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Just hours after being led to their accommodations—little more than shallow rectangular pits that offered the barest protection from the wind, and none at all from the rain—they were once again herded back to the Garrison.
What scared Vir the most wasn’t the proficiency examination itself, not even the ever-present Ash Beast threat, but rather the physical inspection all prisoners were required to undergo. As Vir stood in line, stripped down to his underwear, he prayed that Cirayus’ new body paint sufficiently protected him from the Chitrans’ prying eyes.
If it didn’t—or worse, if they had an Iksana with Sight in their employ—Vir would be forced to abandon his plans.
He strained to get a good look at the examiner, but the tests were taking place in one of the wooden buildings within the Garrison, and the line extended well outside, depriving him of a view. He was just too far to be discovered.
“Relax, friend,” Balagra the Naga—now in his humanoid bipedal form—said. “You should be happy if they fail you. Some of the invalids are culled, but I hear rejects work as janitors and errand boys. Much less likely to die. Though,” Balarga eyed Vir’s tattoos, “I suppose with those tattoos, you stand little chance of that. Are you perhaps afraid that you’ll pass?”
“Nothing like that,” Vir mumbled. After discussing the various options with Cirayus, they’d settled on inscribing a temporary Aspect of the Final Sanctuary on Vir. Final Sanctuary was primarily a defensive tattoo, granting the wielder enhanced protection against various forms of damage. Masters of that tattoo could sometimes even create domes of protection, enveloping those around them, though like all Aspect tattoos, its abstract nature meant its power varied drastically between demons.
For this operation, Vir wasn’t planning on using Prana Darts or any other Ash-based offensive magic. He’d also left his Artifact Chakram and katar behind, so Final Sanctuary made the most sense since it’d allow him to use Toughen and Prana Armor without arousing suspicion.
Even so, he’d been reluctant to paint on any tattoos at all. Cirayus convinced him against that route, however. While it’d posed the least risk, it’d also arouse suspicion when Vir defeated Ash Beasts without using tattoos. It’d make him look like an anomaly, or worse, a genius. Still, while Cirayus had insisted the tattoo wouldn’t easily come off, Vir had his doubts. He’d have to be careful to protect the tribal tattoo on his shoulder at all costs.
“Listen, you seem like a kind soul, so allow me a piece of advice,” Balagra said. “Keep your head down. Don’t make a scene. Stay by my side. I’ll protect you the best I’m able. Maybe it isn’t much, and maybe dying early would be a blessing. But I’ll do this at least.”
“Why?” Vir asked, finally finding an opportunity to ask the Naga the question that had been at the back of his mind. “What’s in it for you?”
“Do I need a reason to be kind to another?”
“You do if it means putting your life in danger. Protecting me could very well get you killed.”
“If I’m to die anyway, at least let it be on my terms,” Balagra said, shuffling forward in the long line.
The demon seemed to have said his piece about the topic, so Vir tried looking for the other two he’d scouted on their journey over, but failed to locate them. The Chits had batched several new arrivals, and there were well over two hundred in line.
“You not only possess an Aspect tattoo, but you also have a bloodline art of the Panav,” Vir said, eyeing the beautiful silver tattoo that marked Balagra’s back. While Vir had yet to memorize all the various tattoos, its Water affinity, along with its color, and Balagra being a Panav naga, made it simple to guess. “That means you’re someone important in the Panav. How’d you end up here, of all places?”
The naga frowned. “Suffice it to say that Fate sometimes deals random hands, and through a series of unfortunate encounters, I landed here. I’ll not speak of it any further… Bemoaning one’s past changes nothing. Still, I am no criminal. These vermin might only care for saving their own skin, but I believe there are other, greater things in life.”
Balagra turned away, saying nothing more. While light on details, Balagra’s explanation confirmed Vir’s suspicions. The naga was cut from a different cloth from the others in this camp.
The line moved slowly, and Vir tried striking up conversations with others nearby, but only received the cold shoulder and looks of disdain. He’d stopped trying soon after.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
It was hours later that Vir finally drew near enough to the wooden building to gauge the prana signatures coming from within. What he saw made him pale.
You’ve got to be kidding me…
There were several signatures in the room, yet of them all, one stood out glaringly. Shadow Prana, and a lot of it. The signature also possessed other, lesser affinities, but it was Shadow that shone the brightest.
On its own, it’d be little cause for concern—there were plenty of demons with Shadow Prana. In this setting, however? It could only mean one thing.
They have an Iksana Ghael in there.
If true, Vir had no chance. The moment the Iksana spied him, his cover would be compromised.
And yet, he had to pass this physical exam.
Think, Vir. What can you do?
As he was, very little. He needed more information. For all he knew, it might not be an Iksana in there. Vir’s mind flew to forging the results of his inspection. If he could figure out how they recorded the prisoners—perhaps steal their logbook—Vir could write in the results of his inspection.
