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“‘Tis simple,” A Chitran general said, slamming his palms down on a centuries-old wooden conference table. “We deny the legitimacy of this Vaak’s claim.”
“If only it were that simple,” Governor Asuman said. “I’m afraid the existence of the tablet I signed complicates matters significantly.”
The general scoffed. “Bah, so what if he has a tablet? Who will he complain to? Raja Matiman himself?”
His words earned him chuckles and muted laughter from around the table.
“No,” Asuman said, “but he could use that tablet to incite an insurrection. The Gargans may not be rebelling just yet, but word of Vaak’s feats will soon spread, and when it does, they will feel empowered. Perhaps even empowered enough to revolt.”
“Your fears are unfounded. They will fail,” said the general.
“Nevertheless, they may very well see fit to try, and that would cause sufficient damage of its own. Never underestimate the madness of crowds.”
“What of The Ravager?” another general asked. “I admit, that was not a face I was expecting to see after a decade and a half of absence.”
“Yes, that is a problem as well,” Asuman said, stroking the fur on his wide chin. “Vaak not only has the support of the Iksana but also the Ravager’s—and by extension, the Baira. I fear we may have no recourse but to honor the agreement. At least for now. I wish I had not so casually signed that tablet. ”
“Who could have expected this? Alas, I never expected him to survive, let alone defeat the entire horde on his own. When was the last time this realm witnessed such a feat?”
“We are not here to extol the virtues of this Gargan sympathizer,” another general said, his eyebrows twitching. “We are here to devise a solution out of this mess.”
“The solution is simple,” Vir said, throwing open the room’s double doors and waltzing in with every bit of gusto he could muster.”You listen to your governor. You honor the pact, and nobody has to get hurt.”
Vir’s entry bought him the results he’d hoped for. A few generals knocked their seats back in panic, while others gripped their chair handles as if their lives depended on it. Their tails all wagged madly, and some even made very monkey-like hooting sounds.
Despite his best efforts, Vir was unable to suppress a smirk at their reactions, though it was hidden under his featureless black mask.
Using his most powerful voice, he addressed the governor.
“Governor Asuman, I’m afraid the tablet you so regret signing has already been copied dozens of times. By now, it will have reached the hands and hearts of Gargans well across the city. As such, should you renege on our agreement in any way, I fear a rebellion will be all but guaranteed. And while I am sure your guards could suppress a normal insurrection, do remember that I personally slaughtered hundreds of Ash Beasts on my own. And that, as you have already mentioned, I bear the support of both the Iksana and the Baira—and will be leading said rebellion myself.”
A heavy silence fell across the room.
“Your regime will fall, Asuman, should you fail to keep your end of the bargain.”
Vir knew he was playing a dangerous game, invoking the name of the Iksana. It was only a matter of time before his lie was exposed. And yet, it was still a game worth playing. If Asuman agreed to the terms set out by the contract and gave all Callings equal rights—abolishing the Outcast Calling—he’d have a far worse rebellion on his hands if he were ever stupid enough to revoke it.
The ruse need only last until Asuman signed the mandate into law. After that, it would matter little if he learned he’d been lied to. Besides, even if the Iksana’s backing was a lie, the Bairans’ certainly was not. Cirayus’ assistance on the battlefield had proven that beyond a shred of a doubt.
“Perhaps you’d like to hear the Ravager’s proclamation from his own mouth?” Vir asked, nodding to the corner.
Asuman frowned. “What do you mean—!?”
The four-armed half-giant demon threw open the door and strode through, ducking under the too-small doorway.
“Don’t tell me you were about to have a clandestine meeting without me, were you?” Cirayus was followed by an entourage of four kothis, all of whom bowed repeatedly before Asuman, proffering their sincerest apologies.
“Apparently, they’d been given orders to keep me out,” Cirayus grinned.
Naïve of them to think they could stop him, Vir thought, pitying the poor guards. They were lucky Cirayus was in a good mood. The demon may have been as fearsome as a stuffed Ash’va to his friends, but he was utterly ruthless to those he deemed his enemy. Vir had seen ample evidence of that side of his godfather in the Ash.
