275: Kartara Nights (Part Three) (Maiya) (Patreon)

To Maiya, the flight back took no time at all. She hardly noticed when they crossed the border to Hiranya, and then finally to Kin’jal, barely even registering the Acira transfers in between.

Her thoughts roiled within her head, entirely consumed with the image of the man she’d seen. A man whose face had been shorn off and shoddily healed.

He’s… still alive.

She shouldn’t have been surprised. Riyan was like a cockroach. He wouldn’t have died so easily.

Memories of another life flooded her mind. Of training and living together with Vir in Riyan’s strange, yet somehow cozy, abode. It was a different time, then. A simpler time, with fewer responsibilities. It was only a year ago.

Maiya’s thoughts wandered as the frigid air slowly turned warm again, stoking the flames of her nostalgia.

How had Riyan survived? Where had he been all this time, and what had he been up to?

Why was he in Sai, of all places?

Yet the more she stewed over it, the more it made sense. Riyan was not a difficult man to understand. Scarred, jaded, and ruthless, yes. But not complicated.

Riyan loved Hiranya. That was the core of his very existence. To that end, he’d devoted his life to ensure Princess Mina would never wear the crown, and he’d succeeded.

He paid a hefty price. Though I suppose he wouldn’t see it that way, Maiya thought bitterly.

Riyan would’ve gladly sacrificed his face or an arm—even his life—to see Mina dead.

She wasn’t dead. Not quite, but close. From the Kin’jal intelligence network’s reports, it sounded like the princess had fallen into delirium, babbling nonsense and ranting at anyone who came near. Apparently, Hiranya had to have her locked up. Both for her safety, and for those around her.

Does it give him joy seeing her this way? Maiya wondered. She somehow doubted it.

Riyan seemed to have turned his sights outward after his pyrrhic victory. Sai was Kin’jal’s ally, and a border nation to Hiranya. As such, they posed his country a threat. It wasn’t hard to guess that Riyan intended to install a government hostile to Kin’jal.

Which would, ironically, interfere with the Princess’ plans. Though she was planning a coup, would the new Saian regime see it that way? Maiya wasn’t certain. She was also uncertain whether this new government would survive the invasion Andros was bound to initiate.

Too many pieces were moving, and Maiya felt as though she lacked sufficient information to decipher it.

As Frumpy landed in Jatan Forest and the excitement of the night finally began to wear off, Maiya felt fatigue take its hold. It was late, she was cold and tired, and her bed called.

After submitting a brief verbal report of the night’s events to the handmaiden pilot, she tromped off into the chilly forest, her Magic Lamp guiding the way.

The pilot would remain on standby until Maiya’s double returned… which should be in just a few moments.

It took her some doing to locate the well-hidden secret hatch, but once she did, it took only a few more to reach the false wall bookshelf that hid the entrance to her room.

Back home at last—!?

Maiya’s eyes widened in horror.

Blood covered the stone ground of her chambers. Her bedding was shredded, the chair and desk had been obliterated, and her personal effects were strewn all over the room.

Standing in the very center of that carnage was none other than the Blessed Chosen. He gripped the neck of her double, holding the poor girl in the air as she suffocated, her legs flailing helplessly.

“Oh good,” the Blessed Chosen said, turning his head almost casually toward Maiya. “You’ve returned at last. This will be easy.”

The handmaiden wrenched her head and locked her eyes with Maiya. She didn’t need to whimper or scream. From her eyes alone, Maiya could see her fear. Her terror.

She was young. Even younger than Maiya.

“Please put her down,” Maiya said, showing her open palms. “She was acting under orders. The blame rests with me. I don’t know what you want, but I’ll cooperate. Please, just let her go.”

“You will cooperate, then?” the Blessed Chosen said.

“Whatever it is you want,” Maiya repeated.

The Blessed Chosen regarded her without even the barest trace of emotion. “Whatever I want, is it?”

“I’ll do it. So just let her—”

Crack.

The handmaiden’s legs abruptly stilled. The Blessed Chosen dropped her limp corpse, which thudded onto the ground.

Her neck was twisted at an impossible angle.

“Good,” the enormous man said, teeth glinting. “Come. Have a seat.”

Maiya didn’t respond. She simply stood there, gaping at the dead girl on the ground, trying desperately to blink back her tears. She was unsuccessful.

— —

Maiya sat in the chair in a daze. It wasn’t that she was unused to death. Just that this was so sudden. So cruel. So… unnecessary.

She was so young…

The girl’s corpse lay just a few paces away, and the poor girl’s pleading expression was all Maiya could look at. Pleading for Maiya to help.

“Eyes on me,” the Blessed Chosen said. Maiya begrudgingly shifted her gaze.

