When the flames of ambition flared in the heart of Prince Talkhand, he delayed no longer in preparing for a fratricidal war. Opening the royal treasuries of their late father, he distributed breastplates, helms, and gleaming armor to his hosts. A heavy dread gripped the realm, and wise men pondered in dismay which of the two princely brothers the wheel of destiny would elevate and which it would crush. From every corner of the land, armies gathered like swelling floods. Talkhand donned his war mail, eager for blood, while Prince Gav, offering prayers for his father's soul, laced on his armor with a heart burdened by grief.
Both young princes mounted the armored backs of mighty war elephants. The plains resounded with the thunder of brass drums, Indian chimes, and clear sounding horns. A dense cloud of dust rose into the firmament, dimming the very eyes of the sky. The lines were drawn two miles long, flanked by footmen, spearmen, and shield-bearers, under glittering banners depicting eagles and tigers. As Prince Gav gazed upon the grim battlefield—the sky turning dark as a leopard's back—his soul burned with love for his brother despite Talkhand's blind wrath. Desiring to stay the blade of slaughter, Gav selected an eloquent, noble envoy to deliver a solemn plea for peace.
The envoy approached Talkhand, bearing Gav's words: 'O brother, seek not unrighteous war, nor stain your hands with innocent blood, for which you must answer before the Almighty. Listen to the counsel of wisdom and close your ears to flatterers. Let not our legacy be the devastation of India into a wasteland for tigers and lions. Take the treasury and the crown; I shall gladly bow to your rule if it preserves peace.'
Yet Talkhand, his eyes ablaze with arrogance, scornfully replied: 'I call him neither brother nor friend! He is a sinner before God and the true ruin of this realm. I need no land or treasures granted by his hand—all authority from the sun down to the depths of the ocean belongs to me! Now that the ranks are drawn and spears are bared, there is no path left but the clash of steel!' With this grim refusal, the envoy returned as night descended over the silent camp.