Dwarka Arc
The world was deep into Sama Yug 4—the age when good and evil were said to stand in perfect balance.
Before this, Dwapar Yug had stretched across nearly one lakh years; its ending was because of a great cosmic change.
Sama Yug itself moved differently from ordinary time.
It was marked not just by years, but by Vatsaras—minor cosmic changes that reshaped the flow of destiny.
Eighty-five such Vatsaras had already passed.
If the count ever reached a hundred, the world would enter Sama Yug 5.
And now, the world stood in:
Sama Yug 4 — Vatsara 85 — Year 98.
For ninety-eight long years,
nothing significant had occurred—
no great war,
no appearance of an avatar,
no great boons,
no miracle powerful enough to bend the heavens.
A silence that long was unusual.
It hinted at only one thing:
The world was holding its breath for the next great change.
A Hamsa bird—
one that could soar sky-high in the air and swim effortlessly through water—was flying near the ocean,
Maybe trying to land or maybe searching for prey beneath the waves.
It spotted something and pecked at it.
That was a mistake.
Probably the last mistake of its life.
The moment it touched the surface, something caught it from below. In an instant, the crushing pressure swallowed it completely.
The water here was violent—violent was actually a small word for it.
Even creatures built to survive underwater wouldn't last a single second in this place. The water itself was deadly.
Whirlpools stretched as far as the eye could see.
The depth looked so immense that even the tallest mountain could disappear into it.
The place was completely silent, except for the roaring of the water.
And yet, in this impossible chaos…a figure walked calmly.
He had long brown hair tied into a braid, and his eyes were the same shade of brown.
On his forehead was a tattoo of a Dhanush, flickering with a faint golden light—something reminiscent of the Gandiva.
A large scar on his left hand was clearly visible.
And his face… a handsome young face that would definitely attract a lot of attention.
His feet glowed golden, indicating the use of Shakti.
But using Shakti here was definitely not an easy task.
The water was so violent that it required extremely precise changes of release every second.
Yet he seemed completely unbothered.
A task that should be extremely difficult looked like child's play for him.
Every step he took created a burst of bubbles beneath.
He moved slowly, with a calm expression, as if he was in no hurry to reach his destination.
His presence alone was extraordinary—walking unbothered on such water proved he was not just a nobody.
If Arjun saw him, he would recognize him instantly.
He was the Gandiv wielder they had seen in the Yaksha mountain.
He sighed when he finally saw land and murmured,
"I should've come using a boat…"
He had gotten lost, and after wandering for a long time, he finally reached here.
"It wasn't that far, but really troublesome to reach.
The whirlpools were definitely dangerous," he said to himself.
The land in front of him was Dwarka.
The huge whirlpools and insane depth were proof he had indeed reached Dwarka—not some random island.
He stepped onto the shore and inhaled deeply.
He smiled.
"Really… people weren't lying about the fragrance of Dwarka."
The smell could be called sweet, but it wasn't exactly sweet.
He felt refreshed, as if all his journey's tiredness had faded a little.
But when he looked around, his smile vanished.
A forest stretched as far as he could see.
The forest was very dense, and the noise of animals could be clearly heard.
Birds flying overhead.
He clearly hated the idea of trekking through that forest.
He walked along the shore first, hoping to find another path
After a few minutes, he saw a big canal.
Water was flowing from the ocean into the canal—not flowing, but being sucked in.
The flow was extremely fast.
He wondered about that fast sucking of water.
Bending down, he scooped some water into his hand, and while drinking it, he remembered hearing that water can taste different from place to place.
"Uhh… the taste is definitely sweet," he said.
After a few minutes, he continued walking and found another canal sucking in water at high speed.
His eyes glittered.
He finally understood.
"If they only wanted water, sucking it this fast would be useless.
They must take the water from here with extraordinary speed and release it elsewhere.
Because of the huge depth around here, the natural whirlpools become even more dangerous.
And transportation through here becomes impossible."
Despite being a country open to all, Dwarka had taken a lot of precautions.
Finding nothing along the shore and seeing the forest again made him sigh in dissatisfaction.