“Why?” she whispered. “What threat was she to you?”

“You would say this? After betraying your own people?”

Maiya scowled. “My people, is it? That’s rich, coming from you. I’ve yet to see you at a single blood ritual. Where have you been? What do you do all the time?”

I need to play this carefully, Maiya thought, fighting to purge the shock and guilt from her mind.  There would be time for grief later.

To Maiya’s surprise, the Blessed Chosen laughed. A great, bellowing guffaw that echoed off the walls of her chamber.

“What do I do?” the Blessed Chosen said, wiping a tear from his face.

“I fail to find the humor in this,” Maiya said tersely. If she believed she could kill the Blessed Chosen on her own, she would. But she knew nothing of his power, other than his superhuman strength. He could very well be a Talent wielder, which meant Maiya would have to be exceedingly cautious dealing with him.

Moreover, Maiya understood how fragile her position was. The Blessed Chosen would be well within his rights to have her executed. It was exactly the opportunity he’d been waiting for. Which was why she’d taken every precaution. She hadn’t made a single mistake. He couldn’t have known of her foray.

So how…? How had he found out?

“I suffer,” the Blessed Chosen spat. “I suffer the way in which no human does. All thanks to you. You! So blissfully oblivious. Soon. Charging at my throne like its some trophy. Soon, you will come to understand. You will share in my suffering. Only, by then, it will be too late. You will regret your every action. You will curse your ignorance.”

“If you’re trying to scare me from your position, you know it won’t work,” Maiya said.

“Oh, I know. I know it well. Your ambition has brought you this far. Words of warning from an enemy won’t sway you.”

“Then why not strike me down now? It would be well within your right to, yes?”

The Blessed Chosen’s expression turned sour.

“I have already killed once tonight. You may consider me a monster, but I had hoped to avoid another.”

Maiya’s eyes narrowed, and she fell into thought. “That would’ve been a lot more believable if you hadn’t tried to have me assassinated and poisoned. Which means… I see. You can’t harm me, can you? The Sisters of Gray would frame it as an act of aggression!”

Maiya’s heart raced. If the Blessed Chosen was hesitating despite having this much evidence, the Sisters must have commanded more power than Maiya had given them credit for.

The large man growled. “Allying with those witches was the smartest move you have made.” It sounded as though each word caused him pain. Maiya could even hear him grinding his teeth. “At best, we devolve into a civil war. At worst… I lose my life and the mantle passes on to you. Either outcome benefits them.”

“Them?” Maiya said, feeling for her Ice Prison spell beneath her robe. It was a B Grade spell, and it’d been precharged. “You mean the Sisters?”

If what the Blessed Chosen said was true, then maybe she could take him out here and now. The Sisters could craft a cover story and spin this in her favor.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” the Blessed Chosen said calmly.

Maiya’s fingers froze. How did he notice?

Maiya was no amateur. She’d been trained by the best and forged in fire. She’d been extremely careful not to give away any clue of what she was doing. Which meant she hadn’t. There had been no tells. No signs of her actions. Her hands had been beneath the table, well out of sight of the Blessed Chosen. The same as her plan to sneak out for Ira’s mission. Flawless.

“I once had asked if you felt any different since your… experience,” the Blessed Chosen said, blatantly changing the topic.

“And I told you I did. You never said what it meant,” Maiya replied. She didn’t like that he was controlling the conversation, though she went along with it for now. She needed time to think. To formulate a plan.

“It means you are one of us now.”

Maiya’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve passed enough tests and rituals. I’ve been one of you for a while.”

“Not that,” the Blessed Chosen said, shaking his head and crossing his arms. “One of us. The Chosen. The soul of the cult. The imprisoned.”

Maiya felt a headache coming on. She’d been through a long night, and now she had the trauma of a dead handmaiden on her mind as well. At their first meeting, the Blessed Chosen had struck her as more sane than the others, but now, she was starting to doubt herself. Had she been wrong? Or had he changed in the interim?

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Maiya said. “Moreover, I would like to know what happens now. The way I see it, I have the upper hand. You cannot hurt me without risking your reputation. I, on the other hand, have nothing to lose.”

This was her chance, and Maiya took it.

But before Maiya could activate her orbs, the Blessed Chosen grabbed her wrist and brought her hand to his chest.

“What are you doing—!?” Maiya shrieked.

Her body went slack. The room around her disappeared, and she was suddenly surrounded by darkness. Darkness… punctuated by dots of white light. Threads—tendrils—reaching out to… everyone.

Spanning the world, she sensed… presences. Life forms, though she knew not how.

“W-what is this?”

