184: Ashani (Patreon)

Vir did not slip into the blissful land of the unconscious, where the peace of dreams awaited. Blaring pain from his broken leg barred those gates.

Pain made worse by an Ash Wolf—the one who’d handed him the black orb earlier. Now it stood with a paw on his leg, howling in desperation.

It’s scared, Vir thought. For… its master?

Vir reached for the orb but found his body sluggish and unresponsive, as if wading through thick syrup. The experience was similar to when he used Haste, except instead of the world slowing around him, it was his own body that moved with agonizing slowness.

Grabbing the orb, Vir braced himself for the next ordeal—pulling himself to the white lady… or whatever she was. He wasn’t sure, with the black metal ropes sticking out of her shoulder and the orb receptacle embedded into her back.

Vir didn’t care if she turned out to be another Ash Beast at this point. She was sapient. That was enough for him. And maybe… just maybe she could heal him. He had no good reason to believe she possessed such capabilities, but something about her bearing struck him. Not in the way Cirayus did with his chakras, but something else entirely. It was a stretch, but it was all he had.

If only that wolf could drag me again, Vir thought. When he looked around, the wolf had disappeared. He caught glimpses in the distance. Is it... fighting?

Vir blinked to find that a number of small, hedgehog-like foes had moved in, and the wolf was embroiled in a fierce battle to keep them at bay.

Looks like you're on your own, Vir, he thought, bracing himself for the torture that was to come.

Heaving with all his might, which wasn’t much at all, he began to close the gap, one inch at a time.

Two inches. Five, then ten… Vir lost track of time. Had it been a minute? An hours? He couldn't say; his life’s only purpose was to crawl. To advance at all costs.

Whenever darkness crept in and he fell, the wolf's howl would him right back up, and again, he would crawl.

She wasn’t far. Ten paces at most, though it might as well have been ten realms.

Where others might have failed, Vir persisted. When he reached his limits, the Ash Wolf brought him back to reality. Vir didn’t know how, but through sheer willpower alone, he closed the gap and finally… inserted the orb into its socket, sliding it in place.

The receptacle retracted into her back, and a lid slid shut over it. No trace or seam remained, revealing flawless pale skin without a single blemish.

Except that was all that happened. The white lady’s arm was still a stump, and she still lay in a pool of blueish blood.

All that for nothing?

Vir sat back, too injured and exhausted to try anything else. That had been it—his last resort.

What now? Vir thought. His mind was too addled to process much of anything. Be it analyzing what his ancestors had done to keep him alive, or even to try and find a way out. Was there anyone else here? Was this truly the fabled Mahādi Realm? How would he ever get back?

The woman began to glow. The black ropes within her arm elongated, tightening like muscle. It continued to grow, forming an arm, then a delicate hand.

Am I seeing things? I must be seeing things, Vir thought. It was little wonder, considering the state he was in.

Her skin regrew near-instantly. She rolled onto her back, sitting up in one elegant motion.

Her eyes fluttered rhythmically, then found Vir.

“Who art thou? Thou hast bequeathed the holp due Ashani? By way of choice?” she said with a strange, exotic accent Vir couldn’t place.

Uh, what? Is that another language?

The woman smiled, and Vir’s heart skipped. “‘Tis as the spring mornwater. thou rest be bestowed of the holp now Ashani.”

Perhaps Vir might’ve made sense of her words some other time, when his mental faculties hadn’t been robbed. Now, though, it all sounded like gibberish.

“Who are you?” he croaked as the world darkened around him.

The woman gazed into his eyes.

“A servant of one Whom keepeth Fate. By way of the shepherd.”

Vir’s rest was deep and without dreams. When he finally awoke, it felt as though he’d slept for millennia.

Instead of ash-darkened skies, Vir found himself staring up at an unadorned ceiling.

Vir sat up, groaning in pain. He’d been placed on a hard bench-like surface, which explained his soreness.

The surrounding room was fairly normal, aside from a few oddities. A sofa floated above the ground in the corner, along with a small table—also floating. One entire wall of the room was glass, overlooking an empty street three stories below. Stormclouds roared in the distance, though the roar of thunder couldn’t be heard at all from inside.

Moving picture frames were hung on all the walls, most showing off the same two or three family members, several of which featured the white lady.

There was no need for magic orbs, because the ceiling glowed.

Where in the Realms…

If this really was Mahādi, as Shardul had said, then that meant…

This building was built by the gods! By the Prime Imperium!

“Thou hast awoken?”

Vir whipped his head to find the white lady from before, standing just inches away from his face.

Vir gasped, nearly falling off the bench. The room had been empty just moments earlier.

“Praised be the tidings of morrow!” she exclaimed happily, grabbing him and arresting his fall.

“T-Thanks? Uh, where am I? You’re… the one from before, aren’t you? Are you alright?”

To his relief, she appeared to have made a full recovery. Her arm functioned as if her injury had never occurred, and her dress had been mended, unblemished by even a speck of dust.

The impossibly beautiful woman tilted her head in confusion, as if trying to parse Vir’s words.

That makes two of us. Vir stared at her, transfixed. How the heck can anyone be so pretty?

It was as if some deity had sculpted the perfect figure from a block of white marble.

“I’m Vir,” he said slowly, pointing to himself. “Can you understand me? Because I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

The woman smirked, and from that one expression alone, Vir felt like a chal.

“Vir, short for Ekavir. Bravest of the Brave. A good name. An old name.”

Vir's brows raised. “How did you know?” he asked, thrown off by the sudden change in her words.

“The winds of time might well shift the sands of speech, but Ashani understands,” she said. He immediately felt dumb for miming his words earlier.

Ashani? Is that her name? Why does she talk in the third person, though?

“I guess we kinda saved each other, huh?”

