166: The One Who Makes Whole (Patreon)

NOTE: Thanks everyone for your feedback re: the arc 4 tia scene rewrites! Consensus so far is that people are liking it better than the original :-)

Wanted to extend a HUGE thank you to patron Doogolas for his contribution, spending hours theorycrafting with me, and then several more hours editing the prose literally as I wrote it. He must've put in at least a dozen hours of his own time working on this with me, and it's no exaggeration to say it couldn't have happened without him. Thanks Doog!

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“This is somewhat problematic,” Cirayus remarked, lying prone as he gazed at the creatures that swarmed in the distance.

“You’re sure this is the right place?” Vir asked from beside him, growing concerned at the demon’s tone. Until now, only the wyrm had fazed the warrior. Cirayus hadn’t shown a hint of worry as they wandered through the Ash, lost. Nor had he worried even after a week had passed in this way.

Vir, on the other hand, had worried. Quite a bit.

Lingering near the edge of the Ash had allowed him time to acclimate, yes, but restlessness had steadily built in his chest. A month had now passed in the Human Realm.

I could progress so much faster if we only ventured a little deeper.

Vir’s body had grown used to the surrounding prana density, and despite endless hours of casting Talents to expand his blood’s prana capacity, the gains had slowed down so much, he wondered if it was a pointless exercise. Meanwhile, Maiya’s time raced ahead.

Yet while Vir was ready to delve deeper, Cirayus was not. He refused to venture any further until he’d found the Artifact he’d hidden. It had taken several more days for Cirayus to locate enough landmarks to finally know where to go.

The moment came as a relief to Vir, though the giant demon seemed as uncaring about their predicament as he’d been on the day they’d stepped into the Ash.

“A few days or a few weeks, what does it matter in the end?” he’d said.

It wasn’t so much the hours of silent travel that bothered him, as it was the apocalyptic scenery. The jagged peaks and blighted forests, the endless lightning storms that scorched the skies, and of course, the ash. It got into backpacks, clothes, lungs—everything—that was what got to him.

This was a place of death. A realm into which no mortal should ever set foot. It wasn’t built for them. It was built for hardier things, the sort of which terrorized nightmares. There were no man-made structures, no cities, no people, nor even points of reference Vir could use to pinpoint his location.

In fact, the Ashen Realm was far emptier than he’d originally imagined. The stories spoke amply of terrifying beasts, and while they existed, there was so much land that Ash Beast sightings were rare. Even the weaker, more populous ones.

The terrain just kept going, forever in all directions. Or so it had seemed to Vir until Cirayus had guided them to this spot. An enormous rock cavern jutted out from the otherwise-flat plains, like the maw of a shark that had been frozen in time. The den of some ancient Ash Beast.

Except, there was no beast. In its place was a skeleton, nearly buried by the ash. And there were several hundred… things, lumbering around.

Humanoid figures, except demented—their limbs all the wrong size. There was no uniformity to their deformations, either. One had a thick right arm twice as large as it ought to be, but its left arm was completely normal.

One had an upper body which was more or less normal, but their legs were strangely oversized. To where Vir wondered if someone had cut off a giant’s legs and sewn it onto a human.

Most had finger and toenails that grew several paces long, and Vir wondered how they hadn’t broken off long ago.

“Can I ask you a favor, lad?” Cirayus asked, his voice tinged with hesitation. It was incredibly unlike the normally confident demeanor.

“You want me to go scout those things out, don’t you?”

“Aye. I am many things, but subtle is not one of them. I fear I’d be discovered the moment we drew close. You, however, seem built for it.”

“I can spy on them with Dance of the Shadow Demon. Unless they can use it too…”

Vir had grown so confident about the security of the Shadow Realm, the thought of anyone intruding terrified him.

Cirayus waved his concern away. “Only Iksana Ghaels bearing the bloodline tattoo can wield it. I know not how you managed even a limited version of the ability without it, but I doubt anyone other than an incarnation of the Akh Nara could pull that off. Luckily, that title belongs to you, and you alone. Unless, of course, you die and reincarnate.”

