63: Vimana Hiranya (Patreon)

NOTE: I'm reducing the amt Vir gains from his Saran trip to 1 silver & 40 coppers. Now, he leaves behind 40 coppers for Maiya, taking the silver. I'm also changing it such that the Life orb Tanya leaves behind in the Godshollow is cracked, and thus is worthless. I felt this would create a more satisfying rags->riches progression vs having him start out loaded. Apologies for the confusion, & drop a comment if you have strong thoughts about this!

“What you have to understand,” Param began, “is that the very name Daha means ‘to blaze brightly’. And indeed, the city certainly lived up to this lofty name long ago.”

“I take it times have changed?” Vir asked, riding alongside the husband and wife. The pace, while slower than what he was used to, suited Bumpy just fine, and made it easy to converse.

“Alas, they certainly have. The capital has seen better days, and that is putting it lightly. The place is a mess. Putrid warrens ring the entire city, surrounding the Grand Moat, and hardly a trace of its former glory still exists.”

Neel, finding the conversation less than interesting, yawned and nodded off from his position behind Vir on Bumpy.

“I’ve heard so much about the downfall of Hiranya,” Vir said, “But no one’s ever said why.”

“That… is a complex matter, but fundamentally, Hiranya’s plight stems from its distance from the Ashen Realm.”

“Because crops don’t grow well, right?” Vir offered.

“Well, yes, but not exactly. Hiranya borders two of the most powerful nations in the Known World. The Altani and the Kin’jal Empire. Both could crush our country at any time, should they choose to.”

Rayali scowled. “Those Kin’jals very well might.”

“Indeed,” Param replied, “and as such, Hiranya requires protection. Our armies cannot hope to defeat the Kin’jal Balarian army.”

“So the Altani protect us?” Vir asked.

“Correct. They have pledged aid to Hiranya should we be attacked. The cost, however, is steep. Every promising mejai is rounded up and sent to the Altani for training at a young age.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Vir asked. If anything, training their mejai would help Hiranya.

“If those mejai ever returned to Hiranya, yes. While nothing stops them, it is no secret that life is far better in the Altani. Doubly true for mejai. They live better than King Rayid over there! Who would ever want to come back after having tasted such sweet fruit?”

So that’s why Apramor didn’t want Maiya to become a mejai. She’d go off to the Altani, never to return.

Vir knew she’d have thrived with the Altani. He couldn’t fault Apramor for wanting to protect his daughter, but the man was depriving her of attaining her full potential. It felt wrong to Vir. And knowing her, she’d never have abandoned her parents like that.

“Hiranya has promised land, wealth, and power to strong mejai who choose to return, but alas, King Rayid’s policies have only had minor effect. And so, our country is bled dry of its most valuable asset—its people, leaving its back broken. With every year that passes, Hiranya grows weaker, while the Altani and the Kin’jals grow stronger.”

That was a pretty lousy situation, Vir recognized. If the king broke the contract, Kin’jal would invade. If he didn’t, Hiranya’s power slowly fell.

“What’s worse, immigration to the Altani is nearly impossible unless you have magical talent. In which case, their borders are wide open and citizenship guaranteed. Mejai from all over the realm flock to the Altani, forcing nations to fiercely guard their borders to prevent this kind of flight.”

“It’s even worse,” Rayali said quietly. “Hiranya is a poor country, and our domestic market is small. We export below average armor and weapons to the Altani for a pittance, undercutting Sai to the north. The Altani enchant this equipment and sell it back to Hiranya for a steep markup.”

“Why does Hiranya need magical equipment? Don’t they have that treaty with the Altani?” Vir asked.

“They couldn’t survive against armies without it,” Param replied. “Enchanted weapons and armor are incomparable to their mundane variants. In some situations, a single enchanted squad can take on an entire company of regular soldiers. The treaty with the Altani only protects Hiranya during a full invasion, after all. The Kin’jals wage countless skirmishes against us at all times.”

It was like the country was being squeezed dry. Vir wondered what he’d find at the capital—Param and Rayali painted quite the grim picture.

For hours, they chatted and gossiped, and Vir quickly learned that once Param got started, he never shut his mouth. Rayali kept flashing Vir apologetic glances.

Vir sympathized with the poor woman. He only had to deal with Param for a day and a half. She had to put up with him forever. Her patience must have been saintly.

The caravan stopped a full two hours before sunset at a spot on the rolling plains. Unlike Riyan’s desert, this area was flat, and was covered with hard, cracked clay, through which bushes and cacti crept. In the distance, the rocky crags of the Dahan steppe were just barely visible. They’d ascend the steppe tomorrow, before making Daha around midday.

