Chitrasena Attacks Arjuna After Gandharvas Routed

The gandharvas were breaking. Arjuna's arrows flew from his bow in an unbroken stream — each one finding its mark, each one driving the celestial warriors back. The forest rang with the sound of his bowstring, and the gandharva host, for all their divine weapons and their sky-borne chariots, could not hold against him. Chitrasena saw his warriors scatter. He saw them terrified — the gandharva king, who had fought alongside the gods themselves, watching his own forces flee before a single mortal archer. He grasped his iron mace and rushed at Savyasachi — Arjuna of the left hand, the one who could shoot with either arm. The mace was massive, forged for a gandharva's strength. Chitrasena raised it as he closed the distance. Arjuna did not move. He drew, aimed, and released. Arrow after arrow struck the mace in flight — not deflecting it, but shearing it. By the time Chitrasena was within striking range, the iron mace had been sliced into seven pieces that clattered uselessly to the ground. Chitrasena vanished. He was still there — Arjuna could feel his presence, could sense the shift in the air — but he was invisible, hidden through his powers of maya (divine illusion). Established in the sky, he began to strike at Arjuna from angles the Pandava could not see. He repulsed the celestial weapons Arjuna sent searching for him. The battle had turned invisible. Arjuna was angered. He could not see his opponent, but he could hear him — the whisper of movement through the air, the faint rustle of a gandharva's garments. He invoked divine weapons that could travel through the sky, mantras spoken, arrows released not at a target but into the space where the target might be. Then he used the shabdabheda weapon — the one designed to track by sound alone. The arrow did not need to see. It followed the noise of Chitrasena's movements, the displacement of air, the heartbeat of an invisible king. The weapon struck. Pierced by Arjuna's arrows, Chitrasena's invisibility dissolved. He was revealed — wounded, fighting feebly, his divine powers broken by the force of the Pandava's assault. Arjuna saw his face. He knew him. Chitrasena was not a stranger — he was a friend, a companion from Arjuna's time in Indra's heaven, a gandharva king who had taught him music and dance. The battle fury drained from Arjuna's face. He withdrew the weapon he had released, pulling back the divine force before it could do more damage. When Bhima, Nakula, and Sahadeva saw that Dhananjaya had withdrawn his weapons, they too restrained their swift steeds and lowered their bows and arrows. The battlefield fell silent. Chitrasena, Bhima, Savyasachi, and the twins — all still astride their chariots — asked about each other's welfare. The fight was over. The friends had found each other again.