Ganga watched the baby drink from the conjured bottle of milk, his golden kundals glittering in the moonlight. He looked up at her—his eyes too focused, too knowing, like he understood the weight of her every word.She tilted her head."Strange child…" she murmured. "What soul sleeps within you?" Ganga, one of the oldest forces of nature, had seen many children of the gods. But this infant—this Karna—was different. Even before his armor appeared, she felt an aura she couldn't place. Not just divine… not just powerful.
Familiar, in a way that disturbed her.
🌊 A Child That Shouldn't Exist
She held him close and whispered to the river."Reveal his past."The water shimmered… but gave her nothing."Nothing?" she frowned. "No soul memories? No karmic ties? Not even the usual divine echoes?"
The river was silent. The boy, now sleepy again, clutched her robe with his tiny hand.This wasn't possible.
Even avatars of gods left ripples in the fabric of time. But this boy? It was as if he had appeared from outside the cycle entirely.
"Who are you… little one?" she whispered, brushing his forehead.Unbeknownst to Ganga, Karna's soul—his modern soul—had shielded itself instinctively. Somewhere deep within, he knew that revealing too much, too soon, could destroy this second chance.
He felt her love. Her confusion. Her power.And for now… he chose silence.
But when she fed him again and laid him in a cradle of woven waterlotus, Karna opened his eyes once more—just briefly—and stared at the stars. In that moment, for just a heartbeat, the divine river mother saw something flash in his eyes. A flicker of an older world. A pain not born from this life.Then it was gone."A vision?" she asked herself.
She walked to the window of her floating palace, looking down at the mortal world far below."I don't know where you came from, child… but I swear this: you will never be discarded again."
With a whisper to the winds, Ganga parted the veil between dimensions. The waters swirled into a spiral, and she stepped through it, entering a hidden realm known only to the gods and sages—a place between Earth and Heaven.
There, she brought baby Karna to her sacred abode: a floating palace of crystal and riverlight, suspended above the source of all rivers.
She summoned the divine caretakers of the waters—Apsaras, river nymphs, and sages—and declared:
"This child is under my protection. He shall be taught the wisdom of the gods, the courage of warriors, and the compassion of sages. But above all, he shall know who he is."
Ganga's palace floated above the source of the sacred waters, unseen by gods and mortals alike. It shimmered like crystal, woven from moonlight and flowing with the chants of a thousand sages. It was in this sanctum, suspended between dimensions, that the child Karna would grow.
But Ganga kept a secret.She told no one.Not the devas, not the Nagas, not even her old consort Shantanu. For reasons she couldn't explain, she felt that this child was too important, too mysterious… and too vulnerable.
"Some destinies are written in silence," she told herself.
She sang lullabies made of tides and wind. She wrapped him in clouds and lotus silk. At night, she let him fall asleep to the sound of ancient chants flowing through the river veins.Karn smiled often. But his eyes... his eyes always watched, always studied.As a toddler, he rarely played for long. Instead, he would follow the water currents with curiosity, tracing their direction as though trying to map where they once led.
By the age of five, Karn was already asking strange questions.
"Why do I feel heavy when I dream of battlefields?""Why do I see a chariot wheel stuck in the mud?""Why do the names 'Arjuna' and 'mother' hurt my heart?"
Ganga, worried, gave gentle answers.
"Perhaps you dream of lives not your own.""Perhaps some souls carry echoes.""You are safe here. Let the world wait."
But each year, his eyes grew more aware.By age seven, he could summon a glowing arrow from thin air, simply by whispering a forgotten name. He could bend water like silk and float for hours without breathing.Ganga began to fear what she had brought into her world."He's not just divine," she told herself. "He is remembering."
One night, Karn wandered into the Hall of Waters, where Ganga kept memories stored in mirrors of flowing light. He stared at one for hours, unmoving.It showed a great war. Brothers at war. A man in golden armor falling to the ground. A divine discus spiraling through the air.When Ganga found him, he was crying silently."I died there," he whispered.She knelt beside him, shaken. "What did you see?""My death. My fate. But I want to live again… differently."For the first time, Karn hugged her tightly, like a child clinging to something real—something still his.
"Then I will raise you as long as I can," Ganga vowed. "Until you choose to enter the world again… on your own terms."