Chapter Ashborn 362: Epilogue: Cogs of Destiny

Chapter Ashborn 362: Epilogue: Cogs of Destiny

“The conclusion of the Tournament normally calls for a vast banquet with three days of uninterrupted celebration, along with all manner of dancing, events, culminating in a ceremony in which the reward is bequeathed to the victory,” Thaman trailed off, undoubtedly reminiscing fondly on past times.

“Sounds like quite the spectacle,” Vir said, trying and failing to imagine what tens of thousands of demons all merry-making must have looked like.

“Quite so,” Thaman said, sneaking a glance at Ashani, who was currently walking around, staring at all the decorations with intense concentration. Vir had caught the Raja shooting several glances her way, as if he couldn’t quite figure out whether to involve her in the conversation or pretend she didn’t exist. He seemed to decide upon the latter course of action for the time being.

Clearing his throat, the Bairan Raja continued. “Given the circumstances, however, I’m afraid we must forego such an event. The public would understand.”

“Forego the celebrations!?” Cirayus thundered, making everyone nearby cringe. “Blasphemy! It’s unholy!”

“You don’t seriously propose revelry at a time like this?”

“Not at all,” Cirayus said with a devilish grin. “I say we defer the celebration. Much better than canceling it, don’t you?” Cirayus spat the word as if it were a curse.

“Very well,” Thaman said with an exasperated smile. “We shall postpone the celebration, if that suits you, Champion.”

Vir nodded.

“That said, I can give you the inscription right here and now. I’ve a handful of Royal Thaumaturges who can carve the tattoo on your skin as soon as today, if you desire...”

While the words sounded sweet, the bitter look on Thaman’s face said otherwise.

“There’s more you’re not telling me,” Vir said. “Isn’t there?”

“Alas, there is. I presume your goal is to collect all the Ultimate Bloodline Arts, yes?”

Vir nodded. He’d given a great deal of thought whether to sacrifice the option of obtaining every Ultimate in favor of regular bloodline arts, but he’d held off. The promise of their power was simply too great. Besides, Vir couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be a terrible failure to not obtain them all.

“Then I’m afraid I must present you with some unfortunate news,” Thaman said, looking down at the table.

“There isn’t a Thaumaturge in the land who can inscribe all the tattoos, lad,” Cirayus completed. He’d crossed all four of his arms and was leaning against a pillar nearby.

“What do you mean? Thaman just said his Thaumaturges were up to the task.”

“Of inscribing one, yes,” Cirayus continued, turning to allow Vir to see the markings on his back. “See how large Balancer of Scales is?”

The tattoo took up most of his back, and much of his chest as well.

“How do you think you’ll fit all seven of the Ultimate Arts, eh? Not to mention the fabled Lost art of the Iksana, assuming you ever unearth that one.”

“Wait. Lost art?” Vir asked. “Why have I not heard of this?”

“Because it’s a tale so old, it might as well be a myth, that’s why,” Thaman said.

All eyes in the room, Ashani’s included, turned on Thaman. Vir never thought he’d see the veteran Raja squirm under anyone’s gaze, but it seemed even he was no match for the eyes of a being from the Age of Gods.

Realizing his discomfort, Ashani looked away, studiously gazing at a nearby pillar. Vir suppressed a grin. She’d noticed Thaman’s reaction and was trying to humor him.

Her plan worked, and Thaman regained enough of his wits to continue his story.

“A thousand years ago, a great war consumed the realm. One of many during the time. The Iksana became embroiled, joining one side. The wrong side, as it were. Jalak Kallol was eventually sacked, and with it went the only inscription of the fabled Art ever to exist. Some purport that the whole war was a front to destroy that very scroll.”

Vir couldn’t help but appreciate the irony of their situation. How close it was to his own tale...

“What did the scroll do? Usher in a new era for demonkind?” Vir quipped.

Thaman grimaced, while Cirayus barked a harsh laugh, and even Ashani giggled. Aida said nothing, her expression turning dark.

“Nothing quite so grand,” Thaman said. “Yet, some might argue, far more terrifying.”

“The art was called Reality Inversion,” Cirayus explained. “According to legend, it gave the Iksana the ability to create an illusion so potent as to become real. A spell that could rewrite reality itself.”

“You can’t mean...” Vir's eyes widened as he thought through what that truly meant.

“Indeed. It seems they could undo death, and even cause the living to suddenly die. The art consumed a tremendous amount of prana, and only worked on a localized scale, but even so... Terrifying, wouldn’t you say?”

“Horrifying,” Vir replied. “To think such an art ever existed.”

Thaman shrugged. “It might never have,” he said. “Many believe it was all Iksana propaganda. Either that, or a similar ability might really have existed once, but myths and time have warped it far beyond what it was ever capable of. In any case, we will never know.”

“Right,” Vir said, thankful he didn’t live in an era where such an ability might’ve existed. Purging the image from his mind, he turned his thoughts back to the topic at hand. “So you’re saying that if I allow your Thaumaturges to inscribe Balancer of Scales, I will be doomed to forego some of the others.”

“I’m afraid so,” Thaman said. “I know this is not the outcome you were hoping for.”

