Once upon a time, in the fabled kingdom of Tanishqprastha, there lived a great monarch who built an empire that gleamed with gold, generosity and grace. His jewels adorned queens, his chariots ruled the roads, his shelters healed the sick, and his vayu vimaans connected distant lands. But most of all, his word was law, and his values, legendary.

As the wise king grew older, he did what all great rulers eventually must: entrust his mighty throne to the next generation. He chose a successor who was young and thoughtful. The empire rejoiced, court poets sang paeans of continuity and vision. But kingdoms are rarely content with smooth transitions.

In Tanishqprastha, people soon noticed that the empire had two suns - the elder one, venerable and warm, who had for decades nourished the land with light and ethics; and the younger one, who wanted to blaze a new path across the skies. At first, their light shone in harmony. The old king smiled upon his heir, and the young ruler bowed with respect. But, soon, clouds appeared on the horizon. The council of ministers, once loyal to one, now whispered loyalties to both.

The young ruler, impatient for reform, began to reorganise the empire. He dreamt of new roads, towers, frontiers. But in his zeal, he sometimes forgot the invisible threads of tradition that had held Tanishqprastha together. The old guard, alarmed, whispered that the empire's soul was being traded.

One day, courtiers gasped as the royal seal was withdrawn from the young monarch's hand. 'He has been relieved of his duties,' read the scroll. The kingdom murmured in disbelief. Some called it justice, others betrayal. The young ruler left the palace gates, vowing that history would judge him kindly. The old king, pained yet resolute, took charge again though his crown now weighed heavier than ever before.

What followed was a long season of silence. Markets whispered, guilds speculated, and bards sharpened their quills. Yet, through storms and lawsuits, Tanishqprastha's merchants continued their work, its craftsmen their art. The empire endured, for its foundations were built on a shared sense of purpose.

When everyone thought the saga had been laid to rest, a new chapter unfolded. The old king departed to the heavens, leaving behind an empire of great magnitude and enterprise that defined Tanishqprastha.

The courtiers began their quest for a new king. The search ended on the banks of river Trenta. The long-silent noble leader was crowned through claims of continuity and conscience. He had already carved a name for himself as a savvy trader in high streets, and his surname accorded him loyalty of subjects.

For a year, calm prevailed. The court sang of renewal, caravans moved smoothly, and the crown glistened again. However, once again, old power struggles began to stir. Some said it was merely family dust shaken loose. Others called it the destiny of great houses - that even the resilient trees shed leaves when seasons turn. The royal family's distant merchant-ally relative desired greater control of the empire. After all, he claimed, as kingmaker, to have helped anoint the prince of Trenta as heir to lead Tanishqprastha.

At the heart of the 'melee' lies the desire to reinterpret the very samvidhaan that binds Tanishqprastha together. What began as a quiet disagreement over interpretation has evolved into a contest of control. Tremors have once again shaken the palace corridors, leaving a discordant note among ministers and courtiers. Besides the king and kingmaker, the chessboard also had a knight and bishop on one side, and two knights on the other.

In a re-enactment of the Ides of October, the merchant-ally found himself unexpectedly checkmated. In truth, this saga is more about tug-of-legacy, control, decency and decorum. For decades, the twin pillars of the empire stood shoulder to shoulder, building one of the most trusted realms in the land. But, unfortunately, this seems to have cracked.

The palace grounds now appear calm, though it feels more like an intermission than an ending. Whether this is the calm before the storm is a 'mystery' only time will unveil. As for the new king, it's a moment to draw deeply from his legacy and fortify the empire to face realities of a new world order. For, in realms built on trust, succession is more about conscience than crown. Empires don't fracture when power centres disagree. They fracture when pride blinds judgement.

And, yet, as with all sagas that have stood the test of time, the path may be treacherous, but they still end with a 'happily ever after'. The people of Tanishqprastha can rest easy in the hope that wisdom, not wounded pride, will prevail. For, the 'jewelled' crown may pass from hand to hand. But its lustre, like its legacy, belongs to all.