Kunti stood in a bamboo grove, her boots planted firm on the packed earth, the hilltop clearing where Yudhishthira was born now a memory months behind them. Her crimson sari was tied tight around her waist, the hem brushing her ankles, still streaked with dirt from their wandering life. The bamboo swayed around her, green stalks clacking faintly in the breeze, and she brushed a strand of dark hair from her face, her expression set as she prepared to chant again. The air felt heavy, charged with something restless, and she squared her shoulders, her hands steady despite the flutter in her chest.
Pandu crouched by a fire pit a few steps away, feeding sticks to the flames with quick, jerky movements. His patched tunic stretched tight across his shoulders, the fabric damp with sweat from a morning spent dragging logs through the undergrowth. His gray eyes flicked to Yudhishthira, who toddled nearby, stacking pebbles into a wobbly tower with uncanny focus for a boy not yet two. Pandu grinned, a flash of teeth in the firelight, and tossed another stick into the pit, the flames spitting sparks as they caught. Madri sat on a log across from him, nursing a scraped knee from gathering wood earlier, her green sari faded and frayed at the edges. She pressed a damp leaf to the cut, her gaze distant as she watched Kunti, her fingers restless against the rough bark.
Kunti's voice broke the quiet, low and firm, the mantra rolling out like a river gaining speed. The bamboo clacked louder, the breeze sharpening into a gust, and Pandu straightened, his hands brushing dirt from his tunic as he turned to watch. "Here we go again," he said, his voice rough with excitement, barely loud enough to carry over the wind. "You're doing it, Kunti. I can feel it already."
Madri looked up, her leaf slipping from her knee as she shifted on the log, her voice tight but curious. "Another one? So soon? Yudhishthira's barely walking, and you're calling again?" She leaned forward, her green sari catching on a splinter, and tugged it free with a quick pull, her eyes narrowing as the wind whipped through the grove.
Kunti didn't pause, her chants growing stronger, but she glanced at Madri, her tone steady despite the rising gusts. "Pandu wants more, Madri. And I've got the strength for it. We need this, all of us." Her crimson sari fluttered hard now, the fabric snapping against her legs, and she planted her feet wider, her hands lifting as the sky churned above.
Pandu stood, brushing his hands together, his grin widening as he stepped closer to the fire. "She's right. One's a start, but more's a legacy. Yudhishthira's perfect, look at him." He nodded at the boy, who balanced another pebble with careful precision, his small brow furrowed. "But we can't stop there. Come on, Kunti, let's see what you've got this time."
The sky answered before she finished, dark clouds spiraling fast, a fierce wind howling through the grove like a living thing. The bamboo bent, creaking under the strain, and a voice boomed from above, deep and wild, like a gale tearing through a canyon. "You summon me, woman of resolve," it roared, and Pandu's grin faltered, his gray eyes widening as he gripped the edge of the fire pit. "I am Vayu, lord of the winds, bearer of strength. I grant you a son, one whose might shall rival storms." Lightning split the air, a jagged bolt that cracked a nearby oak in two, the wood splintering with a deafening snap, and the ground shook, a low rumble that sent pebbles scattering from Yudhishthira's tower.
Kunti's chants peaked, her arms outstretched, and Bhima emerged, his roar deafening, a sound that drowned the wind itself. His tiny fist swung as he landed, shattering a rock beside her into dust, and the grove trembled, trees swaying as leaves whirled in frantic spirals. His skin gleamed, dark and fierce, and the heavens thundered approval, a voice rolling out like a storm's heart: "His might shall break mountains, his strength shall know no bounds." The fire flared, spitting sparks high into the air, and the wind howled louder, tugging at everything in its path.
Pandu laughed, a wild, unrestrained sound, and stumbled forward, his boots kicking up dirt as he reached for Bhima. He lifted him high, his arms trembling under the boy's surprising weight, his voice rough with joy. "Look at him! Look at this one! Strong as an ox already!" He turned, holding Bhima up for Madri to see, his grin wide and fierce, his gray eyes blazing in the flickering light. "Kunti, you've outdone yourself. He's a giant!"
