280: Brick by Brick (Patreon)

“Sit down,” the Overseer said in a voice that was both soft, yet commanded absolute obedience.

Vir slowly lowered himself into a basic wooden chair. It wouldn’t do to comply immediately—prisoners like him would resist the Overseer in every petty way they could, and so Vir had to play the part.

The room itself was a small, dingy affair, feeling more like an afterthought that was squeezed into an open space well after the others had been built.

“I’m going to ask you some questions,” the Overseer said. “Answer honestly, and there’ll be no problem. Lie…”

The monkey man played his hands over a tablet, and Vir saw prana of all affinities flare to life on his collar.

Ah, yes. That’s my cue.

Vir’s eyes bulged. He gripped the collar, screamed, and fell off his chair.

The Overseer grinned. “Not much of a pain tolerance, eh? That was a low setting. Good. Means you’ll be obedient.”

Guess I overreacted…

Vir struggled shakily to his chair, making full use of his well-honed acting skills to pretend like he was recovering from severe trauma. The collar, of course, did absolutely nothing to him, as it didn’t use Ash prana. Even if it had, Vir doubted it’d break through Prana Armor so easily, and if it could, he’d just absorb the energy, anyway.

He’d never understood how, for most demons, forced injection of their own affinity was a painful affair—let alone an affinity they didn’t possess. For Vir, it simply meant he couldn’t absorb them into his body, but such attacks otherwise had no effect.

Perhaps it was due to Ash Prana being the origin of all affinities—denser, superior, and more resistant.

“We’ll start out easy,” the Overseer said, circling slowly around him. “What was that movement art you used?”

Vir frowned, pretending as if revealing his power was difficult for him. “W-well, it’s called…” he trailed off.

“Yes?” the Overseer said, leaning closer.

“Ash,” Vir whispered.

“Ash?”

“Burn in Ash.”

Vir smirked at the Kothi, who was expressionless for a moment. Then his lips curled slowly upward into a savage, tooth-filled grin. Or at least, one that showed whatever teeth the Overseer still possessed.

“So, you’re one of the stupid ones. Alright. Have it your way.”

He tapped on the tablet, and once more, prana surged through the collar—faster, and with more force this time.

Vir screamed in agony again and writhed on the floor.

“Stop! Please!” he begged, but the collar remained active, so Vir continued acting like he was in extreme pain.

Geez, Vir thought when the prana didn’t relent. If this actually worked on me, I’d probably be unconscious by now…

To play the part, Vir pretended to black out.

“Tch,” the Overseer clucked. “Somebody bring me some water.”

Vir heard shuffling, and was soon splashed with a bucket of cold, murky water, joling him ‘awake’.

“Wha-what happened?” He mumbled, blearily looking around.

“Well?” the Overseer snarled. “Had enough? Or would you prefer another round? I can do this all day if you like.”

“N-no,” Vir said shakily, gripping the chair and raising himself up with mock difficulty. “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything.”

The more ‘normal’ Vir came across, the less attention he’d bring to himself. Capitulating right away might’ve made the Overseer suspicious, so he played the part of an uppity prisoner who thought he knew better. Vir figured such types were a dime a dozen around a place like this.

“It’s… my tattoo,” Vir said with sagging shoulders. “Aspect of the Broken Realm.”

The Overseer grunted. “Thought as much, but still… Broken Realm? How does a tattoo about a blighted world bestow movement arts?”

“In my head, a broken realm has Ash Tears everywhere,” Vir lied smoothly. “I use those tears to move through the world. Well, not exactly. But that’s how I see it, anyway.”

“Can you do anything else with it?”

Vir shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

The Overseer grunted again. “Unsurprising. Still doesn’t explain how you managed to move so far at once, though. Not even the strongest of us can do that outside the Ash. I don’t buy it. You’re a spy, aren’t you? So who is it? The Iksana? Panav? Fess up.”

“Huh? A spy?“ Vir said, only partially feigning his surprise. The Overseer’s intuition was both terrifyingly on-point and as wrong as could be.

“Makes sense, doesn’t it? What’s your angle? I should have you killed, just to be sure.”

“That won’t be necessary,” a new, deep voice said.

The Overseer turned, ready to go off on whoever dared interrupt his interrogation. Yet when he took in the massive form that had stood hunched over, he paled instead. “Ravager! To what do I owe the honor?”

