika and Ambalika immediately.

Even Madri looked visibly touched hearing them.

Because unlike political praise or hollow royal compliments—The message sounded genuine.

Personal.

Almost like guidance from someone who understood how dangerous unrestrained paths could become.

Meanwhile Dhritarashtra remained thoughtful after hearing the letter.

Especially the final part.

Guide them toward dharma.

The words quietly echoed within his mind long after the message ended.

Because somewhere deep inside—Despite all the celebrations surrounding the children—The memory of the prophecy still had not fully left him.

After 10 Days...

Ten days had passed since the birth of the children, and though the palace of Hastinapur remained noisy and restless from the presence of so many infants, the royal household had slowly adapted to the chaos.

The underground chambers no longer felt like a guarded place of tension and prophecy.

Instead, they had begun resembling a world entirely ruled by children.

Soft cries echoed day and night.

Servants walked endlessly carrying warm milk, herbal mixtures, blankets, and sleeping infants from one room to another.

Priests still visited daily to continue blessings over the children, especially over Suryodana, though now the rituals were done more quietly so the atmosphere would not grow heavy again.

Yet despite the warmth slowly returning to the palace, another important event was approaching rapidly.

The coronation of Devara as the official king of Trivenivrata.

Invitations had already spread across the kingdoms of Bhulok.

Kings, nobles, sages, merchants, and allied rulers were preparing to attend the grand ceremony.

And within the royal family of Hastinapur, the matter had become more personal than political.

Especially after Ambika and Ambalika repeatedly reminded Dhritarashtra about the earlier suggestion.

They should take the children to the sacred Trinetra Tandaveshwara Temple.

Most importantly—Suryodana.

The memory of the astrologer’s grim prediction still lingered within Dhritarashtra’s mind no matter how much joy the children brought into his life.

He never spoke openly about it anymore, but every time he looked at his firstborn son, the stormy night of his birth returned to his thoughts.

And because of that, he had finally made his decision.

If the temple truly carried the blessings of Shiva and Parvati themselves, then he would take his children there personally.

Especially Suryodana.

If there existed even the smallest possibility that divine blessings could soften the darkness surrounding his son’s fate, then he would not ignore it.

Which meant—Preparations for travel had begun.

And not ordinary travel.

Royal movement involving one hundred sons, one daughter, queens, royal mothers, attendants, nurses, priests, physicians, guards, and supply caravans was nothing short of a moving city.

The palace had become even busier than before.

Military commanders were summoned repeatedly to discuss security arrangements.

Routes toward Trivenivrata were reviewed carefully.

Temporary campsites were selected in advance.

Additional soldiers were assigned to escort duty.

Scouts were sent ahead on every major road to ensure safety.

Even the royal physicians had begun preparing travel medicines specifically for infants.

Dhritarashtra had made one thing absolutely clear:

There would be no negligence.

He was travelling with his children.

Every possible threat had to be accounted for.

Because whether prophecy or not—The heirs of the Kuru lineage could never be left vulnerable.

That afternoon, after finishing another lengthy discussion with commanders and palace officials, Dhritarashtra finally walked toward the inner chambers where the royal women were overseeing the children.

The moment he entered, the scene before him softened his expression immediately.

Madri sat surrounded by several infants while trying to calm two crying children at once.

Nearby, Ambika held Dushala gently while Ambalika instructed servants arranging herbal oils and warm cloth.

One infant had somehow managed to crawl halfway out of his bedding despite barely learning movement, causing a servant nearby to panic while Ambika laughed openly at the sight.

"-Hahaha!!!"

For a brief moment, Dhritarashtra simply stood there silently watching them.

"...."

Watching his family.

Watching the future of his lineage filling the chamber with life.

Then finally he spoke.

"We will be travelling to Trivenivrata."

The room gradually quieted.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Madri looked up first in surprise.

Dhritarashtra slowly continued.

"The preparations have already begun."

"We will attend Devara’s coronation."

Then after a brief pause, his voice lowered slightly.

