Devyani: Tempered by Adversity (Part 1)

Companions in Unequal Worlds

Devyani is the daughter of Shukracharya, the guru whose counsel upholds the strength of the Asura kingdom.
Sharmishtha is the princess of Asuras, born to the Asura King Vrishaparva.

As a constant royal companion to Sharmishtha, Devyani grows up in the palace, playing and studying by her side, but pride lies between them — a rivalry quiet yet constant, neither willing to yield.

Though they move as companions, Devyani and Sharmishtha do not walk the same ground. Sharmishtha’s authority is visible — royal blood, courtly command, the expectation of obedience. Devyani’s power is quieter, but heavier. It does not announce itself; it arrives before her, carried by her father’s reputation. Each senses the other’s advantage, though neither names it.

Devyani grows with an unspoken certainty that the world bends, if not to her will, then at least to her father’s voice. Where Shukracharya walks, kings listen; where he pauses, empires hesitate. That assurance settles quietly into Devyani’s spine. She does not yet know the difference between strength earned and strength inherited. She has already seen devotion mistaken for destiny — in Kacha’s reverence, in his willingness to suffer for her father’s knowledge, and in the ease with which such sacrifice is accepted as her due. She believes that when she walks in, doors open, arguments soften, and even when she demands unfairly, consequences often belong to others.

Devyani is not arrogant; she carries security — the kind that has never been tested.

And in that unspoken awareness of each other’s advantage, rivalry quietly takes root.

The Riverbank

One afternoon they go with the palace maidens to bathe in the river. Their garments lie together on the sandy bank. A sudden gust scatters them; in the confusion, Sharmishtha picks up a dress, thinking it her own.

Devyani’s voice cuts through the laughter. “How dare you touch what is mine?”

Her tone, sharp and public, stings deeper than any slap. The maidens fall silent.

Sharmishtha’s jaw tightens. “It was a mistake. There is no need for insult.”

But Devyani, flushed with pride, retorts. “A mistake? Without my father, your kingdom would be dust. Remember where your strength comes from.”

A faint murmur moves through the group. Sharmishtha’s pride, fierce and young, bursts its restraint. She pushes Devyani away — an instant of blind heat, meant to silence humiliation, not to cause harm.

There is a scream.

Devyani’s body disappears over the bank into the old well hidden behind reeds. The sound of her fall echoes sharply and then dies.

In the darkness below, certainty vanishes. No lineage answers her cry. No authority echoes back. Stone presses close, indifferent to names and rank. For the first time, Devyani feels the terror of being merely a body — cold, bruised, unheard. The thought cuts deeper than fear: If I die here, my father’s power dies with me.

Sharmishtha is shocked by the gravity of what she has done. She waits for Devyani to call again, certain she will climb out or reappear, angry and drenched. Devyani is unable to come out on her own. Fear coils beneath Sharmishtha's ribs — but pride holds her rigid. She turns away and walks back toward the palace, her steps steady though her heart races. She does not yet know the depth of the well, nor the depth of consequence.

The Rescue

Hours pass. Shukracharya waits for his daughter, the stillness around him tightening like a noose. Anxiety spreads through the palace.

Meanwhile, Prince Yayati, hunting in the forest, hears faint cries rising from stone. Following the sound, he finds Devyani clinging to a ledge inside the well, shivering and weak.

He lowers himself carefully, lifts her up, and brings her to safety.

As air returns to her lungs, Devyani feels fury rising in her. The helplessness she tasted burns hotter than the fall itself. Something within her hardens. She will not remain the girl who waited in darkness. If power has spared her once, she will bind it to herself forever.

Sharmishtha must answer for what she endured.

The Judgment

Yayati brings Devyani back to Shukracharya's ashram. Shukracharya turns to Yayati. “You saved my daughter’s life. Ask for a gift worthy of that deed.”

Yayati bows with respect. “If it is your wish, let Devyani be my wife.”

When Devyani recounts the well incident, Shukracharya’s anger surges. He refuses to go to Vrishaparva’s court as usual. Alarmed, the king goes himself to the ashram and apologizes earnestly. Devyani trembles with rage as she speaks: “Sharmishtha left me. She walked away.”

Shukracharya’s fury breaks restraint. “She could have died. Justice must be done.”

Vrishaparva’s voice is heavy with helplessness. “Our people depend on your guidance. Declare the punishment.”

The decree comes like iron: “Sharmishtha shall serve Devyani as maid, with a thousand maidens.”

Silence falls.

Sharmishtha stands unmoving — in that stillness she understands exactly what her moment of anger has destroyed. She bows without a word.

Devyani watches Sharmishtha bow, and a quiet certainty settles within her. The world has righted itself. What fell into chaos has been restored through justice — her justice. The well no longer looms in memory; it shrinks, receding into a lesson taught and learned.

Fate, she believes, has been mastered.

Servitude

After marriage Yayati takes her to Pratishthana as his queen. Sharmishtha follows as chief attendant, leading the maidens of her retinue. She stands behind Devyani in the royal court — present yet unseen.

Devyani watches her closely, searching for cracks; Sharmishtha refuses to offer even a flicker of weakness.

Devyani takes this silence as submission, unaware that endurance can harden into strength.

Read Devyani: Tempered by Adversity Part 2