“You don’t,” Cirayus said curtly. “Because I am not here for you. I’d like to question this prisoner, if you don’t mind.”

“O-of course, sir,” the Overseer said, snapping to attention, but making no motion to leave.

Cirayus raised a brow. “Alone.”

“Oh, er… right.” The Overseer threw him a crisp salute and marched out. He met Vir’s gaze as he left, as if to say, I’m not done with you.

“You’ve got a lot of backbone to pull something like that here,” Cirayus boomed, loud enough for any ears outside to hear.

Then, in nearly a whisper, he added, “What were you doing, lad? Attracting attention like that? You’ll undo everything you’ve worked for.”

“Please! No! Don’t hurt me!” Vir replied, also loud enough to hear.

“I couldn’t let them die, Cirayus,” he muttered. “I need all the help I can get, and I think he’ll be useful. You saw the rebels at Samar Patag. There’s no one there who can lead. And we need leaders, if this is to work. I’m building the foundation. Brick by brick. Stone after stone.”

“You’ll tell me what I need to know, or would you like some more collar?” Cirayus thundered, grinning. The words were a facade. The grin was not. “Turning my own words back on me, are you? Look at how you’ve grown!” he whispered.

“Can you cover for me?” Vir asked softly.

Cirayus chuckled. “What are godfathers for, eh? You’re lucky I was here. Aye, I’ll get the Chits off your back, though I’m afraid there’s little I can do about the suspicion your fellow prisoners must now have.”

“Let me deal with that,” Vir replied, before shouting, “No, please! Not the collar. Not again!”

Cirayus slumped his shoulders. “I’m set to deal with another Ash Beast horde some days from here. I’ll be gone awhile. Irks me to leave you alone like this.”

“Is it normal for Ash Beasts to be so active?” Vir asked. “And I can take care of myself. You know that.”

“Aye, I do. And no, not at all normal, I’m afraid. Something is brewing within the Ash. Something dangerous. You’d best prepare, lad. Both yourself and those around you. I fear you’ll have precious little time to prepare before they send you in.”

“We’ll be ready,” Vir said.

“Aye, I expect you will. I’m due to visit several garrisons on my journey. I’ll take note of their defenses and weaknesses. Might keep an eye out for any talent that stands out to me.”

“Thanks, Cirayus. That will be incredibly helpful when the time comes. Just, uh… try to temper your expectations? Fighting near the Boundary might’ve hardened the veterans here, but I doubt any of them will live up to your standards.”

Cirayus snorted. “Who do you think you’re lecturing, lad?”

Though his words were harsh, the stupid smile on the big demon’s face carried a very different meaning. “Just be careful. This is an awful risk you take, and I fear you aren’t sufficiently prepared for this challenge.”

“When have I ever been?” Vir fired back. “Don’t worry. It’ll work out.” His expression darkened. “It has to.”

— —

Vir returned to the encampment outside the walls under escort.

The reason for the escort soon became apparent. Multiple camps surrounded the Garrison, each with around two hundred demons.

While Vir had observed this on the way in, he hadn’t realized that each batch was kept strictly under guard. It appeared that while prisoners were allowed to freely roam around their own encampment, any mingling between camps was strictly prohibited. Whether a security measure or for some other reason, Vir wasn’t sure.

Other than a few curious glances, he received no attention as he was marched to his berth.

After all, only a handful had seen him Blink to the gray demon’s location. Unfortunately, one of those happened to be his assigned roommate.

The guards thrust Vir back to his spot of dug-out dirt. A spot that was being slowly filled with ash.

Balagra was currently in his bipedal form, shoveling ash from his own spot with his bare hands.

Vir silently knelt and started working on his own.

“Are you alright?” Balagra said after a moment had passed.

“I’ll live,” Vir said.

“I imagine the Overseer must have only just asked you,” Balagra said, pausing his work to glance at Vir, “Who are you? I’ve seen my fair share of combat, and yet, I’ve never witnessed movement arts capable of such a long distance travel. At least, not outside the Ash.”

Vir laughed. “You’re right. The Overseer did say almost exactly that.”

“And what did you tell him?”

Vir shrugged. “That it was my tattoo. Aspect of the Broken Realms.”

“And the truth?” Balagra asked.