“Of course.” Vir rolled his eyes. “I’ll see what I can do, but they’re too far right now. I need to get closer before I can spy on them. Twenty paces is about all I can manage.”

Cirayus fell silent, stroking his long, black beard. “Hmm. Well, lad? What would you recommend?”

Vir frowned. “We know nothing of these enemies. Did they kill the beast that lived here? Or did they just move in after it died? We should err on the side of caution.”

“Meaning?”

“We wait. And observe.”

“Agreed, lad. Good decision.”

Vir noticed Cirayus was a big fan of waiting. Whether searching for landmarks or foraging for food, the demon’s patience seemed bottomless.

Then again, he’s lived for centuries. What’s a day, or even a month for someone like that?

Having barely lived sixteen, it was a thought Vir could hardly process.

And so they waited. Minutes became hours, which turned into a whole day. In all that time, the creatures continued to shamble around, groaning and occasionally bumping into each other. They fell over often, and sometimes took minutes to right themselves.

They looked weak, but Vir knew better than to believe that. If they were weak, they’d have died long ago. Anything that survived in this realm was highly lethal. To assume otherwise was a good way to die.

Still… does it warrant a whole day of observation? Vir itched for a fight. Cirayus had been so preoccupied with finding his bearings, Vir hadn’t gotten to fight a single beast the past week. His improved blood prana capacity remained untested. Sometimes, he’d turn off the layer of saturated prana near his skin to revel in the feeling of unbridled vitality.

When fully saturated, he felt like he could could tank Wind Blades. Of course, Talents became less effective in this state, forcing him to pull prana from his limbs in the same manner he’d done in the Human Realm. He had more options here, so reverting to his old technique was suboptimal. It took more time, and forced him to route prana up from the ground.

Luckily, he didn’t have to choose. In the past week, Vir’s prana control had grown even better. When not actively using Talents, Vir could now saturate individual limbs with prana to boost his natural strength. When coupled with the efficiency and strength gains bestowed by Parai’s Prana Channeling, his regular movements looked as though he used Micro Leap.

Before long, Vir’s attention lapsed, and his eyes grew heavy. As the ‘days’ revolved around his fatigue, he tended to stay up longer and sleep less than he’d done in the Human Realm.

At least the soft ash makes for a somewhat comfortable bed, even if it does get in everything.

They’d been observing nonstop, and the demon didn’t look like he had any intention of stopping.

Cirayus, it seemed, never got tired. Nor did he ever rest, that Vir could tell. Either that, or the demon slept with his eyes open. Which, he concluded, was a distinct possibility.

“Tell me about the Garga,” Vir said, half to stave off the boredom, and half to keep himself awake. “What are—or were—they like?”

“I’m likely the wrong person to ask, lad,” Cirayus replied, keeping his eyes locked on the humanoids in the distance. “Seeing as I’m half Gargan myself.”

“Keep forgetting that,” Vir thought he understood. “You'd mentioned back when we first met that you’re only half-giant. Is that normal? Inter-clan marriages?”

“Hardly. In fact, it’s something of a taboo among the clans. My parents’ decision earned them quite a bit of hate.”

“Why, though? Aren’t they all demons?”

Vir wondered if it was like the way humans hated demons and vice versa. Though while he knew the clans weren’t united, he never thought it’d be this bad.

“Not quite. Not all clans are hostile to each other. Garga and Baira have long maintained close ties, and the Panav are on good terms with just about everyone, even maintaining open borders and welcoming other clansmen to set roots in their lands.”

“Then why?”

“The issue lies with the Bloodline Tattoos. I mentioned that each clan has tattoos only they can use, yes?”

Vir’s eyes widened. “It has something to do with their blood, doesn’t it? Their lineage? If they intermarry, they’ll lose it?”

“Exactly. Not only their blood, but their affinities, too. Baira’s Giant Hide and Giant Grace both require the Life affinity. Spirit of the Ravager needs Earth, and Balancer of Scales uses Earth and Life affinities. Any guesses which affinities you’ll find in most Bairans?”