“Isn’t there anyone?” Vir said. “You’re telling me there’s nobody in this wide realm who can perform this feat? Distance is not an issue for me. It doesn’t matter if they’re in some remote village in the farthest reaches of Aindri territory or deep within the Iksana tunnels. I can get to them.”

Thaman sighed. “Not in this realm, I’m afraid. The only entity who requires this skill is the Akh Nara, and while there are those who seek to preserve your legacy, the last Akh Nara died over five hundred years ago. Time has not been kind to the keepers of this knowledge.”

“Keepers of the Akh Nara’s legacy?” Vir said, raising a brow as he looked at Cirayus. “This is the first I’ve heard of this.”

Thaman looked equally surprised. “You haven’t told him about them?”

“About who?” Vir asked, now frowning. “What’s he talking about, Cirayus?”

“Your offer is tempting. Dangerously so,” Thaman said.

“No danger here, Thaman,” Vir said with a smile. “I hope to forge a bond of mutual benefit. For decades and centuries to come. As you just said—we need to get past political games and clan warfare. This is how it begins.”

Thaman grinned. “Brick by brick.”

“Stone by stone,” Vir completed.

The three of them chatted for the next several hours while Aida returned through Ashani’s Gate to fetch her things for the journey ahead. Ashani had never been to Vir’s demon camp, so they would have to take her Gate to the outskirts of the city, before walking to the Gate Vir had established near the Boundary. Once through—assuming they could get Aida to fit—it would be another trip to the camp.

At normal speeds, this would all take days, but Vir and Cirayus reduced that to a mere handful of hours. It was agreed that Aida would ride atop Cirayus’ shoulders, while Ashani would be held by Vir in his arms. She’d vehemently refused the indignity of riding on his shoulders, let alone being carried like a sack of potatoes.

“I’d hoped to meet with the Panav Rajni, but I suppose striking up relations with two Rajas is more than I could’ve hoped for.”

“Kira had to return to her clan on urgent matters, I’m afraid,” Thaman said. “She actually wanted to chat with you as well. Alas, she’s asked me to forward you an invitation to Vraj Parah.”

Vir nodded. “Please convey that I would be honored to—”

“You weren’t about to leave without me, were you?” Tara said, bursting through the door, looking like she was about to embark on a voyage of a hundred years. She carried on her back a rucksack easily as tall as her, and at least a half-dozen weapons were strapped to it on all sides. They jingled as she walked, upsetting her balance and nearly making her tip over.

Vir couldn’t even begin to guess how much it all weighed, and Tara had neither Balancer of Scales nor the innate might of the Bairans to ease her burden.

“Tara?” Thaman cried. “This is a private meeting! Besides, how did you—?”

“Ajji sent me,” Tara said, as if that answered everything.

To Vir’s surprise, Thaman’s look of surprise melted away into one of understanding.

“I see,” he said. “Cirayus, do you have room for one more?”

“I can carry a dozen people as far as I’m concerned. It’s up to the lass whether she’s okay with that.”

“I am,” Tara replied without hesitation.

“Um... Do I get a say in this?” Vir asked.

Tara grinned and pointed to Thaman. “He’s a Raja.” She moved her finger to Cirayus. “And he’s the Ravager.”

“And I’m the Akh Nara?” Vir said, feeling hot in the cheeks for having to say it out loud.

“Ahhh, yeah. That’s true. You are, aren’t you? ”

“Now, look here,” Vir began, allowing his irritation to seep into his voice. “You can’t just barge in and—”

Before he could finish, and against the expectations of likely everyone in the room, Tara dropped to one knee and bowed her head. Her backpack clanged in protest, but she paid it no mind.

“I am Tara of the Clan Panav, and I pledge myself to the Akh Nara’s cause. Allow me to join you in your noble mission. I... May not have much to offer, but allow me to help undo the wrongs my people have wrought upon this realm.”

“N-no, I... That’s...” Vir found his mouth opening and closing, but no words came.

Exasperated, Vir looked to Cirayus, who simply shrugged. Thaman’s awkward smile was of no help, either.

“Very well, then,” Vir said, shaking his head. “I’ll never refuse the company of anyone as capable as you, Tara. You offer a lot. A whole lot, in fact. And even if you didn’t, I consider you a friend. That ought to be reason alone. I hope you’ve prepared for hardship, though. We have quite an adventure ahead of us.”

Tara rose to her feet, grinning. “Bring it.”

“Then, Ashani? If you will.”

Ashani, who had discretely shifted to her demonic appearance the moment Tara entered the room, strode confidently up to Vir.

“Oh, yeah. Where’d you dig up that gem?” Tara asked, thumbing at Ashani.

Thaman’s eyes flew wide with fear and shock, while Vir and Ashani burst out laughing.

“Would you believe me if I said Mahādi?”

“Mah... The City of the Gods!? You’re pulling my leg, right?”

Tara turned to Thaman. “Right?”

The Raja groaned.

Vir followed a giggling Ashani, a confused Aida, and a sympathetic Cirayus through the newly formed Gate.

He turned when he was through, extending a hand to the Nagini.

“I told you we had an adventure in front of us. We’re about to make history, and the path will be paved with sweat and tears. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Tara grasped Vir’s arm and shot back a toothy grin, though Vir could tell it was just a facade from her shock and surprise.

“As I said. Bring it.”

END OF ARC EIGHT. END OF BOOK FOUR