“We used the Vimana for a multitude of purposes,” Ashani said in a wistful voice, her legs crossed as she gazed out at serenity. “They were works of art. They were research vessels, and they also functioned as portable cities. Some of the larger models could hold and house thousands of souls.”
“Did people tour the world in them?” Vir asked, imagining them as the ultimate long-distance skyship.
Ashani pursed her lips. “Not quite. All our Vimana also served as mobile defense platforms. Crime was nonexistent in our time, but the nature of research and experimentation is that it sometimes led to… undesirable results. Be it guardian Automata gone rogue, or the creation of new types of lifeforms that got out of hand, there was a need for powerful weapons.”
“What kinds of weapons are we talking about?” Vir asked, thinking of the cities that had been built directly under them.
“Weapons that could eliminate even the strongest of Ash Beasts,” Ashani said.
“Even Prana Swarms?”
“But of course.”
Vir paled. Ashani read his expression and quickly elaborated, “There is nothing to fear. Those weapons cannot be activated without special Imperium key codes. Though, you’re wrong about one thing.”
“What’s that?” Vir asked.
“Prana Swarms are not Ash Beasts. It is more accurate to call them Pranite Swarms.”
Vir stared at the goddess blankly, then turned his gaze to the swarm that covered the central spire.
No badrakking way…
“Then…” Vir said, his voice faltering.
“Indeed. Though I know not how, our pranites got loose after the fall of the Imperium. They began to multiply. They… broke out of their original programming. Though, this applied only to active pranites at the time of the fall. Every Swarm in existence dates back to that day. They grow and split, but to my knowledge, no new Swarm has been birthed.”
Vir didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.
“Regardless,” Ashani continued, “the ones who possessed those key codes are all long gone.”
“Maybe,” Vir said darkly.
“Meaning?”
“Just out of pure curiosity… Would Lord Janak have possessed these codes?”
Ashani nodded. “Why, yes, I would imagine so. As the head of the Imperium’s most prestigious pranic research division, his work occasionally resulted in those mishaps I mentioned.”
Oh no.
Vir bit his lip. “Ashani, Janak’s alive.”
Ashani smiled sadly. “Would that it were true.”
“It’s true. Well, almost. Janak is dead. A copy of him still exists. I ran into an avatar of his at Daha—that city I told you about? There was an outpost there, called Valaka Amara.”
Ashani frowned. “Valaka Amara? Meaning the Procession of Immortality. You say it lies in the Human Realm?”
Vir nodded. “Why?”
“I know of it. ’Twas far from Mahādi. Janak sometimes used it for his research. Though I wonder how it came to reside in your new realm. Apologies. I digress. Please, continue.”
“Truthfully, I wanted to tell you, but something felt off,” Vir said. “In all this time, why hasn’t Janak’s copy contacted you? Knowing what I now know… I think you’d have been a priority for him. Perhaps even his top priority, after Siya.”
Ashani shook her head. “I cannot say. This is… a revelation. Until now, I’d assumed he was gone. All high-ranking Imperium citizens had replicas of their minds created, should some tragedy ever befall them. I had simply assumed that they, too, were destroyed.”
“So, it’s not the real Janak, then,” Vir said.
“No. If what you say is true, then Lord Janak has indeed perished as I’d feared. I… am grateful that you informed me.”
“Are… you going to look for him? The replica, I mean?” Vir asked.
“Were this a thousand years ago, I might have. Now, however, I believe I no longer have that luxury,” Ashani said with a smile.
Once more, Vir felt like he’d taken a dagger to the heart.
She can’t go after him. She doesn’t have enough energy.
“Come now, why the long face?” Ashani said, her expression gentle. “Did you not promise not to feel sad for my sake? Among my people, promises were sacred things, you know?”
“There must be others out there,” Vir said, his voice cracking. “I refuse to believe your prana cores were the only ones the Imperium had. I mean, they can’t be. I saw some in the Human Realm!” Vir thought back to the Prana Siphon the Pagan Order possessed, and the orbs the Tribunal carried for personal protection. “Granted, I don’t think they were anything like the ones that you must use, but… You’re not telling me something, are you? I mean, how do you survive for four thousand years on a single core? Hibernating can only get you so far… It doesn’t make sense.”
“It would be impossible, yes. Operating continuously, my energy core would have run out within a few years’ time. Far less, if I use my powers extensively. However, what you are unaware of, is that my body consumes no power when I lie dormant. Sometimes for years, sometimes decades at a time, arising only when an imminent threat appears.”
Vir wasn’t buying it. “You’re telling me such large threats appear so infrequently? I’d think it’d be a daily occurrence.”
“You are correct. There is little I can do near the center of the city. I simply try to protect the areas I can. Janak’s home, and the surrounding area, mostly. Enough for my people to return to, though after all that you’ve said, I now fear my efforts to have been a waste. Truly… what meaning have my actions had, I wonder?”
“That’s not true. It has had meaning. It has,” Vir said, though even to his ears, he sounded like he was convincing himself.
“Indeed,” Ashani said, firming her resolve. “For I have met you. I shared the tale of my people. Now, you can inform the world of our fate. So that we are not forgotten.”
How could I have messed up like that?
He’d destroyed Ashani’s only spent core. Such a precious Artifact, and he’d given no thought to whether his way of charging it had been safe.
“How long?” he asked. “Until your current core runs out?”
“’Tis only partially full. After I send you back… Around a month of continuous time.”
“A month?”
Ashani reached over to squeeze Vir’s hand. “’Tis longer than it seems. When stretched, it might even last years.”
“But what life would that be?” Vir asked. “You’d be dormant, sleeping your life away like you’ve always been.”
“Please don’t feel that way,” she breathed. “I am but a vestige of an age long past. Of a people who no longer exist. I know that now. I suppose I had always known. My time would have expired one day, anyway. What difference does it make if it happens a few centuries early? I have the answer I sought for so long. Even if it isn’t the one I hoped for… I can rest peacefully now. All thanks to you.”
“No!” Vir said. “I’m the reason you’re depleting your energy.”
If you didn’t have to send me back, how much longer would your energy last?
Vir couldn’t voice those thoughts. As much as he wanted to help Ashani, he couldn’t linger here forever. His place was with Cirayus. With Maiya.
I shortened her lifespan so much, and there’s nothing I can do to fix it.
Vir felt like curling up in a ball in some dark corner.
“Please, you bear no blame for what happened. That core was spent. You did nothing to worsen the situation.”
As it stood, Vir had no confidence he wouldn’t just break another orb. It hadn’t broken while he’d been filling it; it’d broken after, giving him no inkling why.