Dusk cast long shadows over the quarry beyond Hastinapura, its rocky walls glowing faintly orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. Heavy stone weights, smooth and gray, were piled beside a sparring ring scratched into the dusty earth, their edges worn from years of use. The air grew cool and still, carrying the sharp scent of stone and sweat, while the faint crunch of gravel echoed as the princes trudged in, their tunics streaked with the day's dust. The quarry stretched wide and somber, a proving ground trembling under the twilight, ready to test their limits with iron and endurance.
Drona stood at the ring's edge, his lean frame steady in the fading light, his tattered white robes fluttering faintly as he brushed dust from his hands. His gray hair was tied back tight, and his dark eyes gleamed with a stern, observant fire as he faced the Kuru princes. In one hand, he held his staff, its tip planted firm in the cracked soil; the other rested on a stack of wooden swords, their handles rough but sturdy. The princes gathered around him, their shoulders slumped from the day's work, their breaths puffing in the cooling air as they eyed the weights, curiosity mingling with weariness.
Bhima rocked on his heels, his massive frame casting a shadow over the stones, his broad grin flashing wide as he clapped his hands with a loud thud that stirred the dust. "Back in the quarry, guru?" he said, his voice booming across the rocks, loud enough to echo faintly. "Those stones look heavy! We smashing with them today?"
Drona turned to him, his expression calm but unyielding, his voice cutting through the dusk with steady force. "Not smashing, Bhima," he said, his tone deep and firm, quieting the air for a moment. "Carrying. Today's endurance. You'll spar with swords, weights on your backs. Five strikes each, or until one falls. Strength and will together."
Bhima's grin stretched wider, his eyes lighting up as he laughed, the sound rumbling over the quarry. "Weights on my back?" he said, his tone bright and eager, grabbing a sword with a grunt. "I'll haul a mountain and still win! Let's go, guru!"
"Haul less, last longer," Drona replied, his voice dry and patient, pointing at the stones. "Pair up. Take a weight. Begin when I call."
Duryodhana strode forward, his chin high, his dark hair glinting in the last light as he gripped a sword tight. "Endurance?" he said, his voice low and edged with a smirk, his brow lifting slightly. "I'll outlast them all. No one's dropping me. Guru, I'm set."
"Prove it," Drona said, his tone stern and sharp, meeting Duryodhana's smirk with a nod. "Step in. Show me."
Arjuna stepped up beside them, his lean form quiet and still, his sandals scuffing the dirt as he studied the weights. His tunic clung with dampness, his breath even, and his dark eyes flicked to Drona with a steady focus. "This'll test us," he said, his voice soft but clear, nodding at the stones. "How do we carry them, guru?"
"On your shoulders," Drona said, his gaze settling on Arjuna with a flicker of warmth, his tone firm. "Feel the strain. Fight through it. You'll manage."
The princes moved to the pile, their footsteps kicking up dust, the quarry humming with the clink of swords and the scrape of stone as they hefted their weights. Bhima slung a massive stone over his shoulders, his muscles bulging, his laugh booming as he staggered into the ring to face Duryodhana. "Here we go!" he shouted, his voice ringing loud, the weight rocking as he gripped his sword. "Ready to dance, cousin? I've got a hill on me!"
"Dance yourself down," Duryodhana replied, his voice low and sharp, his smirk tight as he balanced his own stone, stepping in with his sword raised. "I'll bury you."
Drona raised his staff, his voice ringing clear over the stones. "Begin," he said, his tone steady and commanding, stepping back to watch.
Bhima lunged forward, his massive frame lumbering under the weight, his sword swinging in a wide arc as he roared. "Take this!" he shouted, his voice loud and fierce, the blade slicing toward Duryodhana's arm. The stone slowed him, his strike faltering, and Duryodhana parried, his own sword tapping Bhima's shoulder with a thud, his breath hissing under his load.
"Got you!" Duryodhana said, his tone sharp and proud, his smirk widening as he swung again, clipping Bhima's side.
Bhima laughed, his voice bright and unbothered, staggering back as the weight rocked. "Good one!" he said, his tone loud and cheerful, swinging his sword with a grunt. The blade tapped Duryodhana's chest, the stone on his back trembling, and he grinned wider, his chest heaving. "That's one! We're even!"
