Chapter 63: Vimana Hiranya

Chapter 63: Vimana Hiranya

What you have to understand, Param began, is that the very name Daha means to blaze brightly. And indeed, the city certainly lived up to this lofty name long ago.

I take it times have changed? Vir asked, riding alongside the husband and wife. The pace, while slower than what he was used to, suited Bumpy just fine, and made it easy to converse.

Alas, they certainly have. The capital has seen better days, and that is putting it lightly. The place is a mess. Putrid warrens ring the entire city, surrounding the Grand Moat, and hardly a trace of its former glory still exists.

Neel, finding the conversation less than interesting, yawned and nodded off from his position behind Vir on Bumpy.

Ive heard so much about the downfall of Hiranya, Vir said, But no ones ever said why.

That is a complex matter, but fundamentally, Hiranyas plight stems from its distance from the Ashen Realm.

Because crops dont grow well, right? Vir offered.

Well, yes, but not exactly. Hiranya borders two of the most powerful nations in the Known World. The Altani and the Kinjal Empire. Both could crush our country at any time, should they choose to.

Rayali scowled. Those Kinjals very well might.

Indeed, Param replied, and as such, Hiranya requires protection. Our armies cannot hope to defeat the Kinjal Balarian army.

So the Altani protect us? Vir asked.

Correct. They have pledged aid to Hiranya should we be attacked. The cost, however, is steep. Every promising mejai is rounded up and sent to the Altani for training at a young age.

Isnt that a good thing? Vir asked. If anything, training their mejai would help Hiranya.

If those mejai ever returned to Hiranya, yes. While nothing stops them, it is no secret that life is far better in the Altani. Doubly true for mejai. They live better than King Rayid over there! Who would ever want to come back after having tasted such sweet fruit?

So thats why Apramor didnt want Maiya to become a mejai. Shed go off to the Altani, never to return.

Vir knew shed have thrived with the Altani. He couldnt fault Apramor for wanting to protect his daughter, but the man was depriving her of attaining her full potential. It felt wrong to Vir. And knowing her, shed never have abandoned her parents like that.

Hiranya has promised land, wealth, and power to strong mejai who choose to return, but alas, King Rayids policies have only had minor effect. And so, our country is bled dry of its most valuable assetits people, leaving its back broken. With every year that passes, Hiranya grows weaker, while the Altani and the Kinjals grow stronger.

That was a pretty lousy situation, Vir recognized. If the king broke the contract, Kinjal would invade. If he didnt, Hiranyas power slowly fell.

Whats worse, immigration to the Altani is nearly impossible unless you have magical talent. In which case, their borders are wide open and citizenship guaranteed. Mejai from all over the realm flock to the Altani, forcing nations to fiercely guard their borders to prevent this kind of flight.

Its even worse, Rayali said quietly. Hiranya is a poor country, and our domestic market is small. We export below average armor and weapons to the Altani for a pittance, undercutting Sai to the north. The Altani enchant this equipment and sell it back to Hiranya for a steep markup.

Why does Hiranya need magical equipment? Dont they have that treaty with the Altani? Vir asked.

They couldnt survive against armies without it, Param replied. Enchanted weapons and armor are incomparable to their mundane variants. In some situations, a single enchanted squad can take on an entire company of regular soldiers. The treaty with the Altani only protects Hiranya during a full invasion, after all. The Kinjals wage countless skirmishes against us at all times.

It was like the country was being squeezed dry. Vir wondered what hed find at the capitalParam and Rayali painted quite the grim picture.

For hours, they chatted and gossiped, and Vir quickly learned that once Param got started, he never shut his mouth. Rayali kept flashing Vir apologetic glances.

He sympathized with the poor woman. He only had to deal with Param for a day and a half. She had to put up with him forever. Her patience must have been saintly. That said, he did pick up some useful information about the city and its history.

The caravan stopped a full two hours before sunset at a spot on the rolling plains. Unlike Riyans desert, this area was flat, and was covered with hard, cracked clay, through which bushes and cacti crept. In the distance, the rocky crags of the Dahan steppe were just barely visible. Theyd ascend the steppe tomorrow, before making Daha around midday.

