Ashborn 324: A Meeting of Lords  (Patreon)

When Thaman, Raja of Clan Baira, wished to speak in private, Vir hadn’t expected the demon to ask him to meet at a location in another district in one hour. And he certainly hadn’t expected to meet the demon alone. Thaman had emphasized that not even Cirayus ought to attend.

After seeing Tara off to her carriage and returning home, Vir consulted Cirayus, who said that he should absolutely meet with the Bairan Raja.

“If that brat’s wanting to see you, it can only be a good thing. Surprising, though. He mentioned nothing like this  to me,” Cirayus said, stroking his beard.

“You’re not worried he explicitly didn’t want you there?” Vir asked.

“Not one bit. Knowing him, he has something planned. Something I’m quite certain I’ll like.”

While Vir may not have known Thaman, but if Cirayus vouched for him, that was good enough for Vir. He stripped out of his fancy silk clothes and donned his battle armor, covering it with a hooded black cloak. 

The cloak also hid his seric katar and Artifact chakram under its fabric.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back, but in case I don’t return…”

Cirayus snorted. “Don’t worry. If Thaman’s gone for more than a few hours, the entire city will be out looking for him.”

Vir supposed that was a fair point. It was unusual for heads of state to go anywhere on their own. Which only made Vir wonder what the Bairan Raja had planned. If he wanted to speak to Vir, why not organize a private meeting with Cirayus? 

What could he want from Vir that couldn’t be said in front of Thaman’s mentor?

Dawdling would get him nowhere, so Vir set out, leaving Shan behind with Cirayus.

As Vir bounded across the city, he couldn’t help but admire it. Camar Gadin was like Samar Patag in its architectural cues, but that was where the similarities ended.

The city was not only oversized; it was far more populous. This, despite Bairan longevity and low fertility rates. 

It just showed how decrepit the Chitran’s rule had been. Only those who absolutely couldn’t leave stayed, while people flocked to Camar Gadin from all over the realm.

Its streets were cleaner and its people more energetic, even at this late hour. 

Vir arrived at the spot, helped along by directions Cirayus had provided him earlier. It was on the outskirts of the city, and instead of the Bairan giant, Vir found nothing but an empty street.

An empty street with an oddly strong prana signature emanating from a bench on the sidewalk. Nothing else came nearly as close. Intrigued, and growing bored with waiting, Vir walked over and reached under the bench, finding a metal cylinder beneath it.

Opening the cap, Vir found an orb that looked awfully familiar.

It was the same type of orb that Cirayus had used to navigate them safely through the Ash.

Vir peered through the small hole on its surface and found an arrow, pointing a certain way.

“A lot of song and dance just to meet,” Vir mumbled, following the orb’s guidance. He didn’t Leap, but he moved faster than a normal sprint. With so many Warriors here for the Tournament, nobody would pay such a figure any mind, so he felt safe in doing so.

As Cirayus had said, Thaman had little time, and Vir didn’t want to keep the giant waiting.

Vir arrived at the city wall and realized his destination was outside somewhere. 

A Prana Vision scan showed no one around, and neither did his Life Chakra detect any presences nearby. 

Satisfied, Vir vaulted the tall, sturdy wall, soaring just above its wide rampart and landing gently on the other side.

Once out of the city, Vir didn’t hesitate to Leap to his destination.

He arrived ten minutes later at a location far closer to the Ash Boundary. Though not quite visible, Vir could feel the prana density. He was close.

And waiting for him was none other than the enormous giant.

Vir landed in front of Thaman and dusted off his clothing.

“Is all of this precaution necessary?”

“It is the bare minimum, I’m afraid. A Raja does not easily disappear, even when preparations have been laid well in advance.”

“So, you were planning this?” Vir asked. “What did you need to tell me that required Cirayus to be absent?”

“Tell you? I didn’t ask you here to tell you anything, boy. I need a favor.”

“A favor?” Vir repeated, genuinely surprised. “What can I do for someone of your stature?”

Thaman chuckled. “Humble, eh? Not a trait I’d have expected. But, well, allow me to show you. Follow me.”

Thaman bounded off, leaving Vir to follow. As he did, Vir analyzed Thaman’s movement art.

It was, without a doubt, Balancer of Scales. And yet, Thaman’s movements were more… mechanical. Jerkier than anything Vir had seen from Cirayus.

He hasn’t mastered the ability… Vir realized after a while. The revelation darkened Vir’s mood somewhat.

Thaman was centuries old. Perhaps not as many centuries as Cirayus, but if even this Bairan Raja hadn’t yet mastered the ability to the same extent as Cirayus, what hope did Vir have?

His rumination was cut short when Thaman arrived at an Ash Tear.

Vir’s interest was immediately piqued, because this was no ordinary Tear. It was enormous. One of the largest Vir had ever seen.

“Been a thorn in our side ever since it opened,” Thaman said, looking through the flickering portal. “It’s big enough to let larger Ash Beasts through, and stable enough that too many who try succeed.”

“I see,” Vir said. “Cirayus told you, did he?”

“That he did,” came Thaman’s muted response. 

What was the Bairan Raja thinking? Was he coming up with ways to get Vir to use his Gate powers for Baira? Or was he simply jealous?

“You want me to collapse this Tear?” Vir asked, inspecting the gaping portal. It was easily twenty paces across, and ten high. “I admit, I’ve never attempted that on a Tear this large, though it shouldn’t be much of a problem. Destruction is far easier than stabilization, after all.”

“You misunderstand me, boy,” Thaman said, a grin creeping up on his face. “I don’t want you to destroy it. I want you to stabilize it!”

Vir gave the giant a hard stare. 

“And why in all the realms would you want to do such a thing? If I do this, even more Ash Beasts will pour through. You just said how much of an issue they’ve been.”