"Even for now," Duryodhana said, his voice low and gritted, his arms straining as he countered, his sword striking Bhima's leg with a solid thud. "Two for me."
The quarry pulsed with their efforts, the air thick with dust and the clack of wood—Bhima's heavy swings, Duryodhana's tense strikes, the creak of stone against their shoulders. Bhima pressed forward, his sword arcing again, tapping Duryodhana's arm as his breath grew ragged. "Two!" he said, his voice loud and triumphant, his legs shaking under the weight. "I'm still up!"
"Up's not winning," Duryodhana replied, his tone sharp and fierce, lunging with a grunt. His sword struck Bhima's chest, a third blow, and Bhima stumbled, his grin faltering as the stone tipped him back.
Drona stepped closer, his voice steady and firm as he watched. "Three each!" he said, his tone warm with patience, pointing at their stances. "Hold it, both of you. Fight the weight!"
"Fight it?" Bhima said, chuckling through a pant as he steadied himself, his sword raised. "I'm fighting a giant!" He swung again, his blade clipping Duryodhana's shoulder, but the effort buckled his knees, and he dropped with a thud, the stone crashing beside him as he laughed loud.
Duryodhana swung back, his sword aiming for Bhima's arm, but his own weight dragged him down, his legs giving out as he collapsed beside Bhima, panting hard. "Four," he said, his voice low and sharp, his smirk faint as he sprawled in the dust.
Bhima rolled onto his back, his chest heaving, his laugh echoing over the rocks. "Four?" he said, his tone bright and teasing, wiping sweat from his brow. "We're wrecked! Good scrap, huh?"
Drona stepped into the ring, his voice warm with pride as he nodded at them. "Four each?" he said, his tone ringing clear, his eyes gleaming. "Close and strong. Well fought."
Bhima sat up, his grin wide, his voice loud and cheerful as he tossed his stone aside. "Close!" he said, his tone bright and honest, reaching a hand to Duryodhana. "Up, cousin! You're tough as me!"
Duryodhana glared for a heartbeat, then took Bhima's hand, his smirk softening as he hauled himself up with a grunt. "Tough?" he said, his voice low and grudging, brushing dust from his tunic. "I'll take that. You're a beast, Bhima."
"Beast with heart!" Bhima said, his laugh booming as he clapped Duryodhana's shoulder, his tone loud and warm. "We're warriors now, huh?"
"Warriors, yes," Drona said, his tone stern but approving, his staff tapping the ground as he met their gazes. "Endurance forged. You've grown."
Arjuna moved closer, his sword set aside, his voice soft and steady as he glanced at the fallen weights. "That was fierce, guru," he said, his tone warm and honest, nodding at Bhima and Duryodhana. "They carried more than stone."
"More indeed," Drona replied, his pride clear, smiling faintly at Arjuna. "Will and rivalry. They'll carry you too."
Bhima lumbered to his feet, his chest heaving, his grin wide as he stretched his arms. "Rivalry?" he said, his voice loud and teasing, laughing through the dusk. "I'd carry him again! Good fight, Duryodhana!"
"Good for now," Duryodhana said, his voice low and sharp, his smirk returning as he flexed his shoulders. "Next time's mine."
Drona waved them off, his voice cutting through the twilight, his staff tapping once, twice. "Enough," he said, his tone warm and final, the quarry settling under the shadows. "Bhima, four hits, relentless and warm. Duryodhana, four, proud and enduring."
Bhima clapped his hands, his laugh booming as he brushed dust from his tunic. "Four's a haul!" he said, his voice loud and cheerful, grinning wide. "I'm a walking mountain! You kept up, cousin!"
"Kept up?" Duryodhana said, his smirk faint but fierce, his tone sly and edged as he straightened. "I'll lead next time. Watch me."
Arjuna smiled faintly, his voice soft and calm as he wiped his brow. "You both led today," he said, his tone warm and steady, nodding at them. "That was epic."
"Epic's right!" Bhima said, his voice loud and teasing, clapping Arjuna's back with a thud. "I'll haul two stones next time! We're champs!"