Vir stopped shoveling and looked at Balagra with amusement. “You don’t believe me?”

Balagra snorted. “I might’ve, if I hadn’t seen you. Broken Realms is one of the most difficult Aspects to master. I’ve seen no one capable of doing what you did. Let alone someone who claims not to be a Warrior Calling.”

“Well, that wasn’t a lie. But you’re right. I’m not who I say I am.”

Balagra nodded. “A spy, then?”

“No, a Gargan,” Vir replied, returning to shoveling.

Balagra snorted. “You mean like nearly everyone else here?”

“Not quite. I’m a rebel,” Vir said in a lower voice.

“I see,” Balagra said, resuming shoveling beside Vir.

“‘I see?’ That’s all?” Vir asked, sure the naga would probe deeper.

“I sympathize with your plight,” Balagra said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “What the Chits did to your people… It was unforgivable. I’ll have you know I disagreed with my clan’s decision to participate.”

“Did you? Take part, I mean?”

Balagra shook his head. “One of the several decisions my clan holds against me. Though admittedly less so these days, after seeing what the Chitran have done to your clan.”

“So you agree the Chitran need to be stopped,” Vir began, but Balagra held up his hand.

“I’ll stop you there, friend. Whatever it is you’re planning, I must ask that you leave me out of it. I said I sympathize with your plight, and I do. But yours is not my clan. This is not my fight. I’ve my own troubles to deal with.”

“Even if joining me meant getting out of here?” Vir asked, gesturing to the encampment. This was the carrot he’d hoped to dangle in front of Balagra. Who wouldn’t support a prospect like that?

“I’m not just saying that, either,” Vir continued. “I’m coming up with a plan. A solid one.”

Balagra’s response, however, left Vir at a loss for words.

“I’m afraid escape would do me no good, friend,” Balagra said with a tight smile, before returning to his shoveling.

Vir stood there for a moment, grappling with Balagra’s reaction.

He doesn’t want to leave? Truth? Or a lie? Vir dusted off his hands. Either way, he’ll be a tough one to convince. The others had better be easier.

— —

Vir found the gray demon easily enough—grays were rare, after all, and if nothing else, their complexion gave them something in common to break the ice.

While Vir had been unsure about visiting another demon even within their own camp, several others were milling about, chatting or arguing. Some small tussles even broke out, and the guards stationed at the periphery had to intervene.

It made crossing the camp simple, and soon, Vir was hailing the gray demon.

“You!” the demon said, his eyes widening in recognition. This was the first time Vir had gotten a good look at him. He was of a slight build, like Vir had been before he’d entered the Ashen Realm. His eyes, like Vir’s, were red, but his head was clean-shaven, and he wore faded rags like most everyone else.

The demon paced over to Vir and grabbed his bicep, guiding him away from his bunkmate, a red demon who snored loudly, a fine layer of ash building up on top of him as he slept.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You were the one who saved me, yes?” he whispered. “I couldn’t be sure, but…”

Vir nodded.

“Why? For a total stranger?” the demon’s eyes shifted as he spoke, never resting in one place. Despite this, he didn’t strike Vir as skittish, but rather as observant. A supremely useful trait.

Vir shrugged. “I just felt like you weren’t a bad person.”

The demon stared at Vir incredulously. “Not a bad… person. That was all?”

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an ulterior motive,” Vir admitted. “I’m looking for friends. It’s obvious they’ll have us fight in groups, and the more people I have watching my back that I can trust, the safer I figure I am.”

“That is… fair, yes. You deem me trustworthy, though? I’d call you foolish, had I not witnessed that feat you pulled off back there.”

“On our caravan journey here, we happened upon a family. You were one of the few who were visibly distraught at the slavers’ attempt to capture them. That’s not nearly enough to trust you, but it is a start, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, that,” the demon said. “Never thought I was being tested at the time.”

“Which is exactly why your reaction had value,” Vir replied. “I’m Neel, by the way. Of Garga. You are?”

“Malik. Of… er, of Garga, I suppose.” He whispered the clan name, though there was hardly a need to. As Balagra had said, most of the prisoners were Gargan.

“Well, Malik, it’s nice to meet you,” Vir said, clapping the demon’s shoulder. “Now, let’s talk about your friend. The one who tried to kill you.”