Sunrise painted a serene grove near Hastinapura with soft gold, its gentle rays threading through tall trees draped in vines. A faint breeze stirred the leaves, carrying the sweet scent of blossoms and damp earth, while a shallow stream gurgled nearby, its waters glinting in the dawn. Red-painted wooden targets stood in a neat row at the grove's heart, their edges sharp against the morning light, waiting silent and still. The air hummed with a sacred calm, faint chants rising like whispers, ready to mark a moment that would echo through the ages.
Drona stood at the grove's center, his lean frame bathed in the sunrise glow, his tattered white robes shimmering faintly with the dawn. His gray hair was tied back, and his dark eyes gleamed with a deep, reverent intensity as he faced the Kuru princes. In one hand, he held his staff, its tip resting on the moss; the other was raised, palm open, as if summoning the stillness itself. The princes gathered around him, their tunics fresh from the morning's wash, their breaths soft in the cool air as they watched him, sensing something grand in the quiet.
Bhima rocked on his heels, his massive frame rustling the grass, his broad grin flashing wide as he scratched his head. "Early start today, guru?" he said, his voice booming through the stillness, startling a bird into flight. "This feels big! We smashing something special?"
Drona turned to him, his expression calm but unyielding, his voice weaving through the grove with steady force. "Not smashing, Bhima," he said, his tone deep and firm, hushing the air for a moment. "Mastery. Today's no ordinary test. I've called you here for a gift. One of you will rise."
Bhima's grin faltered, then stretched wider as he laughed, the sound bouncing off the trees. "A gift?" he said, his tone bright and eager, flexing his arms. "I like gifts! Is it a big club? I'll swing it hard, guru!"
"No club," Drona replied, his voice dry and patient, lowering his hand. "Something greater. Wait and see."
Arjuna stepped closer, his lean form quiet and still, his sandals silent on the moss as he tilted his head. His tunic caught the dawn's light, his breath steady, and his dark eyes locked on Drona with a calm curiosity. "A gift, guru?" he said, his voice soft but clear, warm with wonder. "What kind?"
Drona's gaze settled on him, a flicker of warmth softening his stern face as he nodded. "A divine mantra," he said, his tone firm yet reverent, the words hanging heavy in the air. "One I've held for years, earned through penance. It sharpens precision beyond mortal limits. I give it to you, Arjuna."
A hush fell over the grove, the stream's gurgle the only sound as the princes stared. Arjuna's eyes widened, his breath catching for a heartbeat, then he bowed his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "Me?" he said, his tone soft and humbled, pressing his hands together. "Guru, that's too much. Why me?"
"Because you've earned it," Drona said, his pride clear, stepping forward to rest a hand on Arjuna's shoulder. "Your focus, your will. This mantra's yours. Five targets. Use it."
Duryodhana strode forward, his chin high, his dark hair glinting in the light as he gripped his bow tight. "Him?" he said, his voice low and edged with a scowl, his brow furrowing deep. "Why him alone? I've worked as hard. This isn't fair, guru."
Drona turned to him, his tone stern and sharp, meeting Duryodhana's glare without flinching. "Fair's not the measure," he said, his voice steady and unyielding. "Merit is. Arjuna's ready. Watch and learn."
The princes spread out, their footsteps soft on the moss, the grove tingling with the weight of the moment as they took their places. Nakula nudged Sahadeva, his voice quick and low as he glanced at Arjuna. "A mantra?" he said, his tone light but awed, stretching his arms. "That's big. He's already good!"
"Better now," Sahadeva replied, his tone swift and bright, his eyes wide. "Let's see it!"
Bhima lumbered to the side, his grin returning as he crossed his arms. "Magic words, huh?" he said, his voice loud and cheerful, echoing through the trees. "I'd rather have a club, but this'll be fun to watch!"
Drona raised his hand again, his voice ringing clear as he looked to Arjuna. "Begin," he said, his tone warm and commanding, stepping back. "Speak the mantra. Feel it."
