In the place of Varanavata,

A wave of fear spread through the city of Vanaravata.

The festivities of Lord Shiva had been going on in full swing. Or at least it had been. The Pandavas had come there. So had all the people in the city.

People were happy as they looked at the sights and sounds of the fair. They had been thrilled.

The Pandavas had even called all the people for a feast.

There all the people in the palace had been rather thrilled in knowing that another feast to see another group of mother with her five sons also come to the feast.

But all that was past.

Because now as the evening sun was setting, the fire was raging in the palace of Varanavata.

The palace which had housed the Pandavas. For the past year.

The people and the palace guards were trying to put out the fire, but the fire was uncontrollable. Which the people did not understand at all. No matter how much water or mud, they poured on the house, the fire did not go out.

It seemed... as if everything in the house was inflammable and ready to catch fire.

A group of people pulled out one charred body from just outside the palace.

The guard was panting. "Purochana!" The guard pointed a trembling hand at the charred body. "This is Purochana. He stayed here with the Pandavas to look after them. He was the one who constructed this.. palace..."

There was a sudden shout from one portion of the building as two to three coughing guards came out of the room as the room from which they had come out was burning ferociously.

"Room... of... Pandavas..." One of the guards coughed as he thumbed back.

"Six... bodies... charred beyond recognition..." Another guard coughed as the people were trying to run out of the structure, before it was all burnt down.

That was when the ripple of fear spread through the entire place.

The Pandavas. They were burnt. Burnt alive. The Pandavas were dead.