Embers glowed in a pit within a shadowed nook by the palace forge, their faint red light pulsing against the blackened stone walls as dusk settled thick and heavy. Hammers clanged faintly from the forge beyond, their rhythm a dull thud echoing through the narrow space, and the air hung dense with soot, its sharp tang stinging the nose. A rack of swords stood nearby, their blades gleaming cold and still, their edges catching the ember glow in thin, silver lines. The nook tucked tight against the forge's outer wall, its shadows pooling deep where the light couldn't reach, and the heat lingered, a warm breath curling from the pit.
Shakuni slipped into the nook, his cane scraping the stone with a slow, deliberate scratch, his black robes swishing as he moved. His narrow eyes glinted under his hood, and his crooked grin flashed briefly as he paused, his bony hand resting on the cane's knob. Duryodhana stood near the ember pit, his dark tunic smudged with ash from brushing too close, his small boots scuffing the floor as he kicked at a stray coal. His dark curls clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, and his jaw clenched tight, his breath huffing out in short bursts. Duhshasana lounged against the sword rack, his fair hair wild and tangled, his small tunic creased as he fiddled with a blade's hilt, his restless fingers tapping.
Shakuni's voice murmured, sly and soft as he stepped closer, his cane tapping once. "A fang for a prince, nephew. Something sharp for your hand." He pulled a short blade from his robes, its edge honed thin, its leather-wrapped hilt dark against the steel. He offered it, his bony fingers steady, and his crooked grin widened, his whisper coiling through the soot-thick air.
Duryodhana's eyes flicked to the blade, his voice low and fierce as he reached out, his small hands curling around the hilt. "Sharp, eh? Light too. Deadly." He lifted it, testing its balance with a slow swing, the steel whistling faintly, and his dark tunic shifted, his grip tightening as he nodded, his purpose stirring.
Duhshasana's fingers stopped tapping, his voice shrill and quick as he leaned forward, his fair hair bouncing. "Deadly! Stick 'em with it, brother! Right through!" He clapped his hands, his small tunic flapping, and his giggle rose, wild and high, his excitement a spark in the dim nook.
Shakuni's cane scraped again, his voice soft and oily as he tilted his head, his black robes settling. "Through, yes. Done deep, nephew. Cut 'em out, root and all." He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound, and his narrow eyes glinted, his satisfaction simmering beneath the words.
Duryodhana's swing paused, his voice fierce and steady as he turned the blade, its edge catching the ember glow. "Cut 'em out? They're done, uncle. Bhima first, then the rest." He swung it again, his small frame buzzing, and his dark curls bounced, his resolve hardening, a cold edge in his glare.
Duhshasana jumped up, his voice shrill and wild as he punched the air, his fair hands trembling. "Bhima! Stick that oaf good! He'll squeal louder than those boars!" He hopped closer, his small tunic tearing at the seam, and his giggle rolled out, his loyalty a flame beside Duryodhana.
Shakuni's chuckle faded, his voice sly and low as he leaned in, his cane steady. "Squeal, maybe. But quiet after. That strength of his, nephew? Snuff it. This'll do it." He tapped the blade with a finger, his crooked grin flashing, and his black robes brushed the stone, his whisper a thread of venom.
Duryodhana's hands tightened, his voice low and bitter as he sheathed the blade at his belt, its hilt snug against his dark tunic. "Snuff it? I'll carve it out. Him and his brothers. They've had their fun." He patted the sheath, his small fingers lingering, and his dark eyes glinted, his intent turning lethal, a killer's edge taking shape.
Duhshasana's voice rose, quick and fierce as he clapped again, his fair hair falling into his eyes. "Carve 'em! All of 'em! Start tomorrow, brother! Show 'em!" He kicked at the sword rack, a blade wobbling, and his giggle sharpened, his wildness a gust in the nook.
Shakuni's cane tapped slower, his voice soft and sly as he stepped back, his narrow eyes narrowing. "Tomorrow? Soon, yes. Pick your moment, nephew. They're strong, but this bites deeper." He nodded, his crooked grin steady, and his black robes swished, his satisfaction a quiet hum in the shadows.
Duryodhana's breath huffed out, his voice fierce and low as he turned to the ember pit, his small frame tense. "Deeper? Good. Bhima's laughing now. Not for long." He kicked a coal into the pit, sparks flaring, and his dark tunic smudged further, his resolve a cold steel in his chest.
Duhshasana's voice followed, shrill and bright as he hopped beside him, his fair hands waving. "Not long! Stick him quick! Arjuna too, eh? Both down!" He punched the air again, his small tunic flapping, and his giggle echoed, his eagerness a wild dance around Duryodhana.
Shakuni's voice dropped, oily and calm as he rested his cane, his black robes still. "Both, yes. But one at a time, nephew. Bhima's the wall. Break him, the rest fall." He tilted his head, his narrow eyes glinting, and his crooked grin lingered, his cunning a shadow weaving their pact.
Duryodhana's hand patted the blade again, his voice low and steady as he nodded, his dark curls swaying. "Break him? I'll shatter him. Then Yudhishthira's next. They're mine." He stepped toward the nook's mouth, his small boots scuffing, and his dark eyes burned, his purpose a sharpened edge gleaming in the dusk.
Duhshasana darted after him, his voice shrill and fierce as he clapped his hands, his fair hair bouncing. "Yours! Smash 'em all, brother! Start with that big oaf!" He kicked another coal, his small tunic ripping further, and his giggle rose, his wildness a tail to Duryodhana's storm.
Shakuni's cane tapped once, his voice sly and soft as he followed, his black robes trailing. "Start, yes. The forge's spark lights your path, nephew. Wield it well." He chuckled again, his narrow eyes steady, and his crooked grin flashed, his satisfaction a simmer in the soot-thick air.
The nook hummed with their pact, the ember pit glowing fainter as Duryodhana strode out, his dark tunic a blur in the dusk. His voice came fierce and low, his small frame buzzing with intent. "Well? Better than well. They'll bleed for it." He patted the blade once more, his dark curls catching the last light, and his resolve hardened, a killer's edge forged in the shadows.
Duhshasana's shout trailed, wild and high as he skipped beside him, his fair hands waving. "Bleed! Ha! Stick 'em good, brother! Soon!" His small tunic flapped, his giggle fading into the forge's clang, and his loyalty clung, a spark in Duryodhana's wake.
Shakuni lingered, his voice soft and sly as he watched them go, his cane steady. "Soon, yes. The Pandavas laugh now. Not much longer." He turned to the pit, his black robes settling, and his crooked grin held, the nook a crucible for their next strike, its glow a spark to Duryodhana's darkening path.