บท 22: Weapons select Warriors!
Arjun's grin widened as he walked confidently towards the weaponry section, his mind resolute. To unravel my mystery, to prove myself, to be ready for any challenge that comes in my life, I need to get stronger, he thought. His determination was palpable, every step he took echoing with purpose. He joined the group gathered in the weaponry section, where Guru Drona stood watching, a silent observer of the choices his students were making.
With the specializations chosen, Guru Drona addressed the students, "The respective teachers of your subjects will now introduce themselves and guide you to your classrooms and training fields." His voice carried a weight that made every student stand a little straighter, ready to meet their instructors.
The teacher standing in the weaponry section stepped forward, and Arjun gave him a curious glance. The teacher was an extremely thin and frail man with a bald head, save for a small tuft of hair—a shikha—at the back. He looked like a typical Brahmin, knowledgeable and holy, but not at all like someone who would be teaching the art of weaponry. Arjun's surprise must have shown, for the teacher, with a knowing smile, proclaimed, "Shall we proceed, students?"
"Yes!" the group responded loudly, their voices filled with excitement.
Arjun noticed that the crowd included not only his friends, Bheem and Yudhisthir but also Duryodhana, Dushasana, Ashwatthama, and their group of friends, all standing together. Yudhisthir, who had originally planned to major in magical diplomacy and literature, caught Arjun's questioning look and explained, "I changed my decision. I realized that mastering weaponry is just as important."
With that, the teacher led them out of the hall to a large training ground filled with sand. On the walls surrounding the ground, a vast array of weapons was displayed—swords, spears, maces, and bows, each more impressive than the last. The weapons glimmered in the sunlight, their auras almost palpable.
The teacher gestured towards the weapons. "I am Chanakya, and from now on, I will be your instructor in magical weaponry and tactics. I will train you to become the best of warriors, but know this—it will not be easy."
Bheem, ever enthusiastic, couldn't contain his excitement. "Let's go!" he shouted, his voice booming across the ground. The others chuckled, but there was no mistaking the eagerness in their expressions.
Chanakya, ignoring the outburst, continued, "Your first task is to choose a weapon—a weapon that will define your path as a warrior. But remember, the weapon will choose you as much as you choose it. These weapons are not ordinary; they are magical, forged recently or passed down from ancient heroes and warriors. They will only respond to those they deem worthy."
He paused, letting the significance of his words sink in. "The process is simple," Chanakya explained. "One by one, you will approach the wall and extend your hand. The weapons that recognize your worthiness will levitate. The weapon that truly calls to you will come flying into your hand. Now, who wants to go first?"
Bheem, never one to shy away from a challenge, ran towards the wall. "Me!" he declared, his voice full of confidence.
"Go on then," Chanakya said, his tone encouraging. "Raise your hand."
Bheem did as instructed, raising his hand high. Instantly, about half of the weapons on the wall began to levitate. The air around them shimmered with magical energy. Most of the weapons that responded were those suited to strength—a Gada (a mace), spears, and massive swords. But one weapon caught everyone's attention. A massive golden Gada, glowing with an ethereal light, hovered before Bheem.
Chanakya's eyes widened in astonishment. "Bheem, the Gada of Hanuman has levitated itself for the first time in decades. Hanuman was a legend and is an active member of the WMA. He wielded this very Gada, and it only chooses those who possess his strength and heart."
Without a second thought, Bheem roared, "Then let the Gada of Hanuman be mine!" The mighty weapon, as if recognizing its new master, swooshed through the air and landed firmly in Bheem's outstretched hand. The sight was awe-inspiring. Bheem, with his massive build and now wielding the legendary Gada, looked every bit the mighty warrior he aspired to be.
The other students were stunned, their eyes wide with admiration and, for some, envy. Duryodhana, his face twisted in frustration, clenched his fists. He had been eyeing that very weapon, believing it was his for the taking if only he had gone first.
Bheem, however, paid no mind to the envious glares. He returned to his friends, the Gada resting easily on his shoulder as if it weighed nothing.
Slowly, the other students began their turn. One by one, they approached the wall, and one by one, weapons began to choose their masters. Swords, bows, and spears found their new owners. The air was filled with the sounds of magic as each weapon bonded with its wielder.
Finally, it was Dushasana's turn. He stepped forward with a look of determination, raising his hand just as Bheem had done. The weapons responded, though not as many as before. A dark, twisted sword, black as night, also hovered before him. Its blade seemed to absorb light, and a malevolent aura surrounded it.
Chanakya watched closely, a thoughtful expression on his face. "The Sword of Tamasa," he muttered under his breath. "A weapon of great power but also of great danger. It requires a strong will and a dark heart to wield."
Dushasana, seemingly unfazed by the ominous aura, reached out and said come sword of Tamasa and grasped the sword. As his fingers closed around the hilt, the blade pulsed with energy, and Dushasana grinned, satisfied with his choice.
The day continued with more students choosing their weapons, each one forming a bond that would define their future battles. But throughout it all, Arjun remained still, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions.
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