In the course of fate, a divine lotus pond manifested itself before Amba, as if by destiny’s design. Along with it, a garland was given to her, accompanied by a prophecy: this garland would one day rest upon the earth and bring relief to her sorrow. It was declared that whomever wore this garland, bestowed by the divine, would become the agent of Bhishma’s death. Amba, tormented by rejection, lamented her plight. Salva, whom she had once hoped to wed, refused her, citing her prior attachment to another. Stricken by grief, she felt bereft of both righteousness and desire, left only with the weight of her sorrow. Without a husband and desperate, she wandered, crying out to all Kshatriyas, proclaiming that this garland would be the means by which Bhishma would fall. She vowed that she would become the wife of the one who would slay Bhishma. For five long years, Amba wandered, seeking a protector among the Kshatriyas, but none dared to offer her refuge, each afraid of incurring Bhishma’s wrath. Eventually, she journeyed to the land of the Panchalas and stood at the assembly doorway, guarded and imposing, where Drupada—the steadfast, great-armed, ever-truthful king and upholder of righteousness—held court. Amba cried out, recalling how Bhishma had seized her, likening her plight to one sinking in a deep pool. She called to Yajnasena, urging him to take her hand and lift her up, so that her duties and joys might be preserved. She lamented that both worlds, her fame, and all she held dear had been seized, and that no Kshatriya was willing to protect the helpless anymore. Addressing the assembled kings—elders of the Ikshvakus and the foremost of the Panchalas—she pleaded for justice, beseeching Yajnasena to be gracious and allow her to find her course with him. King Drupada responded with measured wisdom. He assured her that he recognized her plight and, to the best of his ability and in accordance with righteousness, would maintain his strength. If she feared another king, he had the power to remove that fear. Yet, he confessed that he was not master over Bhishma, son of Shantanu, who wielded mighty weapons, for among Kshatriyas, strength must follow righteousness. He told her to go, for Bhishma would not harm him by force, and that he had not accepted her—something all present knew, though he did not understand why. Thus addressed, Amba placed the garland at the king’s doorway and fled from his presence. Renowned throughout the worlds for her austerity and steadfast vows, she was followed by Drupada, who offered her words of consolation, urging her to take back the garland and avoid inciting enmity. Still, Amba’s mind was resolute; she saw her fate as divinely ordained, not a matter of human will. She proclaimed that whoever took up the garland and wore it would be the one to slay Bhishma, destroyer of her righteousness. King Drupada kept the garland for some time, but eventually, he grew indifferent and neglected it. In time, Shikhandini, as a child, took up the garland and placed it on herself, disregarding her father’s fears. Alarmed, Drupada abandoned Shikhandini, fearing Bhishma’s wrath. Shikhandini, frightened, sought out a Brahmin ascetic who was performing austerities on the banks of the Ganga. She served him faithfully, and the sage, pleased with her devotion, told her that a division would soon take place among the Gandharvas at the ford of the Ganga. He instructed her to strive to propitiate Tumburu, the king of the Gandharvas, who was pleasing to behold. The sage promised to assist her, assuring her that Tumburu would bring her benefit. At that place, a division did indeed occur among the Gandharvas, leaving two of equal splendor. One of them, wishing to become a woman, addressed Shikhandini and offered her his male form in exchange for her female form. They made an agreement: one would become a woman, the other a man. Thus, Shikhandini, destroyer of enemy heroes, was transformed into a man, while the Gandharva joyfully departed in his new female form. Yajnaseni, now of great fame, found immense satisfaction in this transformation. Shikhandi, as he was now known, journeyed to Budbudaka and there acquired divine weapons. Armed with these, he returned to Panchala and, with joined palms, bowed before his father, the mighty archer Drupada, assuring him that Bhishma need no longer be feared. Meanwhile, after Amba’s departure, Bhishma, son of Shantanu, arranged for the marriage rites of the king to be performed according to law. Vichitravirya, the Kaurava prince, proud of his beauty, righteous yet passionate, married Ambika and Ambalika in the presence of sacred fire. Both brides were tall and dark, with curled black hair, red prominent nails, broad hips, and full breasts. Feeling they had obtained a husband worthy of themselves, the auspicious maidens honored Vichitravirya. United in affection, he, resembling the twin Ashvins and equal to the gods in valor, captivated the hearts of all women in private.