Cirayus’ face hardened. “To truly grasp the weight of the events preceding your birth, we must start at the beginning. With the prophecy of your birth.”
“Prophecy?” Vir asked. “Demons can see the future?”
“Some, yes. Our seers and soothsayers. One of their kind, a woman by the name of Greesha, prophesied the coming of one who would usher in a new era for demons. A demon born within the Ash. The Akh Nara.”
Vir’s eyes widened.
Cirayus pointed at Vir. “You.”
62SARVAAK, OF GARGA
There was so much packed into Cirayus’ words, Vir hardly knew where to begin. More than the mention of the Akh Nara, though, there was something else the giant said that caught his attention.
“One born in the Ash. You’re telling me I was born… in the Ashen Realm?”
“You are Ashborn, aye.”
“Huh. I’d thought Ashborn was just a misnomer people have for demons,” Maiya said.
“In this realm, yes. ’Tis but one of the many human misconceptions, I’m afraid. ’Tis right in the name. Ashborn. One who was born in the Ashen Realm.”
“Is that even possible?” Maiya asked. “Only the greatest human mejai stand a chance of surviving the Ash. I know demons are stronger, but a baby? Wouldn’t that be incredibly dangerous? Wouldn’t it be dangerous for the mother?”
“Indeed.” Cirayus’ eyes wandered to a faraway place. He said nothing for a long moment. “Vir’s parents took a great risk birthing him in the Ash. To this day, there are those who wonder if it was for the best, even with the Artifact they used to protect him.”
“Because she died having me…”
Maiya’s fingers slid into his, and she squeezed, lifting him out of his depressing thoughts.
“Aye. Shari received the very best healing demons possess, but the Ash is a brutal place. We… could only save one of you. It was her decision to prioritize your life over her own,” Cirayus said softly, as a crushing weight fell over the room. A heaviness that Balancer of Scales could never hope to rival.
“She sacrificed herself for me,” Vir whispered. “Why? All for a stupid prophecy? This tattoo has caused nothing but trouble my whole life! I wish I never had it!”
Cirayus offered no counterargument.
“Was it worth her life?” Vir asked.
“She certainly believed so,” Cirayus said. “And, if I might be so bold, so do I. Her death was a tragedy, I don’t dare refute that. But what you are, Ekavir—what you will be? There are no words to describe the importance you will have for the Garga. For all of demonkind.”
“The Akh Nara,” Vir whispered. Nearly all his prior incarnations had mentioned it. At least the ones who spoke. “Do you know what I am?”
“In the old tongue, it means The Perfect Man, though most know it by the tattoo on your chest. A tattoo borne by each of your predecessors. Predecessors who each left their mark upon the Demon Realm. Bar none. Whether it be a golden age of prosperity, or all out war. From Parai the Ancient to Reaper Ekanai, each incarnation became the most powerful demon of their era.”
“So, the Akh Nara are powerful demons?” Maiya asked.
“Not just powerful. Tell me, lad. You knew of Dance of the Shadow Demon. A power that should not exist in this realm. A gift from your past incarnations?”
“Well, not exactly a gift. Most of the abilities I’ve seen in my memories, I’ve had to learn on my own. Shardul offered to give it to me once I’d ventured to the Ash.”
“Interesting. I admit, I know little of the details of how you commune with your prior selves. Did Shardul relent, then? You clearly possess a form of the ability.”
“Not quite. I… kinda learned how to do it myself, after seeing him use it in a memory.”
“From a mere memory, you say? How?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. It wasn’t easy, and it took some effort, but I managed it.”
“Lad, it normally takes a tattoo, and years, if not decades, of training to learn that. Granted, your power is nowhere near as strong as the real thing, but I’ve never heard of anyone doing what you have. Not even your prior incarnations.”
Vir remained silent, hoping the giant would continue. This was the information he’d wanted to hear for most of his life. Finally, it was actually happening! He didn’t dare breathe for fear of missing Cirayus’ words.
“Well, then it makes some sense. All beings reincarnate. Yet only the Akh Nara reincarnates with the memories and powers of his past lives. Some believe he appears to balance the forces of order and chaos whenever the scales tip too far in one direction. Others say he appears during our darkest hours as a beacon of hope and salvation.”
I never realized Shardul and Ekanai had such reputations. What of the others? Which of them had been forces of chaos?
“What do you believe?” Vir asked.
“I believe, that if there is any hope left for the Garga, it is with you, and you alone. It’s obvious to anyone that the scales have indeed been tipped too far in one direction. The wrong one.”
“The Garga… My clan?” Vir asked, piecing the puzzle together. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard the name—Both Shardul and Ekanai’s memories had mentioned it. At the time, he’d lacked the context to understand its significance.
So I’m a Garga… At least, my current incarnation is that of a Gargan prince.
It was all terribly confusing and made even worse by the memories he retained of Ekanai, Shardul, Narak, and Parai. Several of whom belonged to different clans.
“Your clan. A great and prosperous country. One of the best. Until the Chitran destroyed them.”
“The Chitran? Is that another clan?”
“The worst of us, aye.”
Ekanai was Iksana, Shardul a Gargan, and Narak had been Bairan. Parai… he wasn’t sure of, but he’d never heard of Clan Chitran before.
“It became too dangerous for you to remain in Gargan land. Together with a few other of your Gargan retainers and volunteers from the Iksana and the Panav, I came up with a plan to hide you. We considered alternatives, but the Chits had agents in all clans. After much debate, we chose the one place their reach did not touch. We chose the Ash.”
Vir couldn’t guess at the number of arguments that decision would’ve sparked. It couldn’t have been an easy one.
“It was, ironically, the safest place for you. Then Samar Patag fell. Your father remained behind, fighting to his final breath to defend the castle. To draw the invaders’ eyes long enough for us to escape.”
The weight of Cirayus’ words continued to mount until Vir felt like he was being buried under a mountain. How many people have died for me?
His father—a king. His retainers. Those volunteers from the other clans. His own mother.
Dizziness overtook Vir, and only Maiya’s comforting presence steadied him, the security of his hand in hers acting like an anchor in a vast, dark ocean.
“Why? Why did the Chitran attack my clan? What did the Garga do to them?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It was greed. Pure and simple. The Chits are always plotting and scheming. Always eyeing the other clans for an opportunity. Never satisfied with what they have. They merely saw an opportunity and took it. Worse, they even roped in the other clans. Your father stood no chance.”
“The other clans? How’d they manage that? Why would anyone align with them?”
“Their bloodline arts. Demonic Overlord, Coercion, Warlord’s Domain… they all deal with manipulating and controlling others. Their schemes run centuries deep. It was merely a cruel irony of Fate that their uprising happened when it did.”