**18 years before the main events of the story**
On the third day of the Lunar month of Shraavana, Queen Rukmini gave birth to a miracle child. After years of rituals and prayers, King Shaktidev's bloodline was blessed with an heir, one with a glow that hinted at the illustrious life to come. This highly anticipated tiding spread like wildfire through the kingdom.
Congratulatory messages began to pour in as the Queen slowly recovered in her bedchamber. The toil of the last eighteen sunmarks was quickly forgotten as her heart teemed with tender love for her first born. She held the little babe close to her chest, rosy and healthy, mouth clutching to the tips of her bosom. She ran a light hand through his sparse soft hair.
In the room, young chambermaids fluttered about and chattered away between flapping the sheets and fluffing the pillows.
"Your highness, the prince is very well-behaved. He frets little and feeds naturally. When my Veer was born, he would keep the neighbors up all night, crying and fussing." Queen Rukmini gave Sanvi, one of the chambermaids, a polite smile, quickly turning her gaze back to the little boy, lest she missed too many of these precious moments.
Tanvi, Sanvi's older sister, chimed in, "My Queen, I heard the king is riding back from his expedition in haste. He must be so proud."
Moments later, the royal announcer yelled from outside the Queen's chamber, "King Shaktidev is presenting himself."
No sooner did he finish his call, a handsome and brawny man burst in through the doors.
"My queen, I deeply apologize for my absence." The ladies left discreetly.
"Not to worry, you are here now, my king." Queen Rukmini turned to the baby. "Son, it is your father."
King Shaktidev had conquered countless kingdoms, great and small, and ruled them all with an iron fist. Realms of the North, the South, the East, and the West bowed to his might, calling him the sovereign ruler of the land. However, as he held the boy in his arms, his heart swelled with joy he had never felt on any battlefield. His eyes moistened with tears and his chest puffed out with pride.
"I will urgently summon the Mahaguru for the blessings and send news to the four realms." He then turned to Rukmini and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.
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Wrapped in white garb, an old scholarly man appeared from a humble cottage. His coarse greying hair and long, shaggy beard buried his bony face. His quick, little eyes peered through the bushy brows and shifted from person to person. He walked hurriedly towards the old tower that was spurting fireworks like a fire breathing dragon lighting the dark sky. He turned up his head to view the spectacle and did not see the child who came crashing into him.
"Scram, you little imp. Don't you see I am on my way to the Sun Palace on an urgent business?! Scram!"
The 'imp' cared little of the old man's business but fled, nevertheless, to avoid being caught by his other little friends in a game of tag. The scholarly man turned back and marched on, quietly muttering to himself a mental list of items to requisition from the royal inventory for the prince's official name giving ceremony.
Kundali, the capital city of Rakhtaprastha, had erupted in cheers following the birth of their crown prince. The city's sky was wrapped in gold banners and bunting flags, while the ground drummed with busy feet of eager residents. Some were drawing colored patterns of rangoli on their courtyards; others were lighting clay lamps. The confectionery shops competed to make the most delicious and rare sweets to mark the arrival of the heir to the throne. Children scampered around the busy streets, not heeding their elders, sensing the festive mood.
A bracing and short walk later, the old man was at the enormous palace gates. The palace sentries did not stop him on his way, aware of his esteemed status in the royal household. Soon, the guard announced his arrival in the king's council chamber.
"Mahaguru Briharshi, regards." King Shaktidev joined the palms of his hands in a gesture of deference and bowed slightly. The guru walked up to the king, his sharp eyes darting across the room, stopping at the royal figure for a slight nod.
The king continued. "I am thankful for your immediate presence. Please, this way."
King Shakti led Mahaguru to the inner chamber, where the queen waited with the baby sleeping on her lap. Guru Briharshi approached the baby, sounds of his chants filling the room. He rummaged through his sack and dug out some ceremonial leaves and holy water from the Pond of Eternal Sentience. He performed a small ritual to bless the prince. Once done, Guru Briharshi took the babe in his arms to properly scrutinize to its forehead, where the child's destiny was written.
"Do you have a name in mind, Mahaguru?"
"I do. A son born under the auspicious sign of the Sun, with a radiant glow on his face, his name shall be Suryadev."
"You have bestowed a great honor upon our son, Guruji."
The royal couple smiled and lowered their heads to show gratitude. But Guru Briharshi paid them no mind as his troubled eyes stared at the babe. On its forehead, he saw a fate unforeseen even by the gods, a path converged by the paths of the past, present, and future.