Vir felt it wasteful to stop so early until he saw just how much of a production it was to set up camp for a dozen people. Tent sites had to be scouted, cleared, and leveled to make way for the two large tents. Food had to be prepared, and fires made. The men erected the tents while the women began food preparation, and the children handled everything in between. Not one person idled around, and that included Vir.

While he didn’t have a tent to pitch, he still needed to secure his own site. After chatting with Param and Rayali for the better part of the day, he knew they harbored no ill intent, but Vir wasn’t one to take chances.

He cleared a spot of thorny weeds twenty paces away and laid out his blanket. Too tired to start a fire, he opted to dine on nuts and dried berries.

At least, until Param called him over to the group’s camp and invited him to dine with him.

He’d have been a fool to refuse. While they’d technically left the desert, the temperature swings were still quite extreme, and Vir was glad for the fire.

Param’s entire family huddled around it, passing bowls of various dishes around, sharing them communally.

Vir hesitated until Param handed him a bowl full of skewered veggies, then shrugged and slipped onto his plate. The vegetables were complimented by a large heaping of spiced brown rice and pickled, salted lemons. Though the flavors differed greatly from what Maiya usually cooked up, Vir relished the food. Even with all the kids staring at him the entire time.

At least they don’t run away when I wave to them anymore. Progress, I guess?

Maiya would no doubt have been swarmed by them. She was popular no matter where she went.

Neel, of course, took to the children instantly. He’d played with them for hours.

Vir felt he could hardly be blamed. He’d never once been included in any group for as long as he could remember. He’d always been alone, ostracized, shunned.

Vir was learning how good it felt to belong. And now that he’d tasted this forbidden fruit, he didn’t think he could ever go back to being an outcast.

If Riyan hadn’t shown me the ways of makeup and deception…

He shuddered. He didn’t even want to think about that.

Param’s dam of a mouth opened up again, spilling unending torrents of words—a small portion of which was actually relevant.

Vir learned that his youngest daughter loved Saranian fried sugar sweets, and that they were second generation merchants who’d emigrated to Daha from the northern Hiranyan town of Bram.

“What about Hiranya’s royalty?” Vir asked, hoping for any info that might help him. “I’ve heard a lot of things about the third princess, Mina Hiranya.”

“Princess Mina, eh?” Param said, stroking his beard. “She’s almost as famous as her elder brother.”

“I for one think she’d make a fine queen,” Rayali said. “So what if her strength comes from magic? There is no rule that says our monarchs must all be Talent wielders!”

“Mmm, yes, Mina would make for a capable ruler, but she is third in line to the throne. First prince Sanobar is proving to be incredibly capable. He takes after King Rayid. I do not believe Mina will get her chance unless tragedy should befall her siblings.”

Vir wondered whether they were talking about different people. Their impression of the princess was practically the opposite of Riyan’s take. Whose story was correct? Vir didn’t know which to believe.

While the man wanted to continue talking late into the night, his wife thankfully put a stop to things, allowing Vir to retire under a starry sky.

Wrapping his hands in cloth, he took some hot rocks from the fire and placed them inside his blanket on either side, ensuring he’d stay warm through the cold, breezy night alongside Neel.

In true Vir fashion, he didn’t go to sleep right away. Instead, he snuck away and did what he’d been doing most nights for the past several months—work on his Talents. His Ash affinity magic.

There were two Talents Vir desperately wanted. Talents that had proven illusive. Empower and Blade Projection. The former infused his attacks with prana, giving them superhuman speed and power. Helpful for kicks and punches, but downright devastating when paired with a bladed weapon.

The latter was like a holy artifact for him. His katar was a maneuverable weapon that suited him perfectly, but its primary weakness was its reach—just slightly longer than a dagger’s. Blade Projection would solve that problem by extending the reach of his weapon with prana. What’s more—the attack would be deadlier than steel.

But no matter how much he’d banged his head against the trunk of this Godhollow, it refused to yield. Once prana left his body, he lost control of it, and nothing he ever did seemed to change that.

It wasn’t like he could simply give up and pursue some other Talent either. Many required far more prana than what the meager Ash affinity in the ground could provide. Ash was far more potent than regular affinities, yes, but that only made up for its scarcity to a degree.

Which had led him to an inevitable realization—most warriors grew stronger by acquiring more powerful Talents. Vir would grow by perfecting the ones he could use with the limited Ash prana.

