128: Balindam (Patreon)

Balindam was… not what Vir expected. Not at all. In fact, he was half-convinced the pilot had lied, and that he’d fallen prey to some elaborate trap.

The only ability he could use in the air was Prana Blade, but Vir doubted he needed any Talents against the pilot; he lacked affinities of any kind. Then again, even if he did incapacitate the pilot, Vir didn’t have any faith he could fly the Acira himself.

Yet there was no doubt they were in the Voidlands. The air, which usually abounded with Wind, Water, and a smattering of other prana, was now a barren void. Prana Vision showed not even the tiniest morsel of prana, and Vir thought the ability might’ve malfunctioned somehow. A quick glance at his own body and the Acira he rode told him otherwise.

Not that the pilot was prana scorned; the air had sucked it all out of him, much as it had to Vir during his village days.

Long ago, Vir had mastered the ability to contain his own prana, preventing it from leaking out. He’d mastered it to such a degree that it had become subconscious. And yet, he now found himself having to concentrate on keeping his prana locked within his body. Ash prana was nonexistent in the air everywhere in the Known World, but somehow, the prana in his body was being sucked out faster than usual.

Vir glanced down at the city below him. He’d expected slums like the Warrens that surrounded Daha. Possibly even worse. A city run by barbarians and savages, where the law of the jungle ruled.

Instead, he found a city that rivaled Avi in its beauty. In fact, its design appeared carefully manicured to look beautiful when viewed from the air. Its walls, though not as tall or as wide as Sonam’s, were well maintained and formed a complex geometric shape that pleased the eye.

While the city bordered the Runean Ocean to the west, a moat fed by the sea water followed the lines of the city walls all the way around the city, cutting sharply inland. Directly inside those walls was a stretch of green that ran the perimeter of the city.

As they descended, Vir realized it was a garden. The largest Vir had ever seen and carefully manicured.

An inner set of walls separated the main area of the city from what appeared to be the aristocratic district, where the buildings were larger and less dense. Finally, the castle sat within its own set of walls inside that smaller district.

Each set of walls was geometric, and slotted into place perfectly, as if an artist had shaped them to please the eye. Nevertheless, the city was highly defensible. The walls, while not nearly as high or as thick as Daha’s, didn’t need to be. Without magic to worry about, only archers and siege weapons could be used, and the moat that defended the city would hamper those efforts significantly.

Only the port town southwest  of the city, and the fields that lay east of it, would be vulnerable.

Seems like a protracted siege would be the way to go, Vir idly thought, unsure why he was even considering an invasion. Yet even a siege would have to deal with the fact that the city bordered the ocean. They’d need a naval blockade to prevent supplies from entering the city.

The pilot dropped the Acira even lower, and Vir found not a maze of dirt paths, but orderly cobblestone roads arranged in a grid-like pattern. Not even Avi was this organized with its city planning.

As the Acira slowed and the winds died down, the pilot spoke for the first time in hours. “Welcome to Balindam, friend. The crown jewel of the Pagan Order.”

“It’s… honestly not what I expected.”

The pilot turned and smirked. “Thought you’d find a city full of crime and grime, did you?”

“I, er…”

“Good! Tis the image we want, after all.” The pilot caught Vir staring at the immense garden that lay just within the walls. “Ah, the Green Ring. Few other cities boast such a garden, I think. I invite you to tour it! The Green Ring West is especially tranquil. I often wander there just to listen to the sound of crashing waves. The view atop the Promontory is something to behold.”

With every detail, Vir grew more and more confused. What was the Pagan Order, really? Crazed demon hunters? Or something else? Even if they maintained a facade over the true glory of their city, they couldn’t do the same for their demon hunting. Vir hoped to uncover the truth while he was here.

The Acira flew directly into the Castle Grounds, whose gardens were even more well manicured than the Green Ring. For a country that lay in a prana-starved land where crops and plants could hardly grow, the amount of greenery staggered Vir. It spoke volumes about the Order’s level of sophistication and power, more than any gilded buildings ever could.

It wasn’t just the level of sophistication that impressed him. The sheer size of the city seemed unfathomable to Vir. Forget Daha. It was even larger than Avi. To think so many people would make their homes in such a prana-devoid region… Then again, the city’s opulence and sophistication might very well have offset any inconvenience brought by the total lack of magic.

The Acira slowed to hover above a circular set of walls that adjoined the castle. Unlike most of the castle, however, this area was open to the air, allowing the Acira to set down softly next to its brothers and sisters that wandered on the lush grass that blanketed the ground.

Neel hopped off first, keeping a wary eye on the black-scaled beasts that eyed him inquisitively.

Vir let out a breath after alighting from the beast. While the ground prana density here was lower than usual, it wasn’t devoid of Ash prana. He’d have to ration his Talent usage, but he could use them here.

An attendant dressed in the Pagan Order’s signature white-and-black colors approached to greet them.

“Welcome to our humble capital, esteemed guest,” the tall, spindly man said with a self-deprecating smile. He was both clean-shaven and bald, and Vir wondered whether that was the popular style in Balindam. “You must be quite tired after your long journey. Would you like me to show you to your temporary quarters? We’ve arranged a tour of the city before your meeting with Lord Reth later this evening.”

Lord Reth, huh? The infamous ruler of the Pagan Order. Supposedly, he was the one who’d promoted the Order’s fanatical demon hunting policies.

“Sorry, temporary quarters? What do you mean?” Vir replied.

“A slip of the tongue,” the man said, smiling awkwardly. “Please, follow me.”

Vir allowed the man to lead him through the castle’s halls. While it lacked the domes and arches of Daha’s palace, the structure was overall quite similar. Rectangular stone hallways led to courtyards and rooms of various sizes, with a myriad of doors on either side.

Size-wise, Balindam’s castle was undoubtedly larger than Daha’s palace, though it lacked the intricate carvings and the gold. This was a fortress, pure and simple. It did nothing to hide that.

Vir’s third-floor room was one among many doors embedded into the side of the hall. Without the number carved into the stone on top, he was sure he’d never find it again. A small, simple affair, it contained a comfortable-looking bed, a simple wooden table and chair, a mirror, and a window overlooking the courtyard.

“Please take your time. I shall be back in an hour to guide you around our city.”

With a bow, the attendant departed, leaving Vir and Neel alone.

“Well, boy? What do you think?”

Awoo? Neel replied, tilting his head up at Vir. No doubt the Bandy had food on his mind. Vir brought out a few pieces of dried apricot and tossed them at his friend, who snatched them out of the air with incredible dexterity before munching contentedly on the snack.

The level of hospitality should have made him feel at ease, but it had the opposite effect. They were treating him well. Too well. Nobody would give a random mercenary such a warm welcome.

Which means they know something about me… but what? That he assassinated Ravin in Daha? Or perhaps that he attempted to kill princess Mina? But unless the Brotherhood had blabbed—something he doubted they would do—how could they know?

Vir threw open the wooden louvers covering the window and breathed in the fresh outside air. It helped him clear his mind; there was little point worrying about hypotheticals. All he could do was maintain his vigilance and gather as much information as he could. The rest, he’d have to leave to Fate.

“Only question is… do I scout the castle? Or should I stay here?” he muttered. To do reconnaissance, he’d need to leverage Dance. But using up the prana prematurely sounded wasteful.

Instead, he brought out some ink and paper—an upgrade from the charcoal and parchment he used to use—and mapped out the hallways and courtyards he’d seen on the way here. Though it was just a partial picture, it’d still help if he ever needed to retrace his steps to the Acira. Perhaps he could steal one if the contract went south, though the issue of knowing how to ride them remained.

The hour passed quickly, and the same bald attendant returned to lead Vir and Neel to the Royal Grounds.

“We take great pride in our gardens here at Balindam, and nowhere is this more true than the castle gardens. I doubt even the Ranian gardens hold a candle to our own.”

Vir hadn’t ever seen Rani’s gardens, but he had seen Daha’s. It wasn’t even a comparison. While Daha’s garden was large, there was simply no taste to the plants there. It was as if shrubs and plants had been planted for the sake of having them there.

But here? Each hedge had been trimmed into elaborate shapes, and flowering plants placed carefully to complement them. The gardeners had even transformed one bush to look like an Ash’va, complete with pink roses for its snout, and long leaves for its ears.

Wonder how Bumpy would react if he could see this. Would he be happy? Or would he grow confused at the bizarre likeness to his brothers and sisters?

The path through the grounds wound in such a way that it passed by several attractions. From a series of small waterfalls that fed a pond filled with multicolored fish, to a rose garden, and even trellis-covered arch walkway that looked like it was from another planet, the gardens left a lasting impression upon Vir.

Little did he know that was only the beginning. From there, they mounted up on two Ash’va and left the gates to the next part of the city.

“Balindam’s Strong Quarter is where the wealthier citizens reside,” his guide said as they trotted down the immaculate cobblestone road.

“The Sawai, you mean?”

The man shook his head. “No, the Pagan Order does not use the feudal system so popular in other kingdoms. There are no knights here. No lords who own and maintain land. The entire country is run and owned by the government. Residency in the Strong Quarter is available to all who can afford it.”

“So everyone’s a commoner, then?”

“One could say that,” his guide said with a smile. “But we prefer to call them citizens. Equals. No matter how poor or rich, all have the same rights here.”

That actually sounds pretty nice.

“That only applies to humans, though. Right?” Vir ventured. “What of demons?”

“I think Lord Reth would be better suited to answering those questions,” his guide said. Though he wore a smile, it was a strained one.

Definitely a hot topic around here.

From the Strong Quarter, they rode to the Promontory, west of the castle, passing a small market. In Daha, the Commons had been dirty, crowded, and bleak, while Avi was clean and colorful.

Balindam sat in the middle. Though its buildings weren’t painted in bright colors, preferring either natural stone colorations, its roads were clean and orderly, and even the foot traffic seemed to obey a stricter set of laws than Avians or Dahans did. Despite the population, their unspoken rules ensured that no collisions or traffic jams occurred, and Vir mirrored his guide’s movements to avoid breaking them.

They passed a number of open-air stalls along the way, with merchants politely hawking all manner of goods.

Many vegetables and fruits were smaller and less colorful than the prana-enriched ones he’d grown accustomed to, but there were bigger, plumper ones on sale as well, though they commanded a higher price.

“How do you get all this? Aren’t you, er… isolated from the rest of the Known World?” No one wanted to do business with the Order, but Vir thought it prudent not to bring that up.

“We trade aggressively with the Rani Queendom, who in turn trades with the rest of the world. We can get nearly anything from anywhere for those willing to pay. For everyone else, while our own produce may not quite compare, one grows used to it.”

They continued to work their way through the crowd, passing armorers and blacksmiths, whose wares didn’t impress Vir. Not one magical item was for sale, and the steel he saw—while not poor—was nothing special.

What did catch his eye was the vast assortment of balms, salves, bandages, poultices, and who-knew-what-else available for purchase.

“Do you mind if we stop for a moment?” Vir asked, approaching a medicinal stall.

His guide nodded, bowing his head slightly. “As you wish, friend.”

“Welcome, dearest,” an elderly woman said, smiling. “How may I help you today?”

“I’ve used salves and balms, but I’ve never seen such a variety. What is this stuff? What does it all do?”

“We’ve had to make do with what we have, dear. Here, you’ll find many remedies not known to the rest of the world. It’s a point of pride, if I do say so myself. Down with the flu? This ointment will fix you right up! Break a bone? This salve will heal you straight away!”

Vir’s eyes narrowed. “Truly? That sounds… unlikely. If it works so well, why wouldn’t the rest of the Known World use them?”

“Ahem,” his guide said, clearing his throat. “Our herbal remedies do function in lieu of magic, however, I’m afraid this fine lady might be overselling their efficacy.”

Vir smirked. Of course she was.

Even so, she did have a variety of herbs and salves that Vir used, of which he was always in short supply. Most stores only carried the bare minimum, since magic worked so much better. To Vir, a place like this was a treasure trove, so he stocked up, and even bought a few tinctures and theriacs the woman claimed to counteract poisons. Of course, he corroborated with his guide before making any purchases. The wily old lady could lie without batting an eye.

“A most impressive view, wouldn’t you say?” his guide asked, his chest full of pride. They’d just left the market and had arrived at the Promontory, which boasted sweeping views of much of the city and the ocean beyond.

It was no deception. Vir got the sense the man was genuinely proud of his city. And from what he’d seen so far, he had every reason to be. The discrepancy between the Pagan Order’s public image and reality was still something he couldn’t get over. He feared there was more to this act than met the eye.

They stood at a grassy park at the peak of the Promontory hill. From here, the city sloped down around them, offering an unobstructed vista of the western wall and the endless Runean Ocean that stretched to the horizon, broken only by the silhouettes of ships, their white sails full of wind. Bordering the wall was the storied Green Ring he’d seen from the air. It appeared even more impressive from up close, and he couldn’t wait to explore it.

Several families and couples lay on the grass, enjoying the view or just making small talk. Over half had clean-shaven heads, and that went for men and women alike. Vir couldn’t say he approved of that fashion style, but it was certainly distinctive.

Their next stop was the Green Ring itself. Several cobblestone paths had been paid out, though these stones were far smaller and were arranged closer together than the ones on the main roads. As if made for foot traffic, rather than Ash’va and wagons.

It was like a vast park that circled the whole city. Here again, Balindamites sat on the many benches placed all around the Ring, with small ponds and fountains of water dotting the landscape. The sound of crashing waves completed the idyllic scenery, and after an hour of trotting along the Ring, Vir concluded the city was even prettier than Avi; a feat he’d thought impossible just a day earlier.

By the time they returned to the castle after crossing through the Grand Plaza—a place brimming with vendors selling everything from healing balms Vir had never seen before to exotic foods—Vir was well and truly exhausted. The sun had just set, casting the ocean and the city in a gorgeous amber glow, plunging the city into darkness. Though its denizens lit candles and lanterns where they could, it failed to compare to the myriad of Magic Lamps that bathed Avi and Daha at night.

As he’d just learned, Balindamites did many things differently to cope with the lack of magic. They weren’t backward, per se. Just that their technology varied drastically from the rest of the world. As one who couldn’t use magic, Vir itched to learn more about their medical technology, but that would have to wait.

Lord Reth was ready to see him. His guide led him straight to the audience hall’s great double doors, in front of which a half dozen warriors in full plate stood like statues.

“I’m afraid I will not be following you into the audience chamber,” his guide said, backing away with a bow. “I wish you the best, and I hope your stay in our city is a pleasant one.”

With a deep breath, and Neel in tow, Vir stepped forth into the audience chamber, fearing the details of his assassination contract.

From the moment he’d entered the city, he’d suspected this was a trap. A ruse to lure him into the enemy’s den. Little did he know that the events about to unfold would change his life forever. And not in the way he’d ever dreamed.