Someone strongarmed that bullheaded girl? I have to meet this person.
“So anyway, we’ll be leaving shortly. Just wanted to check up on you, y’know? We’ll be back in a few days, so don’t go anywhere!”
“I’ll be here.” For all her faults, he was happy for Tia’s concern, and thankful she wasn’t insisting on following wherever he went. Perhaps he’d been a bit premature in condemning her nosiness. “I’m afraid I have preparations to make,” he said at last, standing up. No one rose to stop him.
When he finally left the inn, it was with a sense of remorse. In another world, perhaps Tia wouldn’t have hated demons as much and they might’ve continued adventuring together for years to come. Still, even with all her prejudice, Vir couldn’t bring himself to hate her. Spear’s Edge had done so much for him, and they’d been truly good friends. Tia was just a product of her unfortunate circumstances, and after what Zora said, her hatred was perhaps not unwarranted, which only saddened him more.
He could hardly complain about completing this mission alone. And he wasn’t alone. He’d be fighting alongside the Pagan Order. While they’d only just met, they were the first demon community he’d encountered. Perhaps the only one like it in the whole realm. And that was worth fighting for.
42RAIDERS OF THE NIGHT
Vir awaited his summons for the raid by meditating cross-legged in the subterranean room the Pagan Order had given him. His room. One that would remain his possession, even if he left.
Come to think of it, I haven’t had a place to call my own ever since Brij…
He was just a temporary visitor at Riyan’s abode, and since then, he’d either slept in inns, or under starlight. Now that he thought about it, he understood how much he missed having a home. It wasn’t just the home itself; it was the people, too.
Vir had spent the past day exploring both the Undercity with Badal, and the Upper City with Spear’s Edge. True to their word, they hadn’t pried anymore about his upcoming mission. They’d visited merchants, parks, pubs, and had even watched a play put on by local actors.
In that time, Badal filled him in on how the Undercity society operated. All demons living there were given a small stipend of food. Enough to subsist on, but not much more. Gainful employment was expected of all demons, though no restrictions were placed on what jobs anyone could take on. Overall, it sounded quite idyllic to Vir. Brij never had a stipend like that—if you couldn’t feed yourself, you’d starve.
All the touring had left him exhausted, and he was glad to return to his room to relish his time alone. It allowed him an opportunity to consider his own abilities and advancement, which he’d neglected due to all the goings-on. If he was honest, he missed the days of training with Riyan, each day focused solely on strengthening his body, tempering his mind, and delving into the mysteries of prana.
As he’d soon found out, though, progress with prana grew more and more difficult the more proficient he became. The breakthroughs came rarely these days. A fact that irked him.
The best leads he had so far were Parai the Ancient and Narak the Destroyer’s visions.
For the longest time, Vir wondered how to attain the effects Narak achieved with Balancer of Scales—manipulating the weight of objects—without his tattoo, but came up short every time. Whatever those tattoos were, they gave the wearer abilities beyond anything that could be accomplished by mere prana manipulation. Of that, Vir was sure.
Prana Blade, Blade Projection, Blade Launch… these were all things that weaponized prana itself and were relatively straightforward. But Balancer of Scales affected physical objects. Even objects at a distance.
It really works like orb magic, doesn’t it?
Vir shook his head. He’d been down that line of reasoning many times, and it always ended in a wall. There was nothing to be gained by banging his head against it. He instead turned his thoughts to Parai’s cycling technique. Even now, he kept the technique active, though apart from boosting his recovery time, he wasn’t sure what else it did. And even its ability to accelerate his healing process was really just a matter of increasing the amount of blood that circulated around his back, just via an unconventional pathway.
There wasn’t anything there that leveraged the prana itself, though Vir knew Parai had several other circulation paths. He’d seen how his past incarnations’ techniques sucked in prana from the surroundings, gluing it to his body like armor.
As always, however, the issue was how to safely experiment with those. Done incorrectly, Vir would rupture blood vessels, cause internal bleeding, and very possibly kill himself.
On the other hand, playing around with small amounts of blood did little to help him learn—he’d been experimenting with that ever since he left Riyan’s abode.
Parai’s body had felt like a raging river, with prana surging through him. Vir had thought himself proficient with prana manipulation, but after seeing Parai, he now understood he was just an amateur. His prana was more like a gummed-up dam—full of prana, but one that refused to flow.
Then there was the Pagan Order’s non-magical lighting, where Lightning prana flowed at unbelievable speed, decoupled from its carrier object—in this case, metal. Electricity, they’d called it.
This differed starkly from how mejai used prana. They formed a suction to pull ambient affinity prana into their orbs, which trapped it to power spells. Prana manipulation didn’t even seem to be part of their training regimen.
Or perhaps it was… but only at the higher ranks?
Right as Vir began to grow frustrated at his lack of progress, he heard a series of knocks on his room’s door.
Neel, who’d been sleeping on the floor, perked up and ran to the door, looking up expectantly at Vir.
“Sorry, boy. You’re gonna have to sit this one out. No telling how dangerous this will be, and we’ll need to be stealthy.”
Neel tilted his head at Vir, prompting a sad smile.
Vir opened the door to find Badal waiting for him, dressed in a robe that was as black as the night.
“It is time.”
Vir nodded. “I’ll just grab my weapons.”
“You are sure you want to do this?” Badal asked. “I will not lie to you, Vir. You are the lynchpin in today’s plan. With your powers, we will find the prisoners faster, and with less blood spilled. But this will be a great risk to you.”
“I’m sure,” he replied, staring Badal in the eyes. “I want to help them.”
“Understood. I shall question your resolve no more. Forgive me.”
“Thanks. Truly.”
Vir cinched down his greaves and bracers, donned his cuirass, collected his katar, slung his chakrams around his neck, and wore his chakris as bracelets. He gave Neel one last I’m sorry look before shutting the door behind him.
“There will be thirty-five of us on this raid in total, twenty pilots flying twenty Acira, plus the fifteen raiders,” Badal said as they proceeded down the tunnel. “Our beasts are bred for carrying weight, unlike most Acira. They’re slower and require more frequent stops, but in return, each can carry five, including the pilot. Enough for all fifty of our brothers and sisters.”
Vir nearly balked at that figure. Twenty Acira was an incredible force. He wondered why they needed so many to rescue fifty prisoners, but realized it was optimistic to assume all Acira would be filled to capacity. Depending on how heavily defended their prison was, it was possible they’d have to take off before they were full. Having excess not only allowed them a larger raid force, but also gave them a margin of security.