Drupada remained silent for several moments.
Karna could see him thinking.
The king's eyes moved toward the fire, then toward the offerings that had been prepared for the final stage of the yajna
. It was not an insignificant decision.
A king asking the gods for a child was not merely asking for a son or daughter to hold in his arms.
He was thinking about succession, about the future of his kingdom, about the stability of Panchala after his own death. Karna understood that better than most.
A king could not easily separate his personal desires from the needs of his kingdom, no matter how much he wished to.
Drupada finally reached for his sword and placed it before Agni as an offering.
He followed it with his armour, then gold and numerous treasures that had been prepared for the sacrifice.
The metal ornaments clinked against one another as they were placed near the flames, and the fire reflected their golden surfaces before consuming the offerings.
Drupada joined his palms. "O Agni Dev, I ask for a son who obeys his father and never goes against my wishes."
Karna's eyes narrowed slightly. He said nothing.
Drupada continued, his voice carrying across the quiet sacrificial ground. "I ask for a son who is as divine as yourself, embodying your qualities."
Another offering entered the fire.
Then Drupada spoke his final wish. "And I ask for a son who is completely focused on his goal and will never forget it."
Karna's frown deepened.
'That is dangerously close to what I warned him against.'
He had told Drupada not to define the purpose of his child's life, yet the last quality he had asked for was not simply determination.
He wanted a son who would possess an unwavering focus upon his goal.
Karna wondered what Drupada himself had in mind when he said those words.
He could guess, of course. Kings carried grudges as easily as they carried weapons, and Drupada had his own history of humiliation and resentment.
But Karna had no intention of accusing him without knowing his thoughts.
Whatever lay within Drupada's heart was his own burden. Karna's role was to ensure that the ritual was completed correctly. He therefore remained silent, even as the flames suddenly began to brighten again.
*
Meanwhile, the fire grew larger.
The flames rose around the yajna kund, twisting upward as though something within them was gathering shape.
The priests stopped their movements for a moment, watching in astonishment, while Drupada leaned forward despite himself.
Karna did not move.
His eyes remained fixed upon the fire.
Slowly, a form began to appear inside the flames. At first it was only a vague outline, difficult to distinguish through the brightness, but then the shape became clearer.
A head emerged. Shoulders followed. Arms, a torso and legs gradually took form until the outline of an adult human being stood within the fire itself. Karna watched without blinking.
There was no ordinary birth taking place before them.
There was no mother, no labour, no infant.
The figure was simply being formed by the yajna, shaped by the divine power that had answered Drupada's request. The flames suddenly became almost blinding, forcing many of those gathered around the yajna kund to close their eyes and turn their faces away.
Then came the flash.
For a moment, everything disappeared beneath white light.
Karna instinctively narrowed his eyes and waited.
When everyone's vision finally returned, the fire had settled once again, and standing beside the yajna kund was an adult man.
He appeared fully formed, his body possessing the strength and proportions of a trained warrior rather than a newborn child.
The hundreds of Brahmins stared at him, some with open astonishment, while Drupada looked at the figure as though he could scarcely believe what he was seeing. Karna, however, remained focused on the ritual. He knew that this was not yet the end. There was another child still to emerge.
"Do not focus on him now," Karna told Drupada. "Now, speak about your daughter, Raja Drupada."
Drupada took a slow breath.
His gaze briefly moved toward the warrior who had emerged from the flames, but there was still another part of the yajna that had to be completed.
Karna waited patiently.
He expected Drupada to speak of the daughter with the same consideration he had given to his son, perhaps to ask for wisdom, courage, compassion or some other quality that would shape her life.
Instead, Drupada simply said, "I have no preference or particular wish concerning the daughter I shall have. Whatever the gods give me, I accept."
His words were simple, almost dismissive.
He reached for the final offering prepared for her.
It was merely a silver platter filled with coins. Nothing more.
No sword, no armour, no great treasure. He placed it into the flames and withdrew his hand.
Karna watched him quietly.
Something about it bothered him, though he could not immediately explain why.
Perhaps it was simply the contrast.
Drupada had spoken carefully about his son, had thought about the qualities he wanted and had offered treasures to accompany those wishes, yet when it came to the daughter, he had barely asked for anything at all.
'Perhaps he truly does not care what kind of daughter he receives,' Karna thought, and there was a faint bitterness in the realization.
He knew too well how easily society could value children differently according to what they were expected to become.
A son was often treated as the future of the family, while a daughter was treated as someone who would eventually leave it. He did not say any of this aloud. It was not his place to lecture Drupada during the final moments of a sacred ritual.
The flames rose again.
The second form began to emerge from Agni, slowly at first, until the outline of a woman became visible within the brightness.
Her figure gradually took shape beside the warrior who had already emerged, and then another flash of light filled the sacrificial enclosure.
When the light faded, a beautiful woman stood beside the young man, fully formed and untouched by the ordinary process of birth.
For a few moments, nobody spoke.
The five hundred Brahmins remained silent, the rain continued falling beyond the sacrificial ground, and the smell of wet earth mixed with the smoke of the yajna.
Drupada stared at the two figures before him, his son and daughter, both born from the sacred fire. The young man stood with the appearance of a fully grown warrior, while beside him stood the beautiful woman, equally untouched by the ordinary process of birth.
Drupada was still struggling to take in what he was seeing.
His eyes moved repeatedly between the two children, and for perhaps the first time since the yajna had begun, the weight of what had just happened seemed to reach him completely. These were not merely blessings spoken about in a prayer. They were now standing before him. His son and his daughter.
Karna then spoke, bringing Drupada's attention back to the final stage of the ritual. "Now, Raja Drupada, you must bathe them with milk, as one would bathe a newborn child. After that, dress them in clothes and ornaments. Once that is done, there is one final step. You must use your own blood to apply a tika upon their foreheads while giving them their names. Only then will their births be complete."