Kunti lowered her arms, her breath coming fast, her crimson sari settling around her as the wind began to die. She wiped sweat from her brow, her hand steady now, and smiled, a small, tired curve of her lips. "Vayu's gift," she said, her voice soft but clear, cutting through the fading storm. "Strength for us, Pandu. That's what he'll be." She stepped closer, her fingers brushing Bhima's dark curls, her eyes softening as she looked at him.
Yudhishthira stared, wide-eyed, from his spot by the pebbles, his small hands frozen mid-stack. He clapped them together, a sharp little sound, and giggled, his voice high and bright. "Big!" he said, pointing at Bhima, his tower forgotten as he toddled closer, his small boots scuffing the earth.
Pandu laughed again, lowering Bhima to let Yudhishthira see, his voice warm and proud. "That's right, little one. Big and strong. Your brother, Yudhishthira. Look at him go!" He shifted Bhima in his arms, the baby's roar quieting to a low, rumbling growl, his tiny fist unclenching as he grabbed at Pandu's tunic.
Madri rose from the log, her knee forgotten, the damp leaf falling to the ground as she stepped forward. Her green sari hung loose, faded and worn, and her fingers dug into the bark behind her, leaving faint marks. "He's… impressive," she said, her voice tight, her smile stiff as she nodded at Bhima. "Really, Kunti. Strong, like Pandu said. You've got a knack for this." She crossed her arms, her gaze flickering between the baby and Kunti, her shadow sharp in the firelight.
Kunti turned to her, her hand still resting on Bhima's head, her tone calm but firm. "It's not a knack, Madri. It's what we need. Yudhishthira's justice, and now Bhima's strength. They're ours, for all of us." She straightened, brushing dirt from her sari, her dark eyes steady as she met Madri's look, the wind fading to a soft rustle around them.
Pandu shifted Bhima to one arm, his grin softening as he clapped a hand on Kunti's shoulder. "Ours, aye. And we're not done yet. Two sons, Kunti! Two! Can you believe it? I was nothing yesterday, and now look at us." He rocked Bhima gently, his voice dropping, warm and eager. "You've got three more chances, don't you? We could have a whole army of them."
Madri's arms tightened across her chest, her voice sharp as she cut in, her green sari swaying slightly. "An army? Slow down, Pandu. He's still crying, and you're already counting the next one? Let's get this one settled first." She stepped closer, her tone softening just a little, though her eyes stayed guarded. "He's loud, I'll give him that. Strong and loud."
Kunti glanced at her, her smile fading slightly, her voice steady as she smoothed Bhima's curls. "He'll settle, Madri. He's just new. And Pandu's right—we've got more to come. But not tonight. Let's take him to the stream, wash him down. The fire's too hot here, and that oak's still smoking." She nodded toward the split tree, its jagged edges black against the darkening sky, the air thick with the scent of charred wood.
Pandu nodded, his grin returning as he adjusted Bhima in his arms, the baby's growl turning to a soft grunt. "Good idea. Stream's cooler, and Yudhishthira can play with his pebbles there. Come on, little man, up you get." He bent, scooping Yudhishthira up with his free hand, the boy giggling as he clung to Pandu's shoulder, his small hands patting Bhima's head.
Madri hesitated, her fingers brushing her scraped knee, then followed, her green sari trailing behind her as she spoke, her voice quieter now, almost grudging. "He's heavy, isn't he? You'll need help carrying him down, Pandu. I'll take Yudhishthira if you want." She reached out, her smile still tight, her shadow merging with the bamboo as the fire spat one last spark.
Pandu shook his head, his laugh bright and carefree. "No need, Madri. I've got them both. Strong as Bhima, that's me now!" He started down the path, his steps steady despite the weight, his voice drifting back. "Hurry up, you two. This one's a handful already."
Kunti watched him go, her crimson sari settling around her as the wind died completely, the grove growing still except for the faint crackle of the fire. She pressed a hand to her chest, her breath evening out, her dark eyes tracing the path where the lightning had struck. Bhima's roar still echoed in her mind, wild and fierce, and she felt a surge of strength settle beside the warmth Yudhishthira had brought. Two sons, two gifts, and more to come—she could feel it, a certainty deep in her bones. She started after Pandu, her steps firm, the air charged with Bhima's raw power, the bamboo standing tall again in the fading light.