Unfortunately, the only way to know for certain was by using Dance of the Shadow Demon. By the time he entered the building, it’d be too late.
“Can you keep my place?” Vir asked Balagra. “Gotta, y’know… Gotta go.”
“Might need you to do the same for me when you get back,” Balagra replied. “Never expected this Ash Damned line would be so long.”
Vir nodded, then hailed one of the several Kothis who stood watch over the prisoners.
“Pisser?” the guard asked even before Vir asked.
He shook his head. “No, sorry. The other one.”
The guard sighed in obvious annoyance. “Fine. Come along.”
Vir followed the guard to a wooden outhouse nearby, holding his breath as he entered. The stench was some of the worst he’d endured. An impressive feat, given his experiences at Daha.
“Five minutes. And if you’re not back in time before you’re up, you go to the very back,” he said, thumbing to the line that snaked nearly out of the Garrison.
Vir nodded, thinking about how losing his place wouldn’t be so bad. “I’ll be sure to hurry,” he said, closing the wooden door. There was no latch, so he’d have to hope the guard didn’t intrude while he was gone.
Losing no time, Vir sunk into the shadows, choosing an empty gap between two wooden structures nearby as an exit. He worked quickly, both to learn as much as he could and to get away from that stinking cesspool. Vir was almost thankful the prisoners outside the Garrison were forced to dig holes and do their business outside.
Another invocation of Dance of the Shadow Demon brought him to the examination building. Nestled safely within the shadows, he spied on the room, and a cold dread overcame him.
There, clothed in only a loincloth and bearing several tattoos, stood a gangly Iksana Ghael, his head nearly touching the ceiling of the low-roofed building.
This is bad. Really, really bad.
Vir’s problems didn’t end there. There were far too many people in the small building for him to steal the book and forge his results, which meant he’d have to wait until later. Though, what excuse would he give to delay his results? Even if he was sent to the back of the line, he’d only delay the inevitable.
Vir’s mind whirred as he stared at the ghael. It made no sense for an Iksana to be all the way out here. Did that mean the Iksana were helping the Chitran? No, that didn’t make sense either—Governor Asuman would’ve called Vir out on his bluff if that were the case.
Which means…
Vir noticed the metal collar wrapped tightly around his neck.
They’re using him. So he’s a prisoner? Vir thought. Can I use that?
Vir considered it briefly, though ultimately rejected that plan. He couldn’t be sure what state of mind this Iksana prisoner was in. Had they broken him? Had the Chitran promised him freedom in return for cooperation?
There were too many variables, and trusting a random Iksana with his deepest secret didn’t sit well with Vir. No, he needed a better solution.
Still, time had nearly run out. He’d have to return to the outhouse soon, and then he’d be back in line. With one last look at the Iksana’s tattoos, Vir returned.
“You about done?” the guard shouted. “Don’t make me come in there and get you. Oi! You hear me?”
“I’m done!” Vir said, opening the door, his nose wrinkled.
“Good. You wouldn’t have been happy if I had to come get you. Now, back in line!”
Vir rejoined Balagra, who took his turn right after. While the naga was away, Vir’s mind spun. Only ten prisoners remained before he entered the building.
Half a dozen plans came to Vir’s mind, none of them viable. Neither he nor Cirayus had predicted the presence of an Iksana here. Cirayus had assured him the chances of seeing one were infinitesimal. It took a truly special event to get them to leave their caves, which made Vir suspected the Iksana weren’t aware that one of their own was being held captive here.
That might be information Vir could use… if he found a way past this current crisis.
Balagra returned, and they finally entered the examination room.
Once again, Vir found his eyes trained on the Iksana’s tattoos. Something about them stood out to him. But why? Though the Iksana boasted more tattoos on his body than many of the prisoners, that wasn’t the reason.
Cirayus’ words echoed in Vir’s mind.
Iksana’s Purple Bloodline tattoos stand in stark contrast to their bodies.
Purple.
Vir heaved a sigh of relief. Everything would be alright.
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Vir stepped up for his examination, allowing the Kothis to pinch his muscles.
“Well?” a Chitran asked. “How is he?”
“Tough to say with this one,” the Ghael rasped disinterestedly, his eyes barely even registering Vir. He looked like he was bored out of his mind. “Which usually means they’re weak.”
“Hmm. He’s got some good muscle on him, and Aspect of the Final Sanctuary’s good for defense.”
The Ghael said nothing, staring at his claw-like fingernails.
“I suppose we’ll see in the combat exam. Next!”
And just like that, Vir was given back his clothes and shoved out of the building.
He’d passed.
All because the Iksana they’d held captive lacked the Sight bloodline art.
The Fates had been kind to Vir on this day, but he resolved to be more cautious in the future.
Now… Let’s see about this combat exam.