He clearly didn't want to walk.
Half-heartedly, he started walking toward the forest.
After a few steps he muttered,
"I'm not walking the whole way."
He raised his hand in the air, pulling an invisible arrow.
As he pulled, an arrow and a Dhanush appeared in golden light.
It looked like a normal Shakti-made bow, but the golden color was different.
If someone used their own Shakti to create something, it would be of green color—not golden.
When the bow finally appeared, he began chanting a mantra.
He released the arrow.
It flew high toward the forest as if it would cross the whole thing.
The Dhanush disappeared from his hands.
He walked in a certain direction—he had sensed someone's presence.
There were a lot of tree shadows because the sun was setting.
All the trees cast long shapes across the ground.
But something about the shadows felt wrong.
He understood where the gaze was coming from.
He walked past them.
Nothing happened.
He walked up to a small monkey, picked it up, and thought:
"If they don't want to appear in front of me, fine.
I don't know them and I won't waste time fighting someone who can't even hide properly."
He placed the monkey back down because he sensed that his arrow had hit its target.
He formed a mudra, spoke a mantra—and vanished.
He reappeared at the location of the arrow as they swapped places.
He fell onto a large branch.
He looked behind—
The forest was extremely long.
Looking forward—
The forest still wasn't over.
"I should have used more force…"
He started walking again, and after a few minutes, he crossed the forest.
He felt extremely relaxed after realizing he didn't need to deal with anyone.
It was almost night now.
The moon wasn't giving much light, so it was a little dark.
The sky was covered in thick clouds.
The weather was perfect—not cold.
He saw a house with light coming from inside.
The land was plain, with large fields used for farming.
He walked toward the house.
A thought hit him:
"The mantra I used to shorten distance… really useful. Definitely a Pancha Pada one."
He didn't know the direction, and since it was night, he didn't want to wander around alone.
Moving without a boat had already been one big mistake.
The backyard came into view.
He saw many children doing different tasks.
The sound of trees being chopped echoed through the area.
Some children chopped wood, some carried the pieces.
Younger kids watched them work.
The sounds of the little ones were also clear—as if they were cheering on the older children.
Going to the front, he realized—it was a Gurukul.
A big tree stood with a platform around it.
Behind it was a large building supported by wooden pillars and bamboo, with a slanting roof.
Lost in thought, he didn't notice the child approach until a small kid tugged at his thigh and asked,
"Are you Arjun—the archer?"
He blinked.
How did I not sense him? He thought
He politely refused.
"No."
He continued,
"Can you call your acharya or anyone older?"
The kid looked sad when he said he wasn't Arjun, but he didn't show disrespect.
"It's okay.
"You came inside—you can talk to them.
But our acharya is ill right now.
We currently have a new acharya,"
the kid said, his voice softening when he spoke about the old acharya.
They both walked inside the Gurukul fences.
To keep the conversation going, he asked:
"Who taught you the mantra you used just now?"
He had realized the kid's mantra was strong enough to bypass his senses—even though he was off guard.
It must be at the level of a Pancha Pada mantra, which genuinely surprised him.
The kid replied gently:
"Our acharya became seriously ill six months ago.
Someone new appeared, started treating him, and also began teaching us.
She taught us the mantra," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice for the new acharya.
He was noticing every change in tone made by the kid.
They reached a small room.
The kid knocked.
"Acharya, someone is here to talk to you."
A female voice from inside answered,
"Okay, send them in."
The kid signaled him to enter.
He stepped in. There was dim light in the room.
He saw a young woman sitting in front of a table where the light was placed.
But his eyes first scanned the books around her. The collection of books here was huge.
A noise of something being dropped made him shift his focus.
Then he saw the terrified expression on her face.
He didn't understand why someone would be scared of him—he was confident he looked good.
He stepped forward, but a complaint-like voice came out, slow and shaky, the kind that comes from someone terrified:
"Stop."
He became more confused and stopped.
When the light fell clearly on her face, it became obvious that she was Subha—though he, himself did not yet realize who she was.