“Earth and Life…”

“Aye. You’ll find that most demons in a clan are born with similar affinities. There are always exceptions, but nearly all Bairans have Earth and Life affinities. The Iksana are mostly born with Shadow and Life prana. And the Garga, Fire and Earth. Fitting, too. There is no more noble a clan than the Garga. If any Bairans caught me saying that, there would be blood on the streets. But it’s true. They model their namesake well.”

“Their namesake? Does the Garga mean anything?”

It was the name of one of Rudvik’s Ash’va at Brij, but he’d never given any thought about the name’s significance.

“Tis the name of an Ash Beast. Most closely resembles a bull, though far larger. It likes to rush headlong into its enemies. The actual beast is quite simpleminded, but it never backs down from a fight. That is the trait the Garga clan named themselves after.”

Why does that sound so familiar?

Cirayus’ description sounded incredibly familiar to Vir, though he couldn’t quite place it. Then it clicked. The tunnels under Daha, when Iran from the Prana Swarm!

He’d been gored by one of those beasts, which had then been consumed by the swarm.

“Every clan has their strengths and their weaknesses, but there is no clan I’d rather have at my back than the Garga. I don’t need to guess to know they’d give their lives serving their cause. They did exactly that, in the end.”

“Fighting off the Chitran?”

“Aye. Power mongers, the lot of them. Always been that way. Can’t say it was a surprise. Just never thought they’d unite the other clans under one banner.”

“Why did the Chitran do that? You never mentioned it.”

Surely an entire clan wouldn’t have united against the Garga without due cause.

“Aye, there was,” Cirayus said, frowning. “At the time, Chit territory shared the longest border with the Ash. Just as with the human Realm, the Ash creeps upon the Demon Realm, consuming our lands. The Chitrans feared for their future.”

Like Matali, then.

“The Gargans weren’t willing to compromise? Couldn’t they have worked together to redraw the borders?”

“The Garga proposed exactly that, but the Chits merely used it as an excuse for war. Never satisfied, they demanded Samar Patag, the Gargan capital. The capital! Who would give up their most prized city to a rival clan? Beyond ridiculous.”

“I get why the Chits might attack Garga in retaliation, but why would the other clans support them? Surely they’d never agree to such unreasonable terms?”

“Ordinarily, yes. The Chitran, however, can be persuasive. Their Bloodline arts all revolve around coercing and controlling others. Needless to say, they do not bear the best reputation.”

Vir couldn’t help think something was off there. If they were so suspicious, why would any of the other clans have allowed them to persuade them? Wouldn’t they have had countermeasures in place?

“No doubt you’re wondering why anyone would believe them, given their reputation. It is easy to suspect someone for an hour or a day. What about years? Decades?”

“They really planned that far ahead?”

It was unfathomable to Vir. Humans never operated on such long time horizons. They were lucky to plan a year or two ahead.

“Aye, the Chitran coup was masterful. Demons live longer than humans, you see. Far longer. They infiltrated every clan, placing agents in key positions. Their coercion was absolute and complete. By the time the clans understood what had happened, it was too late. The troops had been mobilized, the damage done.”

It was hard for Vir to fathom.

“Make no mistake, Vir. The Chitran are your enemies. When you return, they will do everything in their power to end you. For you represent an existential threat to their hegemony. As the Clanlord’s child, you wield the power to rally whatever Gargans remain. You wield the power of a revolutionary.”

Revolution? Vir hadn’t even met these Gargans, let alone sided with them! Forget staging a coup—he didn’t even know how long he’d stay in the demon lands!

So this is what Cirayus wants of me… This is why he’s training me.

“You want to make me strong so I can restore the Garga, don’t you?”

“Oh no, lad.”

Thank Yuma. Vir was worried the giant would force him into that role, whether he wanted it for himself or not. That would've been bad.

“Nothing as insignificant as that. I want you to be strong so you can live up to your name. Restoring Garga is but the first step. You are Sarvaak. The One Who Makes The World Whole.” Cirayus’ eyes were alight with a zealous fire. “You will unite the realm and usher demons into a new era. One the likes of which our people have never seen!”

Vir paled. It wasn't just bad—it was worse. Much worse.