In the Mughal Empire, Agra:
Within the royal palace, the monarch, Muhammad the Fifth, was in a conversation with a middle-aged man. This individual was none other than the fakir who had been dispatched to the Vijayanagara Empire on a mission to support the rebels.
"How did it go?" the king inquired with anticipation in his eyes. If, by Allah's blessing, the Vijayanagara Empire was weakened in this civil war, it would pave the way for his conquest of the non-believers after he had finished consolidating his rule.
Hearing the king's question, the fakir felt a sense of humiliation thinking about the experiences he had in the Vijayanagara empire, as he responded, sweat trickling down his forehead. "Your Highness, unfortunately, the rebellious forces led by Vimal couldn't maintain the advantage they had at the beginning of the conflict.
Ultimately, the blasphemers ended up failing you, despite the resources they had been so graciously granted. They couldn't even secure a victory which they had in their grasp. I deeply regret this failure and implore you to punish me, Your Highness. I am just a humble servant who couldn't fulfil the mission you entrusted to me."
His voice carried remorse as he spoke. A heavy silence hung in the air as Muhammad stared at the kneeling man before him without any emotion . Tension filled the atmosphere, creating an aura of uncertainty and anxiety.
"Get out," the emperor finally pronounced, his voice tinged with disappointment. The sound of his words resonated throughout the royal palace, breaking the silence that had prevailed till the last moment.
After hearing the Emperor's verdict, the fakir, who had been kneeling anxiously, stood up quickly and left the room. He knew that even though his life had not been taken away, his hopes for a successful political future within the empire had been completely destroyed.
Despite this heartbreaking setback, he could find some comfort in the fact that he was still alive and could continue to breathe, even though the grand plans and dreams he had planned for his career were now nothing but a pile of ruins and ashes.
Back in the palace, Muhammad, having observed the fakeer's departure, took a sip from a cup of wine that his servant had brought him. Contemplating the news of Vijayanagara strengthening their internal power, he felt a sense of urgency in his actions. With a ring from his bell, he summoned the empire's minister to stand before him.
After a brief interval, the minister entered the hall, bowing respectfully before the king. Muhammad gestured for him to rise as he commanded in a domineering tone, "Accelerate the pace of the empire's integration by any means necessary, even if a mountain of corpses is to be the cost."
His voice was frigid, carrying an icy intent. "It seems that the overweight swine in the south is attempting to shed some of its bulk and become a more formidable threat to us lions, But unfortunately, a swine will always remain a swine."
Today holds great significance in the history of the empire, as it marks the day when the nobles faced public execution for the first time in the subcontinent's history. The news of the rebellion rippled across the kingdom a few days ago, like a boulder thrown into a calm lake, creating waves that spread throughout the empire.
The people were furious by the rebels' audacity to rise against their benevolent monarch. However, before they could react, the common folk were quickly overjoyed by the rebellion's instant suppression by the army, celebrating the downfall of their oppressive bloodsucking overlords. Their voices resounded with praises for King Vijay Deva Raya, the ruler of the empire.
However, there was another group of people who weren't as content. The upper-caste community found themselves in a state of confusion after the recent events. Although they hadn't actively engaged in the rebellion, a small ember of hope had flickered within their hearts, wishing for the rebellion's success and the preservation of their privileges.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, those aspirations were left unfulfilled.
In any case, with the foundation of Emperor Vijay Deva Raya's reign firmly established, who would dare provoke the Chakravarthy Vijay Devaraya at this juncture of his rule?
Inside a designated building meant to house the prisoners, i.e., a jail, a group of rebels found themselves confined in the celler. They were swiftly brought out into the open air, where they were exposed to the public eye, and met with a barrage of stones from the crowd. The assault caused their skin to break, leaving their bodies bruised and bleeding.
Amidst this grim spectacle, Vijay made his entrance.
As the people paid their respects by bowing their heads to the monarch, Vijay's gaze fell upon his cousin, who was now in chains. Seeing him in this state, Vijay did not harbour even a hint of pity in his eyes. Perhaps, if these same circumstances were placed in front of him before the battle, he might have hesitated.
However, Mina's death had made it clear to him that this was a dog-eat-dog world, and the only way to survive was to be the bigger dog. Without any hesitation, he unceremoniously kicked the chair that was propping Vimal up.
"Caw caw", A murder of crows was looming in the air, smelling Death.
As the chair was pushed, Vimal struggled to take one more breath before he couldn't anymore.
As he took his last breath, the raven welcomed his departing soul to the Naraka Loka.