To that end, he’d recently discovered that the prana he’d been sucking up from the ground wasn’t all used to power his Talents. Only a small portion of it was, with the rest being absorbed by his body or leaked into the air.

He was incredibly inefficient with his Talent invocations, but rectifying this was easier said than done. Through endless trial and experimentation, Vir had learned that certain muscle groups responded more to certain Talents than others, and that injecting prana into one muscle might yield double the effect as another.

What he hadn’t accounted for were the staggering number of muscles and blood pathways through the body. In order to get prana to the right muscles, he needed to control that prana to an extremely fine degree.

That was the hardest part. Being able to direct prana flows to different destinations within his body in differing amounts proved to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Progress had slowed to a crawl, frustrating him.

Tonight, he wanted a distraction from his prana flow training. Something that would actually make him feel like he was making some progress.

Vir began his practice. He sucked the prana from his foot up into his leg, creating a suction effect that pulled Ash prana from the ground.

Then, timing himself perfectly, he lifted his leg and kicked, willing the prana stored inside to explode.

He almost managed not to fall over.

This was the biggest issue with Empower. Sucking in the prana was easy—it worked like Leap that way. But where Leap didn’t insist on finesse, Empower demanded it, or he’d throw himself off balance. Both the timing and the amount of power had to be exact or the ability wouldn’t work.

After months of practice, Vir was getting the hang of it… when training. In actual combat, it was still too unpredictable to use. According to Riyan, this Talent took most people years to perfect, so the fact that he had almost mastered it in months should be celebrated.

And yet, he wanted more. He always wanted more.

Vir practiced for another half hour until the Ash prana in the area ran dry, forcing him to call it a night and head back to bed.

It had been a long day, so he was out the moment he snuggled in next to Neel.

Param didn’t even ask him to keep watch; the man’s caravan had enough guards to handle that. It was a courtesy Vir truly appreciated, but it left him feeling bad about accepting coin while doing nothing in return.

Morning started early the next day. Soon, they’d torn down the camp and headed out, seeking the shelter of Daha’s shaded streets before the desert heat peaked.

As they approached, Vir learned more about the city’s organization. The vast majority of its residents lived either in the Warrens—the slums that surrounded the city—or the Commons, where most commoners lived. Only the Sawai could enter the District of Internal Affairs, and the Royal Grounds were off limits to all without an invitation.

Forget getting to the castle. Even the District of Internal Affairs seemed nearly impossible to gain access to. Legally. Dance of the Shadow Demon afforded several options, but he’d have to inspect the area with his own eyes before forming a plan.

He could hardly contain himself; the sooner he contacted the princess, the sooner he could start searching for Maiya.

The caravan slowed as they ascended a series of switchbacks that led up to the Dahan Steppe from the west. The Ash’va worked hard to carry the heavy loads, and Bumpy was no exception.

With some tender coaxing and treats of hay, Bumpy the Brave made it up, panting and sweating. Vir made a note to stable him at a premium spot, as thanks for his effort.

Slowly, the western edge of the city came into view, but it was as if Vir was looking at a mirage on the desert. The city looked… strange to his eyes, surrounded by a myriad of dark rocks. Something was off, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on what, exactly.

As they crept closer, the dark rocks revealed themselves to be ramshackle wooden homes. Shacks, really. And not just a few dozen. Hundreds of these buildings butted up against each other, as if squashed. Some looked as though they’d collapse with a stiff wind.

In fact, a few had collapsed. In some places, only piles of wood showed that an abode once used to occupy that space. Vir only hoped no one was inside when it did.

When he saw how many people thronged the streets, packed like the slaves on Bakura’s ship, he doubted that was the case.

The familiar smells of unwashed humans and bodily fluids permeated the air, punctuated by Ash’va dung.

Vir pinched his nose as Param ordered the caravan to speed up. Whether it was because of the stench, or whether the man was worried about being mugged, Vir didn’t care. This squalor was far worse than even the slums of Saran.

Param was right. This is tragic…

And then, the moment they penetrated through the slums, Vir forgot it all.

A presence had detected him, focusing its godlike will upon him. Vir had never felt anything like it before. He felt stifled, though nothing physical was amiss.

It came from above.

Vir pointed to the sky, his mouth agape, eyes as wide as Grade A orbs. “W-w-w-what!?”

“Come again?” Param said.

“What is that!?”

The merchant followed his gaze to the palace that floated above the capital, casting it in eternal shadow.

“Friend, I find it hard to believe that you do not know. Have you never heard of the Vimana Hiranya? The mythological floating palace of the gods?”

Vimana:

Map of Daha: