134: Raiders of the Night (Patreon)

NOTE: Now that the $10 tier is at 35 chapters ahead of RR, all tiers gain more chapters. The $5 tier goes up to 8 chapters, from 5, and the $10 tier goes up to 18, from 15. Enjoy!

- -
Vir awaited his summons for the raid by meditating cross-legged in the subterranean room the Pagan Order had given him. His room. One that would remain his possession, even if he left.

Come to think of it, I haven’t had a place to call my own ever since Brij…

He was just a temporary visitor at Riyan’s abode, and since then, he’d either slept in inns, or under starlight. Now that he thought about it, he understood how much he missed having a home. It wasn’t just the home itself; it was the people, too.

Vir had spent the past day exploring both the Undercity with Badal, and the Upper City with Spear’s Edge. True to their word, they hadn’t pried anymore about his upcoming mission. They’d visited merchants, parks, pubs, and had even watched a play put on by local actors.

In that time, Badal filled him in on how the Undercity society operated. All demons living there were given a small stipend of food. Enough to subsist on, but not much more. Gainful employment was expected of all demons, though no restrictions were placed on what jobs anyone could take on. Overall, it sounded quite idyllic to Vir. Brij never had a stipend like that—if you couldn’t feed yourself, you’d starve.

All the touring had left him exhausted, and he was glad to return to his room to relish his time alone. It allowed him an opportunity to consider his own abilities and advancement, which he’d neglected due to all the goings-on. If he was honest, he missed the days of training with Riyan, each day focused solely on strengthening his body, tempering his mind, and delving into the mysteries of prana.

As he’d soon found out, though, progress with prana grew more and more difficult the more proficient he became. The breakthroughs came rarely these days; a fact that irked him.

The best leads he had so far were Parai the Ancient and Narak the Destroyer’s visions.

For the longest time, Vir had wondered how to attain the effects Narak achieved with Balancer of Scales—manipulating the weight of objects—without his tattoo, but came up short every time. Whatever those tattoos were, they gave the wearer abilities beyond anything that could be accomplished by mere prana manipulation. Of that, Vir was sure.

Prana Blade, Blade Projection, Blade Launch… these were all things that weaponized prana itself, and were relatively straightforward. But Balancer of Scales affected physical objects. Even objects at a distance.

It really works like orb magic, doesn’t it?

Vir shook his head. He’d been down that line of reasoning many times, and it always ended in a wall. There was nothing to be gained by banging his head against it.

Instead, he turned his thoughts to Parai’s cycling technique. Even now, he kept the technique active, though apart from boosting his recovery time, he wasn’t sure what else it did. And even its ability to accelerate his healing process was really just a matter of increasing the amount of blood that circulated around his back, just via an unconventional pathway.

There wasn’t anything there that leveraged the prana itself, though Vir knew Parai had several other circulation paths as well. He’d seen how his ancestor’s techniques sucked in prana from the surroundings, gluing it to his body like armor.

As always, however, the issue was how to safely experiment with those. Done incorrectly, Vir would rupture blood vessels, cause internal bleeding, and very possibly kill himself.

On the other hand, playing around with small amounts of blood did little to help him learn—he’d been experimenting with that ever since he left Riyan’s abode.

Parai’s body had felt like a raging river, with prana surging through his body. Vir had thought himself proficient with prana manipulation, but after seeing Parai, he now understood he was just an amateur. His prana felt like a gummed up dam—full of prana, but one that refused to flow.

Then there was the Pagan Order’s non-magical lighting, where Lightning prana flowed at unbelievable speed, decoupled from its carrier object—in this case, metal. Electricity, they’d called it.

This differed starkly from how mejai used prana. They formed a suction to pull ambient affinity prana into their orbs, which trapped it to power spells. Prana manipulation didn’t even seem to be part of their training regimen.

Or perhaps it was… but only at the higher ranks?

Right as Vir began to grow frustrated at his lack of progress, he heard a series of knocks on his room’s door.

Neel, who’d been sleeping on the floor, immediately perked up and ran to the door, looking up expectantly at Vir.

“Sorry, boy. You’re gonna have to sit this one out. No telling how dangerous this will be, and we’ll need to be stealthy.”

Neel tilted his head at Vir, prompting a sad smile.

Vir opened the door to find Badal waiting for him, dressed in a robe that was as black as the night.

“It is time.”

Vir nodded. “I’ll just grab my weapons.”

“You are sure you want to do this?” Badal asked. “I will not lie to you, Vir. You are the lynchpin in today’s plan. With your powers, we will find the prisoners faster, and with less blood spilled. But this will be a great risk to you.”

“I’m sure,” he replied, staring Badal in the eyes. “I want to help them.”

“Understood. I shall question your resolve no more. Forgive me.”

“Thanks. Truly.”

Vir cinched down his greaves and bracers, donned his cuirass, collected his katar, slung his chakrams around his neck, and wore his chakris as bracelets. He gave Neel one last I’m sorry look before shutting the door behind him.

“There will be forty of us on this raid, twenty pilots flying twenty Acira, and twenty raiders,” Badal said as they proceeded down the tunnel. “Each Acira can carry five, including the pilot. Enough for all fifty of our brothers and sisters.”

Vir nearly balked at that figure. Twenty Acira was an incredible force. He wondered why they needed so many to rescue fifty  prisoners, but realized it was optimistic to assume all Acira would be filled to capacity. Depending on how heavily defended their prison was, it was possible they’d have to take off before they were full. Having excess not only allowed them a larger raid force, but also gave them a margin of security.

It sounded like a well thought-out cooperation. A fact that was corroborated when Vir finally emerged through the maze of tunnels, leading to a ladder that led back up to the surface. Right into the castle’s Acira berths.

Vir wasn’t sure which was more impressive—the sight of twenty Acira lined up in a perfect square grid, their black wings glinting off the moonlight—or the squads of demons beside them, all dressed in identical black robes.

This was military might the likes of which Vir had never seen from Hiranya. Only the Altani’s skyships invoked such a sense of professionalism and power within him.

The training and upkeep costs, the fact that most of the warriors wielded seric weapons… It spoke not only to the depth of the Pagan Order’s treasury, but to the high degree of competence with which it was run.

Projecting such a force well away from their own borders did not come easily.

They’re elites. They’ve done this before. Many times.

Vir immediately understood that despite their lack of prana, these warriors were not to be underestimated. All boasted Talents, and their prana-starved bodies made their abilities more potent, drawing a stronger suction from the prana in the Earth.

As Vir scanned the disguised faces of his brothers and sisters, he saw neither fear nor excitement. Only cool, composed determination to complete the mission and bring everyone home. This was a group of veterans. Like him, each wore face paint, sporting the tan shades of the Kin’jals, and unless Vir knew they were demons, he’d never have guessed.

It was a secret force that the world knew nothing about. A force that wasn’t supposed to exist.

Vir swelled with pride as he nodded to each in turn.

“You must be our guest of honor. We’ll be counting on you this night,” a demon said, grasping his forearm in what Vir had learned was a kind of ‘demonic handshake.’ “Fare well, brother.”

“And you,” Vir replied, genuinely wishing the man well, despite never having met him before.

He’d known the Order for only a handful of days, and yet he already felt more at ease than he ever had around Tia and Spear’s Edge. Because, though they all wore disguises, these were his people. Individuals who recognized him and accepted him for who he truly was.

Vir boarded an Acira with Badal at the head of the flight. Their pilot shot his finger up into the air, and without even a word between the squads, they took to the sky, ripping the silent air with the beating of scaled wings.

The dust swirled around them, as the Acira built more and more force. Then they lurched into the air, clearing the tall castle walls in seconds.

Aciras took off one by one, with each avian creature slotting seamlessly into its position. Before long, they’d organized into a Delta V formation, tearing across Balindam as they climbed ever higher.

Each aerial turn was executed in perfect synchronization, as if performed by master acrobats.

The night wind swept past their faces, and before long, they’d crossed the South Legion Mountains, flying over Ranian airspace. It made Vir wonder whether Rani knew of the Order’s operations. He figured they must know, and that they were implicitly alright with it. He guessed the Order ran these sorts of raids regularly.

As the minutes turned into hours and Rani’s lush valleys and forests fell away beneath them, a feeling grew within Vir.

I could see myself among their ranks, he thought. What if he joined the Order? Working with them to build a home for demons? I might be able to make a real difference here…

It was a thought he’d had several times over the past day. Though regardless of what came after, he had to survive this mission first. Not just survive—he had to bring those demons home.

Badal had briefed him earlier on the layout of the place, since conversation in-flight was difficult with all the wind. The prisoners were kept in a structure built like a castle, out in the middle of the Kin’jal countryside within the Eternal Plains. They’d hover in a circling pattern high above while Vir and Badal landed in open fields near the structure.

While all the demons on this raid wielded Talents, Vir doubted any would be faster than him into the complex. Which was why he’d volunteered to scout for them.

He’d Dance inside, locate the exact location of the prisoners, and report back. The remaining Acira would then land, dropping the troops off before taking to the sky again, and the raid would begin.

At least, that was how it was supposed to go. But Vir knew from experience that these plans rarely ever went as expected.

“See those mountains?” Badal shouted, pointing down to the snowcapped peaks that blurred beneath them. The Bulwarks. We just crossed into Kin’jal territory. “Five minutes until we descend!”

Vir took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”