Chapter 35: The Three Chosen Disciples
The mighty gates of Mahishmati swung wide open as Maharishi Rudra returned, walking side by side with the newly relocated Nishad tribe. Their clothes were simple, their belongings humble, but their eyes sparkled with hope. Among them walked a boy whose aura glowed with quiet strength and resolve. Eklavya, the Nishad prince, had already taken a significant step in his journey—he had won the recognition of Rudra himself.
Rudra arranged for the tribe's settlement near the serene banks of the Kshipra River, within the forested outskirts of Mahishmati. Once the families were settled and comfortable, Rudra turned to Eklavya.
"Your journey begins now, dear one. From this point forward, you shall not return home until your training is complete."
Eklavya bowed deeply. "As you command, Gurudev."
With that, Rudra took him towards the heart of the kingdom—the Raj Mahal. As they reached the palace gates, the dwarpal (doorman) bowed and welcomed them warmly. Just then, Rudra's sharp eyes caught sight of a familiar face in the waiting area. Adhirath, the charioteer of Hastinapur, stood with his wife Radha, their son Karna, and a young girl who clung shyly to Radha's side.
Rudra raised an eyebrow and asked the doorman, "Why do they wait here?"
"Yuvraj" the guard replied, "they seek an audience with King Suresh."
Without a word, Rudra proceeded through the palace halls and entered the grand Rajya Sabha (royal court), where nobles, ministers, and family members of the royal lineage had assembled. Conversations halted as all eyes turned to the young Maharishi striding with calm confidence into the hall.
Rudra stood tall in the center and declared in a firm voice, "Hear me, noble lords and ladies. This boy beside me, Eklavya of the Nishad tribe, shall now be known as my disciple."
Gasps rippled through the hall. The declaration struck like thunder. Sumitra, Gandhari, and other women of royal blood looked at Eklavya with envy wrapped in smiles—who wouldn't want their son to be guided by the great Rudransh, the youngest Maharathi of Aryavart?
Just then, a respectful yet curious voice echoed from behind. It was Karna, now allowed entry with his family. He stepped forward, eyes locked onto Rudra, and asked sincerely, "Mahoday, do you not think the caste of this boy will tarnish your reputation?"
The room stiffened. Some nobles whispered, some frowned, and others nodded in agreement.
Rudra simply smiled.
"Boy," he said gently, "when my aradhya—Mahadev—walks among ghosts, cremation grounds, and demons without caring for rules set by men, who am I to follow such boundaries? My reputation isn't built by favoring the nobles. It thrives on uplifting the hearts of the forgotten."
Karna froze.
The words sliced through his insecurities, peeling back the layers of rejection he had carried for so long. He lowered his head and bowed.
"Forgive me, Maharishi. I spoke from the shadow of pain... not logic. I have long wished for a Guru. If there is even a flicker of a chance, I wish to be your disciple. I promise I will never disappoint you."
Rudra turned his head without reply.
The silence was deafening.
Karna's heart sank. Once again, he felt denied. His lips trembled. He turned to leave.
"Stop."
The word came like lightning. He turned around.
"I, Pralayavatar Rudransh Rudra Pratap, accept: Eklavya, the Prince of Nishad... Karna, the Son of Suta... and Princess Ishita of Mahishmati as my Shishyas!"
Time paused.
Karna collapsed to his knees, overwhelmed. Eklavya followed, tears welling in his eyes. But Ishita, the spirited princess who had grown up in the royal court, stood confused.
"What just happened?" she murmured.
Rudra looked at her and asked with a smirk, "What? You don't want to be my disciple?"
"Want? Who wouldn't want this!" she exclaimed, kneeling with excitement.
But Rudra raised his hand. "No. Although you are my disciple now, remember—you are my little sister first. You shall never kneel before me."
Ishita's eyes sparkled with joy. She stood tall and smiled.
Rudra turned to Adhirath.
"Mahoday, you and your family shall remain in Mahishmati. The kingdom will provide a home and financial support. Based on your skills, you deserve to be a sarathi to a great warrior. Unfortunately, all such warriors already have their trusted charioteers. But do not despair. In twelve years, you shall become the sarathi to the greatest warrior this land will know—your son, Karna."
Radha's hand flew to her mouth, tears cascading freely. Adhirath couldn't speak—he just bowed with folded hands, too overwhelmed to respond.
Rudra then announced to all, "From this day forward, I shall leave Mahishmati for twelve years with my three disciples. Do not seek us. We shall return when they are ready to shake the heavens."
The hall stood in stunned silence.
Then applause.
Slow at first, then resounding like drums of destiny. People rose from their seats, bowing to Rudra and the three chosen ones who would carry his legacy into the future.
As Rudra turned to leave, Eklavya by his right, Karna to the left, and Ishita a step behind, Aryavart itself seemed to hold its breath—for legends were being born not of bloodlines, but of karma and fire.
The era of change had begun.