The ceremony at Indraprastha had ended in brilliance, but the ride back to Mathura carried a deeper weight. Agasthya rode in silence, his gaze fixed on the horizon, Vaidehi at his side. Krishna led the way, and behind them, the Pandavas traveled together for the first time with Karna truly as one of them.
But the truth had not fully landed.
It arrived when they entered the courtyard of Mathura, where the wind shifted.
A sound like thunder, but not of the sky.
A voice, ancient and eternal, echoed through the heavens and the very bones of the world:
> "Behold Agasthya, the firstborn of silence, the wielder of light before time. Among mortals, there is none who rivals him. Among gods, only two remain beyond his reach."
The world froze.
In cities across Bharat, kings and sages stopped mid-breath.
The declaration passed not through mouths, but minds. Every soul heard it.
Krishna closed his eyes. "It has begun."
Balarama exhaled deeply. "So the veil is lifted."
Karna turned to Agasthya. "What did you do to be spoken of like this?"
Agasthya met his gaze. "I remembered."
The Pandavas stood silent. Yudhishthira stepped forward.
"You carry more than the world. You carry our fates."
Agasthya looked at him, his voice steady. "Then let me carry it with you. Not above you."
Arjuna smiled faintly. "You're still our brother. Just... with a longer memory."
Bhima laughed. "Well, if you're the strongest man alive, you're cooking tonight."
Even Sahadeva grinned. "Only if you don't blow the stove off the mountain."
Laughter softened the weight.
That night, the city burned with light, not flame.
And under the starlit balcony, Vaidehi stepped close to him.
"You're feared now. Worshipped, even."
"And you?" Agasthya asked.
She smiled. "I'm not afraid. I'm in love."
He turned.
She took a breath.
"Agasthya. Will you marry me?"
He blinked.
Then smiled.
"Yes."
And somewhere across the sky, the stars began to move.