“Indeed. Thank you for your assistance in defeating the Garuda. Ashani has already dealt with the others.”

So that’s what the beast was called, Vir thought.

“I am… happy to see you. More than you could know. Please, call me Ashani,” she said with a nostalgic smile. “There was a time when people referred to me by that name, once.”

Ashani… Vir thought. Why does that name sound so familiar?

The look of profound sadness on her face made Vir want to give her a hug and tell her that everything would be alright. She looked utterly heartbroken.

Then he remembered he’d only just met the woman and coughed awkwardly.

“I’m sorry,” Vir said softly. “I didn’t mean to make you recall painful memories.”

Ashani said nothing, gazing off into the distance, which only made Vir feel worse.

“You, uh, look a lot better!” Vir said cheerily, hoping to shift the conversation away from dark topics. “Looks like you’re all healed up?”

“Indeed. Such trivial damage would never have threatened Ashani, were she not low on energy cores.”

Energy core? She must mean the orb I slotted into her back.

“What about prana poisoning? You’re immune to that?”

“Ashani is affected,” she said, shaking her head, “but in mysterious and esoteric ways.”

“So, you’re… speaking normally now?” he mustered the courage to ask. It wasn’t just her voice, either. Her body language and mannerisms had shifted, too. Where before, she’d come across as stiff and reserved, now she looked far more casual. Though still not quite normal.

She’s mirroring my gestures, isn’t she? With his training in the art of subterfuge, slight shifts in body language came naturally to Vir, and he noticed when others did it, too. He should have noticed it the moment she’d shifted, but he hadn’t.

Something about her was so disarming—it put him off balance, and he couldn’t pinpoint why. It was like she was both elegant and childish at once.

The woman giggled. “Normal is quite relative to one’s society and times, wouldn’t you say? Clearly, language has changed much in the past four thousand years. Ashani wonders what else has.”

“That’s certainly a long time for a language to—wait. But you were speaking like… You’re four thousand years old!?”

Ashani’s expression darkened. “In Ashani’s time, it was considered taboo to ask a lady her age. Has this custom been lost to the Ash as well?”

“Oh, uh, no. No, it’s still a thing. Sorry.”

“Alas, Ashani is relieved to hear it is merely your own impropriety and not an endemic issue! Ashani fears for a society lacking such etiquette,” she said, before continuing in a quieter voice. “Long has Ashani wandered alone, fearing the survival of her society.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ashani owes you an apology. She administered medical aid to save your life, but further treatment is required,” she said, producing a needle. At one end was a strange tube that held a glowing blue liquid.

Before Vir could react, she’d disappeared, reappeared next to him, and inserted the needle.

There was a whooshing sound, and the contents of the needle emptied into his blood.

It had all happened in less time than it took Vir to blink.

“Did you just—”

“Fruits?” Ashani asked, thrusting a platter of cut-up gray fruits at Vir. He was now convinced she either had a Talent that allowed her to travel instantly, or she simply moved incomprehensibly fast.

The slight breeze that accompanied her movements hinted at the latter.

“Thanks? May I ask what you just stuck into me?” Vir was far beyond worrying. If she’d wanted to harm him, she didn’t even have to do anything. He’d have died on his own.

Vir bit into a fruit and nearly cried in delight. These are divine!

“A simple cocktail of nanopranites,” she replied.

“Er, what are nonopites?”

“Pranites. Submolecular prana machines that hasten the healing of wounds, restore DNA, and enhance your red blood cells’ prana capacity. They perform a slew of other tasks as well, preventing mutations, ridding arteries of plaque, reducing blood prana resistivity, supporting musculoskeletal function, spurring telomerase activity, and boosting white blood cell efficacy.”

The woman’s speech, while somewhat more normal now, still gave Vir a headache. Her sentences sounded like they ought to make sense, but the words were simply gibberish.

“I… didn’t understand a word of that. Could you please simplify?”

Ashani frowned. “Has medical technology deteriorated? Or do you simply use different terminology?”

“I’m… not sure,” Vir replied, somewhat confused. Who was she?

“Ashani owes you another apology. Owing to her actions, you have suffered a great deal. She put you in great peril.”

“It was nothing like that,” Vir said. “I saw you injured and decided to help. You didn’t have any part in…” Vir trailed off, a sudden thought dawning on him.

No. It can’t be, he thought. She couldn’t have.

“Ashani brought you through her gate.”

“You… brought me here. Through an Ash Gate that you created?” Vir wheezed.

Ashani nodded. “Unintentionally. Ashani hoped to allow the wolves to flee to safety. The silly things. They all refused. All but one. He left to bring you. It seems I have failed spectacularly.”

She can make Ash Gates. She can make Ash Gates. She can make Ash Gates!

Not just Tears. Actual gates.

Vir didn’t know what was more shocking. That she might be able to send him back to Cirayus, or that he hadn’t suspected a thing until now.

Perhaps it was her odd manner of speech, or maybe her ethereal beauty, or the way she kept him off balance throughout their conversation.

It was all there. Her age and odd mannerisms. Her almighty powers.

“Um, Lady Ashani? Do you by any chance know of a race of people who called themselves the Prime Imperium?”

Ashani tilted her head in confusion, frowning. “Why, of course. For what reason do you ask?”

Sweat beaded on Vir’s brow.

“Er, this may be presumptuous of me, but what is your relationship with them?” Vir squeaked.

Ashani proudly placed a hand on her chest. “Ashani is a Prime Imperium Automaton, fashioned by Artificer Janak as companion to his daughter Siya in her final days.” Her voice lowered, expression darkening. “Keeper of the legacy of our people and sentinel of this forgotten mausoleum. Ashani is the one who remembers when others have forgotten.”

Her expression darkened. “The one who remains when all others are long gone.”