“This is the world you have been awoken to,” the Blessed Chosen said. “This connection to the Children. You were always one of us. But now? Now, you are the core. They are connected to you.”

Maiya’s voice shook. “You’re saying… I’m sensing the Children of Ash?”

The connection didn’t scare her. This ability was a form of power—strange magic that followed no rules she was aware of—but power nonetheless.

That was, if it wasn’t also accompanied by the crippling sense of loss.

“Every. Single. One,” the Blessed Chosen confirmed, releasing her hand. Maiya snapped back to reality, a sudden sense of nausea making the world spin around her.

What was that? Maiya thought, heart nearly pounding out of her chest. That sensation… It was unlike anything she’d ever felt.

“Death,” Maiya whispered. “It was death. This is what you live with?”

It was as if someone had ripped her very being into pieces. Like her soul had been corrupted, somehow.

She quickly checked herself over. To her relief, whatever it was had been temporary. Only the memory of the feeling remained.

“This is your final warning.,” the Blessed Chosen said, and this time, Maiya listened. “You are delving into matters far beyond your comprehension. Turn back now, or forever regret your actions.”

Maiya didn’t know what to make of all this. Her head was still reeling from that experience.

“What was that?” Maiya asked. “Please, tell me.”

“Power,” the Blessed Chosen said. “And its terrible cost.”

“It’s how you found me, didn’t you?” Maiya asked, biting her lip. “You felt me leave the premises.”

The Blessed Chosen’s silence answered her.

“Then you’ve known. You’ve known I was a Kin’jal agent all along,” Maiya said, grinding her teeth. She’d been in far more danger than she’d thought.

“I cannot harm you. But I can harm those you care about. Yamal. My brother. Even that dog of yours that lives in Sonam. The gods are on my side.”

“If you’re counting on dead gods to save you, I’m afraid you’ll be sorely disappointed,” Maiya said. The confidence in her voice was nothing more than a thin act. Maiya had every reason to believe the Blessed Chosen would kill them. One look at the handmaiden’s corpse was all the proof she needed.

“You speak of the Prime Imperium,” the Blessed Chosen said, a small grin creeping upon his lips.

Maiya’s eyes narrowed. She knew about the woman Vir had met within the Ash. This Ashani Automaton. It had all sounded so fantastical, yet from all that she’d heard, the gods were well and truly dead. Ashani may very well have been the last vestige of their legacy.

“False gods,” the Blessed Chosen spat. “No, I speak of those who surpass them. Those truly deserving of the mantle of divinity.”

Just a few moments ago, Maiya would have dismissed his words as deranged rambling. After experiencing that connection to the others—that soul-crushing weight—she wasn’t so sure anymore.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “I’ve never heard of these gods. Do they have a name? Why aren’t they in the history books?”

“You’ll find no reference to them. Though invisible, their influence can be felt. Though unknowable, they weave the threads of reality. You will never meet them. You will never see them. But you will feel their presence, if only by way of Fate. They are quite real, I’m afraid.”

That… was a lot of words to say very little, Maiya thought, feeling a headache come on.

“Life is so… impermanent, wouldn’t you agree?” the Blessed Chosen said. “People are born. People die. Nations form, thrive, and fall. And through it all, certain entities remain.”

“Entities?” Maiya asked.

“Organizations. The Guild of Merchants. The Order of Mejai Sorcar. But do you know which among them is the oldest? Which among them has existed ever since the fall of the Imperium? Which thrives even to this day?”

“The Children of Ash,” Maiya said bitterly. She’d never thought about it before, but now that she did… Not even the Order of Mejai Sorcar boasted that record. They formed centuries after. Yet records of the Children go back all the way to the Age of Gods. She’d know. She’d researched those records extensively as preparation.

The Blessed Chosen smiled, and leaned back as if having made his point. “Odd, is it not? That an organization such as ours should bear that distinction?”

Maiya considered the implications of what the man across from her was saying, and summarily rejected them.

No gods watch over this cult, she thought. Don’t fall for his lies.

Maiya only wished she had more conviction in that assertion.

“There is still time. Leave this place. Never come back.”

Maiya remained silent.

The big man stared at Maiya for a long moment. “I see. Then I will have you under guard from now on. I don’t know why I waste my breath, anyway. You may think you have control over your actions, but the gods prevail. They always have.” The last few words came out as a whisper.

Then, abruptly, the Blessed Chosen stood, forcing Maiya to do the same in reflex.

He strode to the door and left without a second glance, slamming it behind him.

Maiya was, very suddenly, alone. Alone, and utterly exhausted. Like a marionette with her strings cut, Maiya crumpled next to the corpse at her feet. She tenderly held the girl's quickly cooling hand and blinked back her tears.

Ira. I need to see you.