Arjuna lifted his bow, his fingers steady as he closed his eyes for a moment, his lips moving silently. The air around him seemed to shimmer, a faint gold threading through his breath as he opened his eyes and drew an arrow. "Here goes," he murmured, his voice soft and reverent, aiming at the first disc. He fired, the arrow streaking through the grove with a flawless arc, striking the target dead center with a sharp thud. He smiled faintly, nocking another, and fired again, hitting true. "Two," he said, his tone calm and steady, his focus unshaken.
Drona's eyes gleamed, his voice warm with awe as he stepped closer. "Two?" he said, his tone lifting slightly, a rare spark in his calm. "Flawless, Arjuna. That's the mantra. More."
Duryodhana gripped his bow tighter, his scowl deepening as he watched, his voice low and sharp. "Flawless?" he muttered, his tone bitter and clipped, kicking at the moss. "He's got tricks now. Great."
"Tricks?" Nakula said, his voice quick and teasing, glancing over with a grin. "That's skill, Duryodhana. Look at it go!"
"Skill or favor," Duryodhana replied, his smirk faint but dark, his eyes narrowing. "Guru's playing pets."
Arjuna fired three more shots, each arrow blazing a perfect path, pinning the discs with clean thuds that echoed through the grove. "Five," he said, his voice soft and sure, lowering his bow as he turned to Drona with a nod. "It's alive, guru. I felt every one."
Drona stepped forward, his pride clear, his voice warm and deep as he clapped Arjuna's shoulder. "Five?" he said, his tone ringing clear, his eyes shining. "Beyond mortal, Arjuna. That's your ascension. The mantra's yours."
The grove pulsed with the moment, the air thick with the faint hum of the mantra's power—Arjuna's flawless strikes standing alone, a sacred mark of his rise. Bhima let out a loud whoop, his voice booming as he clapped his hands. "That was wild!" he said, his tone bright and thrilled, lumbering over. "Those arrows flew like birds! You're a wizard now, Arjuna!"
"No wizard," Arjuna said, his voice calm and humble, smiling at Bhima through the dawn. "Just focus. The mantra's a guide."
"Guide?" Sahadeva said, his tone swift and awed, stepping up with Nakula. "That's more than guiding! You didn't miss once!"
"Perfect," Nakula added, his voice quick and bright, nodding at his twin. "We've got work to do!"
Duryodhana crossed his arms, his scowl dark, his voice low and sharp as he glared at Arjuna. "Perfect's right," he said, his tone bitter and edged, brushing past. "Guru's golden boy. Enjoy it while it lasts."
Arjuna turned to him, his voice soft and steady, meeting Duryodhana's glare with a calm look. "It's not favor," he said, his tone warm but firm. "It's effort. You've got your own strength."
"Strength?" Duryodhana said, his smirk twisting, his voice sly and cold. "I'll show you strength. This isn't over."
Drona watched him go, his expression stern but thoughtful, his voice low as he spoke to Arjuna. "He's envious," he said, his tone steady and quiet, resting his staff on the ground. "It'll grow. Mind it."
"I will," Arjuna replied, his voice soft and honest, nodding at Drona. "I didn't ask for this, guru. I'll use it right."
"You already are," Drona said, his pride clear, his tone warm and firm. "That's why it's yours."
Bhima clapped Arjuna's back with a thud, his laugh booming as he stretched his arms. "Right or not," he said, his voice loud and teasing, grinning wide. "You're flying now! I'll stick to smashing, but I'm proud of you!"
"Thanks, Bhima," Arjuna said, his voice calm and friendly, smiling back. "Your smash'll hit someday."
"Someday!" Bhima said, chuckling as he lumbered off, his tone bright and unbothered. "I'll smash the sun first!"
Nakula and Sahadeva fell in step, their grins wide as they nudged each other. "He's divine now," Nakula said, his voice quick and light, brushing his hair back. "We're chasing a god!"
"Chasing's fun," Sahadeva replied, his tone swift and bright, mirroring his twin's grin. "We'll catch up!"
The sun climbed higher, the grove glowing with its light, and Drona called them in, his voice ringing clear through the trees, his staff tapping once, twice. "Enough," he said, his tone warm and final, the air settling. "Arjuna's shown the mantra's power. The rest, train on."