Governor Asuman’s face, which, until now, had been screwed up in an expression of intense concentration, regarded the Ravager with uncertainty. Finally, his shoulders slumped, and he shook his head.
“No, Ravager. Of course not. I was just about to commit to the agreement I made with the esteemed Warrior of Ash, here.”
“Oh,” Cirayus said, crestfallen. “Well, that’s a letdown…”
“Sorry?” Asuman asked, confused.
“Nothing,” Cirayus replied, waving the governor’s concerns away with two of his hands. “I suppose I’ll take my leave, then.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Er, of course,” Asuman replied, clearly thrown off balance. “Welcome back to civilization,” he said as an afterthought.
“Thank you,” Cirayus replied over his shoulder. “I have a feeling this realm is about to get quite interesting.” He cast a knowing smirk at Vir, who suppressed the urge to sigh.
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It didn’t take long for Asuman to sign the decree, which Vir asked to have copied. He left the royal palace with a copy of the declaration in hand, but instead of handing it straight to the rebellion, he pinned several up on a pole in the very center of town, where it’d be seen by all—Chitran and Gargan alike.
Vir retreated and watched as passersby gave the papers a once-over, before doing double-takes and reading it with their full attention—their expressions shifting from confusion to wonderment, and for some, to suspicion and even outright anger, depending on political leanings.
It wasn’t a true victory, Vir reflected. Not in the grand scheme of things. Nor was it a rebellion. It was, however, a step away from the edge of the Ash.
That’ll have to suffice. For now.
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Vir made his way back to the orphanage, thinking to regroup with Janani, but a prana signature sitting on a barrel within the rebel’s warehouse forced him to divert.
Vir landed lightly at the entrance, pausing as he placed his hand on the door.
Cirayus is back…
Vir knew what that meant. It meant his godfather had finished whatever preparations he’d hoped to make.
And it meant that Vir would likely leave Samar Patag soon, bound for whichever destination the giant had planned.
Vir hesitated.
For the first time in a very long time, he didn’t want to leave. After a lifetime, after crossing a blighted realm, he’d finally found demonkind. The land of his birth. The city that was once his.
And it felt good. Ever since Camas and his goons had alienated him in Brij, Vir had longed to fit in. They’d made him crave that feeling of inclusion.
A hole he’d thought he’d plugged when he’d found Tia. And then again, with the Pagan Order. In both cases, the storms of Fate had conspired to force him on, seeking ever more distant shores.
Now, however, he’d crossed that horizon, and he didn’t want to go.
Don’t forget why you’re here, he reminded himself, squashing such selfish thoughts. He wasn’t meant to live a comfortable life. He was here to save his people. And to do that, he’d do whatever it took.
Vir turned the handle and entered.
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“When I told you to live with your people, I must say, I never expected to return to a masked hero and a rebellion,” Cirayus said, tapping one of the many facsimile masks that had become so popular around the city. “Are you trying to start one? A rebellion, I mean.”
Vir stopped in his tracks. “No, I—”
“Well, count me in if you are, lad!” Cirayus said, laughing heartily. “Been waiting for the day ever since you were born.”
I bet you have, Vir thought wryly.
“I’m not,” Vir replied, taking a seat on a wooden crate across from the giant. “I’m actually trying to stop one.”
“Ha! You’re doing a piss-poor job of that, lad,” Cirayus said, tapping the mask. “These sorts of things are pretty much destined to cause them. What were you thinking, devising such a powerful persona? Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I think it’s grand. A stroke of genius, even. Just… unexpected.”
“Cirayus, Gargans have no lives,” Vir said, looking off into the distance. Past the warehouse walls. Past the Chitran sector and into the slums. “No, it’s worse than that. They’re pretty much prisoners here. To this day, the Chitran subjugate my people, subjecting them to a life barely worth living. I couldn’t bring myself to witness all that and do nothing, Cirayus. Something had to change.”
“Aye, and dangerous gambit it is, lad. You walk a razor’s edge between peace and anarchy.”
“I know,” Vir murmured.
“You’ve succeeded, then? Seeing how Gargans aren’t rioting in the streets as we speak?”
