At least Neel’s having a ball… The bandy soaked in all the sights, happily accepting pets and scratches from passersby. For the first time in a very long time, Vir had to put his friend on a leash, lest he run away and get lost in the crowd.
Luckily, his guide incorporated food and sightseeing into their shopping trip. Tia showed him around the various city districts, all of which were impressive and unique in their own right. Some areas bustled with open-air markets while others boasted gardens, jesters, and live musicians. Bridges were ubiquitous, but what Vir didn’t see was any hint of poverty. Either they were well hidden, or there really just weren’t any slums around.
Tia said it was the latter, which Vir found somewhat hard to believe.
The Sawai maintained their own section of the city, walled off and abutting the Legion Mountains to the west, but it was the castle that impressed Vir the most. At the very heart of the city, backing up against the Legion Mountains, two enormous waterfalls flowed on either side of the castle, depositing their water into a lake that acted as a moat around the castle.
The only way in was via an incredibly long drawbridge that reminded Vir of Daha. The castle’s bridges, battlements, towers, crenelations, and other design elements all seemed built with aesthetics in mind, and they each looked like pieces of art to Vir’s eyes. It was a fantasy castle, straight out of the myths and tales he’d heard growing up in Brij.
Finally, Vir found a viable compromise—renting an outfit for the banquet. At two silvers a night, it was a complete rip-off, but slightly less of a rip-off than spending fifteen silvers. Vir chose a formal black, center-buttoned long suit that extended to his knees.
It had more gold inlays and designs than he could count, but retained a certain elegance despite that. Underneath, he’d wear black pants, flowing into black-and-gold suede slippers that curved up to pointed tips.
That was the fashion these days among Avians, or so Tia said.
To cap their tour, Tia took them to a formal falafel sit-down restaurant she loved.
Vir’s eyes popped when he put one in his mouth. With the savory garbanzo bean sauce it’d been dipped in, the tastes assaulted Vir’s taste buds.
“Well?” Tia asked, a sly smirk on her face.
“Delicious. This might be the most delicious meal I’ve ever had!” Vir said, helping himself to more. The dish was paired with an equally irresistible salad full of the freshest vegetables Vir had ever tasted.
“Another Avi specialty,” Haymi said. “There are certainly no shortages of those.”
“I honestly can’t believe how prosperous this city is,” Vir said between mouthfuls. “It feels… unreal.”
“It’s all thanks to the queen’s lineage, and the policies that have been honored for centuries,” Tia replied. “Turns out, a few centuries of bloodless transitions of power and a dedicated effort on maintaining a neutral economic powerhouse does wonders for a country.”
“It’s the countries that constantly get invaded, or whose thrones are regularly usurped, that lag behind,” Vason said with a frown.
Haymi nodded, swirling her glass of wine. “No one wants to do business in an unstable war-torn country. Trust takes times to develop, and that goes doubly true for countries.”
It’s so different from Hiranya, Vir thought. And it was little wonder. Mina Hiranya plotted to kill her brethren while King Rayid allowed roads to go undeveloped and unmaintained for decades. The largest slum Vir had ever seen ringed the monarch’s capital city—if he couldn’t create prosperity in his very capital, what chance did the rest of the nation have?
Vir didn’t doubt that Rani had its dirty secrets, but its prosperity was obvious. People liked living here. They were friendly to one another, they helped each other out. And they walked with such an absolute sense of security, knowing that their country hadn’t been attacked in centuries… it was hard to put into words the kind of multiplicative effect such a country had upon its citizens.
How can Hiranya possibly compete with this?
Vir ruminated on the topic for the rest of the meal, and it was just as they left that things took a surprising turn.
Upon leaving the stained glass doors of the dining establishment, they found a half dozen knights clad in Ranian navy blue and aquamarine plate armor waiting for them.
Leading them was a woman with long, platinum-blonde hair that had been intricately tied into a bun. She wore a one piece robe that had more jewels and embroidery than any garment Vir had ever seen.
Her long sleeves completely hid her hands, which she clasped together in front of her.
To Vir’s immense surprise, this Sawai woman curtseyed and bowed her head.
“My lady, you are expected.”
Tia’s eyes widened in panic. She scratched the back of her head awkwardly.
“Ha-ha. How polite of you! Ha-ha! Well, if people as important-looking as yourselves are asking, I can’t possibly say no, can I?”
The lady only smiled demurely.
Tia turned to Vir. “Why don’t y’all head back to the Brotherhood and get ready? I’ll join you all at the banquet.”
Vir’s eyes narrowed. He doubted she was in any danger with this Ranian delegation, but it did seem like they were strong-arming her into doing something she didn’t want. He cocked a brow, as if to say, you sure?
“Oh, yeah, I’ll be fine,” Tia said, waving her hands. Something was definitely up. She’d never behaved like this before.
“C’mon, friend,” Vason said, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “She’s got leader-business to attend to. Let’s head back to the Sanctum.”
“Right,” Vir said, his eyes lingering on Tia. Both the knights and the woman treated her with deference. The kind of deference you’d give to someone very important.
Guess we both have our share of secrets, don’t we, Tia?
12THE ROAD TO VIR
Maiya fell to her knees. She looked upon the empty dune in front of her, searching for the faintest sign of familiarity. There was none to be found.
“This has to be the place!” Maiya said through gritted teeth. She picked up a handful of sand, allowing it to filter through the gap between her fingers. Why is it gone? How?
Riyan’s abode was missing. Not destroyed, not ransacked… simply gone. In its place was an ordinary sand dune, identical to all those that surrounded her.
She knew she was in the right place. She’d navigated here dozens of times on Bumpy, if not more.
It was as if she were caught in a nightmare. A reality nearly identical to the one she knew. A warped, twisted reality.
Maiya mounted her Acira. The black beast flapped its mighty scaled wings and took to the skies.
No longer did she travel via Ash’va—Acira were many times faster and could fly straight, reducing travel times significantly, even with the bi-hourly rest stops they required. Not to mention the power they symbolized.
Acira were a luxury only the wealthiest Sawai could hope to afford, but her new station granted her a slew of privileges unavailable to the masses. One of which was an Acira at her beck and call. While she didn’t own it, she could use it as she pleased. Mostly. All flights had to be scheduled well in advance, and she shared the beast with several others.
What would’ve been a twenty-minute journey to the caves south of Riyan’s home took only five, and when Maiya saw the pockmarked network of holes in the side of the rolling hills, she breathed easy.
At least that’s still there. At least she wasn’t going insane.