At this rate, he expected he’d be good as new in just a couple more days. The only problem was…
Vir caught Haymi glancing at him, but she broke her gaze the moment their eyes met.
She knows, doesn’t she?
The mejai hadn’t breathed a word of it, and based on Tia’s behavior, Vir suspected she didn’t know, either.
I’m gonna have to confront her about this at some point.
The thought sucked all the merriness out of him.
To celebrate, Tia had taken them to one of the finest eateries in Avi. Not the fanciest, but according to her, the most delicious. Sadly for his four-legged friend, bandies weren’t allowed in, so Neel waited at home.
They occupied an entire long table, upon which a bevy of food was arranged. From delectable desserts to mounds of the freshest fruit, rice dishes, stir-fries, barbeque skewers, and more. The dizzying array was almost as impressive as the banquet the mining company had hosted for them.
But where the variety and quantity might’ve paled to the banquet’s food, the taste was incomparable. Vir had never experienced such a vast range of tastes and textures in his life. Flavors compounded upon one another, and just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, the dishes synergized with each other in a way Vir never knew was possible. This wasn’t merely sustenance—this was art. Taken to its limit, and perfectly executed by master chefs.
“Why so glum, Apra?” Tia said. Ever since the Brood Matron battle, she’d taken to shortening his name as a nickname, and the others had followed suit soon after.
“Just thinking that I’m never gonna enjoy regular food like I used to. I mean, after tasting this stuff. It’s unfair. Now I’m gonna have to splurge on expensive food.”
Vason burst out laughing again. “Welcome to our life, friend. Our Tia over there loves herself a good meal. Brought up on only the finest food, y’see? She won’t even touch ‘standard’ fare.”
“Well, sorry. Not my fault my parents spoiled me silly,” the freckled blonde replied, pouting as she stuck a fork into a kebab.
Vir had to admit, the Matron fight was one of the most exciting battles he’d ever fought, and it wasn’t just because of the danger. Fighting in a party was something new to him, and if he was honest with himself, he enjoyed it. Far more than he thought he would.
Wonder how good it’d be if I told them who I really am… Vir idly thought. Of course, he wasn’t naïve. He wasn’t about to take that risk, knowing how much Tia hated demons. While he desperately wanted to prove her wrong, he understood where her feelings came from.
Vir hated the Hiranyan Knights for what they did to Rudvik, Apramor, and Aliscia. Given a chance, he’d gladly end their lives. Then again, they weren’t evil. He’d heard the tales of their great deeds—of lives saved, and famine-stricken towns receiving their aid. If he’d been one of those people, maybe he would’ve felt the opposite. Maybe he’d have admired the knights.
One thing was for sure, though. People didn’t change. Not easily. Convincing Tia of the benevolence of demons was likely to be a doomed endeavor.
And how did Vir know that demons were good in the first place? His only experience with them was on old man Bakura’s slaving ship. The demons there hadn’t seemed evil, though he’d spent little time with them.
These thoughts filled Vir’s mind as they wrapped up at the eatery, as well as thoughts of Parai the Ancient. The man hadn’t spoken a word, and yet Vir had learned so much from him. Perhaps as an older incarnation, his personality had washed away. Perhaps that was all he could do.
The prana cycling technique he learned had certainly saved his life in that situation, but what else could it do? Unless he suffered a grievous back wound again, as it was, the ability was useless.
But if he could adapt the cycling pattern and make it safe, he’d have yet another defense mechanism. While Toughen helped, its effect was akin to light armor, and not nearly as effective as magically enhanced armor. And while he could stop his wounds from bleeding, nothing he had accelerated his recovery rate.
Taken to an extreme, he might even close wounds during battle. Such an ability would be incredibly painful, but also incredibly effective. It’d allow him to take risks he’d otherwise dare not consider.
Boosting his vitality wasn’t the only benefit prana circulation could yield. From what he’d seen of Parai, the demon might’ve used it to strengthen his attacks as well.
The issue was, Vir, as always, lacked an instructor. Someone who could guide him safely through the steps to attain those abilities. And until someone like that came along, Vir hesitated to experiment, recalling what happened when he was learning Prana Vision.
Before they left for the Brotherhood Sanctum, Vir packed some food for Neel. The bandy had helped so much in the forest, he’d felt terrible for leaving his friend behind. The least he could do was bring him some treats.
Sure enough, Neel was there to greet them the moment they entered the room, wagging his tail and running circles around their legs with excitement.
“Rejoice, Neel!” Vason said, petting the bandy. “Your master’s brought back some delicious food!”
“Are you sure he can eat that, though?” Haymi asked. “Wouldn’t want him puking all over the floor, would we?”
“Dunno! Never given him food this fancy. Guess we’ll find out?” Vir replied sheepishly.
“Well, he seems to like it, at least?” Tia said with a yawn, smiling at the bandy who tore into the food the moment Vir laid it before him.
Filled and sleepy, the rest of the party retired to their beds, while Vir walked to the Executor’s booths with Neel in tow.
“Enter. Balindam booth,” an Executor said soon after Vir arrived in the waiting area.
He entered the booth and shut the door. Neel obediently sat on his haunches in a corner, eyeing the veiled figure with suspicion.
“I’m here to redeem my karma for more information about the Pagan Order. And… a means of transport to get there, if possible.”
While he could’ve ridden Bumpy, Vir was leery of taking the injured Ash’va on long journeys.
Maybe now, with this money I have, I can heal the poor beast. Something to look into.
The Executor replied in a deep baritone, “Your actions to date have been exemplary, Acolyte. In fact, your feats have been mentioned in Executor circles. You’ve certainly accrued enough karma for your promotion to Shadow. You need only complete more contracts to obtain it. Your current karma stands at 9,745. This is more than sufficient for the favors you seek.”
Vir nodded. The Brood Matron subjugation earned him a great deal of both karma and coin. With his earnings, his coin purse now held a seric coin, sixty-two silvers, and thirty coppers, and he’d amassed nearly ten thousand karma. More wealth than he’d ever owned in his entire life. Enough for a trip to the Pagan Order, and onward to the Ashen Realm by way of Matali. If that was his destination.
“How much to charter an Acira?” he asked.
Though the Executor wore a veil, he could swear the man grinned.
“How very curious that you ask. I’m afraid we will have to defer your request regarding the Pagan Order.”
Vir cocked a brow. “Defer? Why?”
“Because a contract has come in for you. Asking for you. By name. A most lucrative and rare contract, in fact.”
“Sorry, but I’m not really looking to take on any more contracts right now. Just want my information on the Pagan Order.”
“Would you say the same, knowing that this contract comes directly from Lord Reth?”
“Reth? The ruler of the Pagan Order?” Vir couldn’t hide his surprise—why would the Pagan Order, who had no relations with him until now, ask for him by name? How did they even know who he was?