“I think so,” Vir said. “Asuman has agreed to abolish the Outcast Calling and remove the limitations on Gargans preventing them from moving between Callings.”
“And?” Cirayus said, crossing his arms. “Are you satisfied with this state of affairs?”
“Of course not,” Vir scoffed. “But a rebellion now would be suicide. I’ve seen what the rebels here are like, and I’m not convinced that the city would be any better with them in power, even if they did succeed. Which they wouldn’t.”
“Aye. So I’ve learned,” Cirayus said sadly. “The real warriors have been sifted out, put to work elsewhere. Only the dregs remain.”
“You’ve been gone so long,” Vir said, shifting topics to what he hoped was a lighter one. “I take it you accomplished whatever it is you set out to do?”
“Aye,” Cirayus said, stroking his beard pensively. “I learned of what transpired after I left this realm. And of what is to come.”
“What do you mean?” Vir asked.
“As you may already have learned, the Chitran force Gargan warriors to fight at the Ash Boundary. A policy that went into effect soon after the fall of Samar Patag, I’m afraid. While the years since may not have been kind to the denizens of this city, they have been far worse for those doomed to fight at the Boundary.”
“The Boundary…” Vir echoed.
He’d known this was the case. It’d torn open a hole in his heart when he’d first heard of it from Janani. A hole that grew wider with each day that passed, bringing with it more Gargan deaths.
“And yet, there can be no successful rebellion without the aid of the Gargan Warriors who remain,” Cirayus said. “By virtue of their continued survival, the survivors there are all grizzled veterans. Said to be among the best in the realm.”
Vir grunted in approval. “Fighting Ash Beasts day in and day out will do that to you.”
“Aye,” Cirayus said. “And it is why you must venture there.”
Vir looked the demon in the eyes. “You want me to unite the Warriors there?” he asked, surprised Cirayus had brought it up. He’d already been hatching plans for rescuing his Warrior brothers.
Cirayus held up the mask. “You seem to have a knack for this kind of thing. Word has already spread to the other clans. Which means it has also spread to the Boundary. Rally those warriors. Protect them. Give them the hope they need to fight for a brighter tomorrow.”
Vir bit his lip. Yes, he’d planned on going, even if Cirayus hadn’t brought it up. Yet, the thought of leaving Samar Patag so soon, especially now after they had won such a hard-fought victory, wrenched his gut.
“Does it have to be right away?” Vir asked. “As much as I want to help them, the city is in a tumultuous state right now. I don’t know if I should leave just yet.”
Even if he left Shan behind to guard the place in his stead, Samar Patag would need help navigating the new world, and Bolin was still unconscious. How could he leave now, when his people needed him the most?
“Alas, lad. I wish you could. For there is a reason to hurry,” Cirayus said, the corners of his mouth inching upward. “The Bairan Tournament is to take place later this year, and you need to be there.”
The Bairan Tournament, Vir thought, chills running down his arms. His only opportunity to obtain Balancer of Scales.
“You have served them well,” Cirayus said. “Your clan is a hardy bunch. They’ll survive without you. But tell me. Will your rebellion benefit from having Clan Baira’s Ultimate Tattoo?” Cirayus asked, studiously examining his fingernails.
The giant had him and they both knew it. Vir set his jaw in determination. “The Boundary. When do we leave?”
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“Well played,” Ekat’Ma commented to her companion, who was also covered in a hooded black cloak.
“For an overlander, anyway,” the Iksana ghael rasped back in a slightly deeper scratchy half-whisper. “It was right to keep tabs on the Ravager. Who would have known he’d brought such an interesting individual from the Ash? Shall we intervene?”
“No,” Ekat’Ma replied. “We fulfill the intelligence bureau’s purpose, and return to Jallak Kallol to inform Raja Sagun’Ra of all that has transpired.”
The Akh Nara had returned. Had she not seen it with her own Sight, Ekat’Ma may never have believed it. What lay ahead, she could not be certain. Years of demonic avarice had made her apathetic to the plight of the other clans.
And yet, she couldn’t seem to suppress the quickening of the beats that thumped within her chest.
The times may be changing. At last.