Vir felt it wasteful to stop so early until he saw just how much of a production it was to set up camp for a dozen people. Tent sites had to be scouted, cleared, and leveled to make way for the two large tents. Food had to be prepared, and fires made. The men erected the tents while the women began food preparation, and the children handled everything in between. Not one person idled around, and that included Vir.

While he didnt have a tent to pitch, he still needed to secure his own site. After chatting with Param and Rayali for the better part of the day, he knew they harbored no ill intent, but Vir wasnt one to take chances.

He cleared a spot of thorny weeds twenty paces away and laid out his blanket. Too tired to start a fire, he opted to dine on nuts and dried berries.

At least, until Param called him over to the groups camp and invited him to dine with him.

Vir began his practice. He sucked the prana from his foot up into his leg, creating a suction effect that pulled Ash prana from the ground.

Then, timing himself perfectly, he lifted his leg and kicked, willing the prana stored inside to explode.

He almost managed not to fall over.

This was the biggest issue with Empower. Sucking in the prana was easyit worked like Leap that way. But where Leap didnt insist on finesse, Empower demanded it, or hed throw himself off balance. Both the timing and the amount of power had to be exact or the ability wouldnt work.

After months of practice, Vir was getting the hang of it when training. In actual combat, it was still too unpredictable to use. According to Riyan, this Talent took most people years to perfect, so the fact that he had almost mastered it in months should be celebrated.

And yet, he wanted more. He always wanted more.

Vir practiced for another half hour until the Ash prana in the area ran dry, forcing him to call it a night and head back to bed.

It had been a long day, so he was out the moment he snuggled in next to Neel.

Param didnt even ask him to keep watch; the mans caravan had enough guards to handle that. It was a courtesy Vir truly appreciated, but it left him feeling bad about accepting coin while doing nothing in return.

Morning started early the next day. Soon, theyd torn down the camp and headed out, seeking the shelter of Dahas shaded streets before the desert heat peaked.

As they approached, Vir learned more about the citys organization. The vast majority of its residents lived either in the Warrensthe slums that surrounded the cityor the Commons, where most commoners lived. Only the Sawai could enter the District of Internal Affairs, and the Royal Grounds were off limits to all without an invitation.

Forget getting to the castle. Even the District of Internal Affairs seemed nearly impossible to gain access to. Legally. Dance of the Shadow Demon afforded several options, but hed have to inspect the area with his own eyes before forming a plan.

He could hardly contain himself; the sooner he resolved his business in Daha, the sooner he could start searching for Maiya.

The caravan slowed as they ascended a series of switchbacks that led up to the Dahan Steppe from the west. The Ashva worked hard to carry the heavy loads, and Bumpy was no exception.

With some tender coaxing and treats of hay, Bumpy the Brave made it up, panting and sweating. Vir made a note to stable him at a premium spot, as thanks for his effort.

Slowly, the western edge of the city came into view, but it was as if Vir was looking at a mirage on the desert. The city looked strange to his eyes, surrounded by a myriad of dark rocks. Something was off, but he couldnt quite place his finger on what, exactly.

As they crept closer, the dark rocks revealed themselves to be ramshackle wooden homes. Shacks, really. And not just a few dozen. Hundreds of these buildings butted up against each other, as if squashed. Some looked as though theyd collapse with a stiff wind.

In fact, a few had collapsed. In some places, only piles of wood showed that an abode once used to occupy that space. Vir only hoped no one was inside when it did.

When he saw how many people thronged the streets, packed like the slaves on Bakuras ship, he doubted that was the case.

The familiar smells of unwashed humans and bodily fluids permeated the air, punctuated by Ashva dung.

Vir pinched his nose as Param ordered the caravan to speed up. Whether it was because of the stench, or whether the man was worried about being mugged, Vir didnt care. This squalor was far worse than even the slums of Saran.

Param was right. This is tragic

And then, the moment they penetrated through the slums, Vir forgot it all.

A presence had detected him, focusing its godlike will upon him. Vir had never felt anything like it before. He felt stifled, though nothing physical was amiss.

It came from above.

Vir pointed to the sky, his mouth agape, eyes as wide as Grade A orbs. W-w-w-what!?

Come again? Param said.

What is that!?

The merchant followed his gaze to the palace that floated above the capital, casting it in eternal shadow.

Friend, I find it hard to believe that you do not know. Have you never heard of the Vimana Hiranya? The mythological floating palace of the gods?