“What do you think you’re doing?” the Mejai of Realms shouted. “Cease this immediately! Else, I’ll activate your collar!”
Cirayus ignored the man and rifled through the hapless mejai’s belongings until he found what he was looking for.
Retrieving the sack, he returned to the boy and gently placed it in his hands. The boy’s eyes went wide as he realized just how much coin was inside. Likely more than he’d ever even seen in his life.
“Take this, boy. And spread the word of this Guardian of the Ash, you hear? Tell his tale to all.”
The boy nodded vigorously, too shocked to reply any other way.
Cirayus ruffled his head once again, then returned to the Mejai of Realms.
“Was that truly necessary,” the man said, eyeing his subordinate who was just now recovering from his ordeal.
The demon cracked his neck. “Show me a map.”
With no reason to deny the demon, the mejai obliged, and some minutes later, they gathered in Brij’s plaza around a table with a detailed map of the Known World placed upon it.
“We’ve searched here,” Cirayus said, pointing to Parul on Rani’s northern border. “We’ve searched here and even here,” gesturing to Kin’jal and the northern parts of Hiranya.
“But let us trace this demon’s actions, shall we? He fled from Daha after failing to assassinate princess two-face.”
“She has a name! I’ll not allow you to—”
“Then he came north, here to Brij. Why? To resupply. To stock up on supplies. The armorer and the baker both spoke of their wares mysteriously disappearing that night, did they not?”
“They did, yes. We know he planned for a journey. This is not new information.”
“But, having gone north, you expected him to either double back to Parul or continue north. What if, instead, he went west? To here?”
Cirayus pointed to the stretch of land west of the North Legion Mountains.
“There? There is nothing there! He’d have to travel far to the south. To Zorin, before he found his first town.”
“And what better route than for someone on the run?”
The mejai’s eyes went wide. “Do you think…”
“We’ve been anticipated, mejai. This assassin of yours, he’s a smart one. So is your princess. I’m surprised she never called this out.”
“The princess, she… she’s not quite right in the mind these days, I’m afraid. She seems obsessed with catching her old nemesis, General Savar, even failing to sleep or eat. Or so I hear.”
“Well then. I suppose we’d best get to it, mejai.”
The Mejai of Realms went silent for a moment. “You helped us. Why?”
“It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed a good fight, mejai,” the demon replied, cracking his neck. “I find myself wanting a distraction.”
“Gatik. Call me Gatik.”
“Very well, Gatik. I am Cirayus. Centuries ago, I was called Cirayus the Ravager, but most who knew that name have long passed. For now, I am simply Cirayus, of Baira.”
Gatik regarded the giant with new respect. “Cirayus, then. Let us pray for a good hunt. For both our sakes.”
33OF BONDS, BROKEN AND FORGED
Maiya groaned at the monstrous pile of tomes in front of her. When Princess Ira had said that her chores would be reduced from now on, she’d jumped for joy.
Now, she’d give anything to get those chores back. Anything was better than this.
Once again, she peeked at the Magic Clock in the corner. Still another ten minutes to go.
It wasn’t like anyone was forcing her to spend every waking hour of every day sitting in front of her tomes. Except, she didn’t want to disappoint the princess. As childish as it sounded, her determination came neither from a sense of duty, nor from her desire to be useful to Tanya. She just… wanted to impress.
They’d met twice more after her initial meeting, and it was becoming clear that Ira had something very arduous in store for Maiya. Her highness hadn’t yet revealed what that task would be, but Maiya doubted it’d be anything easy. Nothing that required as much training as she’d had could be easy.
The Children of Ash most closely resemble a religion, albeit a twisted and profane one. These cultists worship a Prana Swarm, said to circle around some long-lost city of the gods deep within the Ash. As one might assume, confirming the existence of such a being has proven both foolhardy and dangerous. The goal of the Children is to eventually enter the Ash. Those who do are revered and respected. However, we do know that few who enter the Ash ever return. Those who do say the very air is poisoned. That an agonizing death is all that awaits us there. Why the Children continue to send their members into that hellish realm is beyond us.
When Princess Ira asked Maiya to expand her worldview, she’d been thrilled. Here lay new, privileged information, and Maiya absorbed it like a sponge. If it made her a more cultured individual, she was all for it.
Yet, every tome the princess gave Maiya was on the Children of the Ash. Her father had often warned about the cultists back in the village, but her only experience with them was through Vir. He’d run into one, just before the Hiranyan Knights had arrived, and everything he’d told her about them made her want nothing to do with them.
Nevertheless, she suspected the Children would play a large role in her future. A thought that made her despair.
Ping! The Magic Clock sounded the end of her study session, prompting her to stretch in a very unladylike fashion. It was a good thing the Head Maid didn’t frequent the royal archives where she currently sat. Only a select few were allowed in here, and no tomes could ever be checked out. The Balarian Royal Guard at the entrance made amply sure of that.
Sadly, if there was one thing Maiya dreaded more than spending hours researching the crazy cult, it was the bitter task she was about to undertake.
Returning to her quarters—which had been recently upgraded to a two-story room with a beautiful balcony right inside the castle—she threw off her handmaidens’ clothes, tossing them hurriedly onto her bed, and changed into an unassuming Kin’jali robe.
Comfortable, simple, and easy to walk around in, she wished she could wear it all the time. Her royal handmaiden outfit attracted attention and commanded respect wherever she went, but when she wanted to blend in, she owned nothing better.
The only downside was she had to go the distance on foot. Using an Ash’va would attract too much attention for what she was about to do. Distance-wise, her destination in the Southern Quarter wasn’t that far. What ought to have been a fifteen-minute walk instead took over an hour as she navigated the castle walls, then the walls of the Balarian Guard, then the walls of the Royal Quarter.
Walls after walls after walls. Getting around Sonam was beyond infuriating. It was designed that way in case of invasion, but no general in their right mind would ever consider invading such a fortress, even if it wasn’t the capital of one of the most powerful nations in the Known World.
Would it kill them to just knock a few holes in these walls for passages? On more than one occasion, she’d wished for magic that could disappear the walls, but she doubted even S Tier magic could pull off such a feat. Sonam’s walls made those of other cities look like toys.
With throbbing feet, she finally made it to the alley in the Southern Quarter that had become familiar to her. Ducking into a trapdoor that led into a cellar, she followed a hallway that led to a dead-end, with only a ladder rising to another trapdoor. Knocking thrice, then four times, then thrice again. She waited until the latch on the other side of the door clicked.