"And we will take the children to the temple."

No one needed him to explain which temple.

Because everyone present understood immediately.

The Trinetra Tandaveshwara Temple.

The place touched personally by Mahadev and Parvati.

Madri instinctively looked toward sleeping Suryodana beside her.

And for the first time in many days—A small spark of hope returned quietly to her eyes.

The departure from Hastinapur the next morning became a sight the kingdom would remember for years.

Before dawn itself, the palace grounds were already overflowing with movement.

Rows of chariots stood prepared across the massive courtyards.

Royal banners carrying the sigil of the Kuru lineage fluttered beneath the cool morning winds while armored soldiers moved in disciplined formation securing every route and formation point.

Horses neighed restlessly.

Elephants carrying supplies and protective structures for the infants stood ready under the supervision of mahouts and physicians.

This was no ordinary royal journey.

It was the movement of an entire generation of the Kuru lineage.

At the center of the preparations stood Dhritarashtra personally overseeing the final arrangements.

Though he trusted his commanders completely, the presence of his children had made him far more cautious than usual.

Security formations had been arranged in multiple layers.

Scouts had already been dispatched ahead.

Supply caravans were separated strategically so no single attack or accident could cripple the procession.

Specially cushioned royal carriages had been prepared for the infants to travel safely without disturbance from rough roads.

Even the physicians accompanying the convoy nearly doubled after Ambika insisted that with over a hundred infants traveling together, disaster could emerge from something as simple as fever or exhaustion.

Meanwhile inside the royal chambers, the true chaos unfolded.

One hundred princes and a princess did not travel quietly.

Some infants cried loudly the moment servants tried wrapping them for travel.

Some refused feeding.

A few had somehow managed to wake the others repeatedly until the entire chamber sounded like a battlefield fought entirely through crying.

Madri looked simultaneously exhausted and determined while moving between the children alongside Ambika and Ambalika.

"...."

"...."

"...."

At one point Ambalika jokingly muttered that managing the children required more coordination than organizing an army division.

Even the usually composed Ambika laughed hearing that.

Little Dushala remained unusually calm compared to many of her brothers, peacefully sleeping while chaos unfolded around her.

In contrast, Suryodana remained strangely observant whenever awake, his eyes quietly following movements around him in a manner that sometimes unsettled the attendants.

Finally, as the sun slowly rose above Hastinapur’s skyline, the great procession departed.

The gates of the capital opened wide while drums echoed across the city announcing the movement of the royal family.

Citizens lined the streets respectfully watching the enormous convoy move forward.

Many bowed toward the infants carrying the future of the Kuru lineage.

Others whispered excitedly among themselves about the destination.

Trivenivrata.

The kingdom whose stories now spread through every major trade road and royal court.

The kingdom ruled by the young man many believed carried divine favor.

The kingdom where gods themselves descended during Maha Shivaratri.

And now—The kingdom where Devara’s coronation would soon take place.

But Hastinapur was not the only allied kingdom preparing to attend.

Gandhara Kingdom...

Far away in Gandhara,

King Subala had also finally begun his journey alongside his sons, nobles, and royal household.

For months, stories from Trivenivrata had reached Gandhara continuously.

Stories about Devara.

The prosperity of the new kingdom.

The miraculous market growth.

The divine temple.

The Tandava witnessed by gods and sages alike.

And of course—Their daughter Gandhari now reigning there as queen.

Even Prince Shakuni had remained there for long enough that the royal family occasionally joked he had forgotten Gandhara entirely.

But now the proper time had finally arrived.

Their son-in-law was about to be crowned king officially before the eyes of Bhulok itself.

And no matter how much rumor and legend surrounded Devara already—This coronation would transform those stories into political reality.

As the separate royal processions moved steadily toward Trivenivrata from different directions, the roads of Bhulok1 themselves seemed to pulse with anticipation.

Because the coronation approaching was no longer merely a royal ceremony.

It was becoming an event capable of reshaping the balance of the kingdoms themselves.

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(Author note:)

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

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