Where are you now, Ekanai? Shardul? he thought in spite.
Vir dodged lightning bolts and wondered if he might not intentionally get hit by one to get his ancestors to appear.
Until he felt a presence behind him.
Vir whirled, expecting another beast. Instead, he found an impossibly beautiful woman smiling at him, with hair as white as snow that reached down to her back, wearing a simple white dress.
It doesn’t have to be this way… the woman’s musical voice transmitted to Vir without sound. The burden is not yours to bear alone.
Then she was gone. The scene shattered like a broken mirror, and Vir fell into an endless void of darkness.
When he woke, it was through the thick haze of a half-remembered dream.
Maiya. Neel. And… someone else?
Memories flickered through his mind. Brij. The Godshollow, but perhaps because of Maiya’s communications orb, Vir’s thoughts focused on the bandy. How many years would it be before they reunited? Would Neel still be alive? The boy wasn’t old for a bandy, but he was close. It wouldn’t be inconceivable for him to have passed.
Lightning struck outside. Torrential rain darkened the already-blighted sky, battering the forest and mirroring his heavy thoughts.
But that was outside. Nestled within his new abode, and with Cirayus nearby, Vir felt safe and secure.
“How do you feel, lad? Not even last night’s storm could wake you.”
“Groggy,” Vir replied, taking in his surroundings. “How long was I out?”
Cirayus had expanded the home while he’d slept. Where before there was a single room, now there were three, with the living space having expanded deeper into the mountain.
“Long enough to recover from your overtraining.”
A day, at least, Vir thought. Nearly another week in the Human Realm.
“Sorry. I lost track of time,” he said, blinking away the cobwebs. “Speaking of, how do you keep track of time here?”
The lack of a day/night cycle affected him more than he’d thought, forcing him to stay awake when he would normally have slept, and sleeping when he should’ve been active.
“I learned to develop an innate sense of time centuries ago. Really about the only solution here in the ash, other than a time stone, and I don’t have any of those.”
“Uh, time stones?” Vir asked. This was the first he’d heard of such a thing.
“Obsidian tablets made of volcanic rock, etched with pranic inscriptions. We use them for a variety of tasks, from locking doors to transcribing messages.”
“So, like orbs?” Vir said. “Except instead of crystal, you etch them on plates!”
Cirayus stroked his beard. “Aye, I suppose you’re right, though our plates cannot keep a charge, and we do not use them for combat purposes. Time stones burn a special incense stick. When powered with prana, they detect the amount of incense burned and display a time reading.”
That’s kinda ingenious, Vir thought. He wondered why obsidian tablets couldn’t hold a charge, and why demons had never discovered orbs. With their knowledge of prana, Vir figured they’d have learned of it long ago. There had to be a reason, but when asked, Cirayus admitted he’d never delved into the secrets of thaumaturgy—the art of inscriptions.
Vir’s list of topics to investigate in the Demon Realm continued to mount.
“Well, I guess I’ll return to training,” he said, dreading the thought of going out in such a downpour.
“Do you have a death wish, lad? It’s raining lightning out there right now. Just because Ash Beasts can brush off a lightning strike or two doesn’t mean you can. At least, not yet.”
Vir’s eyes narrowed. “Aspect of the Demon God, right? My clan’s tattoo?”
“Aye. Here in the Ash, you’d be untouchable with it. Without that… even with that incredible prana manipulation of yours, I doubt you could manage such a feat.”
Vir considered his words. Lightning strikes contained a staggering amount of Lightning prana. It was possible that someone with Apex affinity for that element might be able to circulate their blood fast enough to shunt the strike into the ground… Although it felt unlikely. Vir doubted it was possible anyone could expand their body’s prana capacity that much. Especially since Lightning strikes were nearly instantaneous.
Besides, Ash Beasts didn’t even have that affinity, which left only one other explanation.
“Prana Armor?”
“You saw it on those beasts with your Iksana Sight, didn’t you? Ash Beasts can cloak their body with armor as durable as seric. A quirk, it seems, of those with your particular affinity. Or so I believe.”
“Trust me, I’ve tried. I know Parai managed it with his cycling technique, but Ash Beasts don’t use that. They’re getting their armor some other way.”
“Then I’m afraid I cannot aid you there, lad. My own armor comes from my tattoo, Giant Hide.”
“Right. So, what now? I can’t go outside, and this home isn’t ideal to work on my Talents. Don’t want to destroy the place.”
“I wouldn’t allow you to train, even if you could go outside,” Cirayus said firmly. “Your body needs rest.”
Vir was about to cite how much time he’d already lost sleeping when Cirayus beat him to the punch.
“Instead, we’ll begin your chakra training.”
That got Vir’s attention. “I thought you said it took years to open the Foundation Chakra?”
“It does. Normally. With the proper guidance and a talented student, we might hasten that process a tad.”
“Hasten it by how much?” Vir asked.
“I imagine we could get you there in a handful of months if you’re diligent.”
So slow, Vir thought. It was a massive improvement, but compared to his progress with his other abilities, it felt like an eternity. Not to mention there were six more to go.
“Your feelings may as well be written on your face, lad. Y’know, your father and I had a saying. More of a mantra, for when we struggled to advance our training.”
“Hard to imagine either of you struggling,” Vir said.
Cirayus chuckled. “More often than you’d think, lad. Of that, I can assure you.”
“So? What was the mantra?” Vir asked.
“Brick by brick. Stone after stone,” Cirayus replied. “The same as any mason building a house. Each stone may not seem like much, but taken together, they form something grand.”
Brick by brick. Stone after stone… “I like it,” Vir said softly.
Vir had no leads for accelerating the pace. He’d simply have to put in the hours.
“Well? Will you accept my training?”
Vir rolled his eyes. “You know I will. I’ll take every edge I can get.”
“Good. Now sit on the floor with me and cross your legs, like last time. Back straight. Close your eyes. Yes, like that. Now clear your thoughts. I’ll be more gentle than last time. Focus.”
Vir attempted to do so, though it was easier said than done with all the hammering rain and cracks of thunder. It was as if the skies had waged war on the turtle’s shell.
“Now, guide your thoughts to the concept of sturdiness,” Cirayus said in a low, soothing voice. “Hmm, yes. Think of the Mahakurma upon whose back we sit. Think of its ancient disposition. It has existed for millennia before you were born and will exist for millennia after. It is eternal, like the earth itself. Solid and unshakeable. Immovable. Yes. Hold this image in your mind for as long as you can.”
Following Cirayus’ guidance, Vir meditated on the concept. This still felt foreign to him despite having done it once before—he normally kept his mind clear, focusing solely on cycling prana or expanding his body’s blood pathways. The act of cycling itself was usually meditative, putting him in a trance-like state.