“True, true. But it’s nothing we can’t handle.” Thaman’s grin had grown until it spread across his whole face. “Especially when we have hundreds of Tournament hopefuls surging through.”

Why would Tournament fighters…

Vir’s eyes widened. “The prelims. You want the Culling to take place in the Ash!”

“You can sense the prana on the other side, can’t you?” Thaman continued. “Tell me, how dangerous is it?”

Vir stared at the portal, looking beyond.

“Not especially,” Vir said with a shrug. “But only for someone like me. For an average demon…”

Thaman laughed. “Good thing there are no average demons participating, eh? I think this will. Yes, I think this will do nicely.”

Vir was beginning to wonder if this giant had a stable head on his shoulders. When he thought of Cirayus and his teachings… Vir came to the inevitable conclusion that Thaman was perhaps not the most sane individual around.

He was a battle junkie, just like Cirayus and Vir’s own father, Maion Garga. That Baira had thrived under Thaman for over a century felt like nothing short of a miracle to him.

“So?” Thaman asked. “Can you stabilize it?”

Vir took in the great Tear once again. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve never tried it with something this large. The prana required would be immense.”

“Will you try?”

Vir turned and stared up at the giant. “Why?”

“Why do I want you to? Or why should you?”

“Cirayus has spoken well of you,” Vir replied, avoiding the giant’s clarifying question for the moment.

“Unusual of him,” Thaman said. “That old fossil only ever dishes out compliments behind people's backs.”

“He also said you wouldn’t help me. Not until I’ve proven myself,” Vir continued. This was his golden opportunity to forge a bond with Thaman. To have the Raja  owe him a favor. He couldn’t afford to let it slip by.

“I’m not giving you Balancer of Scales, boy,” Thaman said. “Not unless I wanted a death wish.”

“What do you mean?” Vir said with a frown. “You’re the Raja. You decide who gets the tattoo, right?”

“Indeed. Because my people trust me. If I gave it to you, of all people, well, I’d have a rebellion on my hands. My clan wouldn’t accept it. The realm wouldn’t accept it.”

“So I have to earn it,” Vir stated. “In full view of all.”

“Do that, and you’ll have your tattoo.” Thaman sighed. “I can’t aid you. Not now. But remember this—I am one who honors my debts. Cirayus will attest to that. And besides, this ought to benefit you as well, yes? You are strong in the Ash. Stronger than the others. It ought to give you an advantage.”

Vir chuckled. Thaman was right, but he’d misunderstood. If Vir needed an advantage to pass the qualifiers, he stood little chance of defeating the stronger opponents without such aid. To say nothing of Cirayus.

“What is it?” Thaman asked.

“When I asked you why, that wasn’t what I meant.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to know why you’re changing the Tournament. Nobody is expecting this. What good will it bring? And what harm?”

Thaman folded his arms and regarded Vir in silence for a long moment.

“I see,” he said. “The Ravager spoke the truth, then. You’d think that after two centuries of knowing the demon, I’d know better than to question his judgement on matters like this. You’ve a good head on your shoulders, boy.”

“Thank you,” Vir said. “And?”

Thaman sighed. “We have far too many contestants this time around. When the realm heard the Ravager was back… Well, to say it piqued our best Warriors interest would be an understatement.”

“I see,” Vir said, glancing at the Ash Tear. “So you need an especially brutal preliminary. Something to cull more than usual. But that’s not it, is it?”

“Oho?” Thaman said. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—what are the chances an Ash Gate suddenly appears near Camar Gadin? And just in time for the Tournament at that?”

“Coincidental, I admit, though such things have occurred in the past.”

“Uh, huh,” Vir said, unconvinced. “The realm may see it that way. They may have their suspicions, but I doubt they’d think anything of it. What of the Rajas, though?”

Thaman’s smile crept back on his face, but this was a different smile. He was amused.

“Go on,” he said.

“They’ll wonder. What if it wasn’t a coincidence? I mean, they have to. It’s what any good ruler would do, I imagine—they’ll look at the worst case scenario.”

“And? What then?” Thaman’s tone was almost playful. He was enjoying this dialogue.

“Well then, they may fantasize. They may believe Raja Thaman has gained a new superweapon—the ability to create Ash Gates.”

“What an interesting presumption,” Thaman said, showing a toothy grin.

Vir felt a grin creep up on his own face. “Earlier, I wondered how your clan has thrived under you. I’d written you off as a battle junkie. I apologize—I have to take that back. You’re wily, Raja Thaman.”

“And you are far too wise for your years, Akh Naara,” Thaman replied. “Well, you’re mostly right. I also wanted to see the look of surprise on that old fossil’s face for once. Figured it’d be a nice homecoming present, don’t you think?”

Vir chuckled. “I suppose he’d like that. Anything to challenge him, however slight.”

“So?” Thaman asked. “What will you do, now that you’ve uncovered my scheme? Will you ask me for Balancer of Scales once again? Will you refuse outright?”

Vir shook his head. “Nothing of the sort. I’m happy to stabilize the Tear.”

“Oho? And may I ask why?”

Vir looked the Raja directly in the eyes. “Because I do not believe this realm can be saved if we look out only for our own interests. If I did, I would be no better than the Chitran who slaughtered my Clan. What I seek is not a transactional relationship between us, Raja Thaman. I wish for something stronger. Something akin to what my father had with you.”

“Is that so?” Thaman said, barely suppressing his glee.

“It is,” Vir said. “I seek friendship. And what are friends for, if not to help each other in their time of need?”

Vir turned toward the Ash Tear. Prana Current cycled, and a vortex of prana surged. Vir closed his eyes and poured every morsel of concentration into the daunting task at hand.

It was why he never saw the look of pride—of melancholy—on Raja Thaman’s face.