It struck Vir just how much leverage the Panav had over the other races. Ignoring the Baira, whose Bloodline Arts made them resistant to harm, every other tribe relied exclusively upon their clan for healing. It was no wonder the Panav hadn’t ever bothered with training their Warriors to the extent of the other clans—they simply had no need to.
The other clans would be more than happy to man their portion of the Ash Boundary in return for priority healing. Of all the clans, Vir believed the Panav to be the most cunning.
“What of the prisoners?” Vir asked.
“That situation is a bit less optimistic, I’m afraid,” Gunin replied. “They rule with an iron fist here. Especially after their debacle subjugating you and your forces. The Garrison commander was executed, and they’re now thrice as hard on the prisoners as before. I’m afraid whatever hope they once had is now long gone.”
“There must be some out there who show promise, though?” Vir asked.
Gunin sighed. “A few, though nobody in their right mind would rise up now. Even convincing them to escape will be an undertaking.”
“I see.” Vir found it difficult to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “It seems our path will be longer than I’d initially hoped.”
“Yes, well,” Gunin said. “If you can solve the morale issue, I do think we have a fair chance of toppling the Garrison. And from what I hear, the situation is similar at the others as well.”
“This is good information,” Vir said. “Continue your observations.”
Gunin was silent for a moment. “And yet, you feel I am not worthy of your trust.”
“I don’t mean to—” Vir began.
“I understand,” Gunin replied. “You need something more. Further proof. I don’t blame you.”
Vir’s eyes narrowed. “You’re saying you have such proof?”
“I do. Ajune.”
“The one who sabotaged our camp while I was out at Praya Parul?” Vir asked. In fact, Ajune was the other piece of business Vir needed to take care of.
“The same.”
“He needs to die,” Vir said simply. “He had the chance to walk away. Instead, he sabotaged us, causing the deaths of many.”
“My thoughts exactly. I thought you’d want him dead. There is no need.”
“Gunin, I’m sorry. I can’t let him live. You know this. There is only one end for traitors.”
There was no room for negotiation in Vir’s mind. Certain actions simply could not be forgiven. Vir recalled the demon who’d succumbed to that Warrior Chakra attack, and the dozen others who’d died. All because of the actions of this one Ajune.
“Oh, you misunderstand,” Gunin said. “There is no need to kill him… Because I have already seen to his death.”
Gunin’s preemptive action went a long way to prove his fealty to Vir. Not only had the Kothi seen to Ajune’s death, he’d done so in a way that raised no suspicion—convincing various Garrison Warriors that the traitor couldn’t be trusted.
He was right, of course. A turncoat could rarely ever be trusted by either side.
Vir was impressed, and was even more so when Gunin had given him information of Cirayus’ whereabouts. He’d left the Garrison not long ago, and should be on his way to the next.
After thanking Gunin, Vir slipped out of the Garrison, reunited with Shan, and was currently bounding north, toward the border with Panav.
Preparing himself to intercept Cirayus at the next Garrison, Vir stocked up on prana by killing off the many Ash Beasts he found on his way. Gunin hadn’t been joking—the number of beasts was downright startling, and there were far too few demons to defend the whole Boundary.
It worried him to imagine these creatures attacking unsuspecting villages. What terror brewed within the Ash to cause such a thing?
Amidst these thoughts, Vir came across a red figure seated near the Boundary. The demon seemed to be in the midst of animated conversation, despite being alone for miles.
If the four arms and large stature weren’t a giveaway, the enormous sword strapped across the demon’s back certainly was.
“Cirayus,” Vir said, landing lightly next to the demon.
“Wait! Just wait!” Cirayus said. “He’s right here!”
Vir frowned. “What’s going on?”
“Lad, where have you been? I was worried sick. It’s Maiya, lad! She needs our help.”
“Here?” Vir asked, looking around.
“Not quite,” Cirayus replied. “You nearly missed the Tournament. Even if we hurry, I fear we may not arrive in time.”
“The Tournament…” Vir’s eyes bulged. The Bairan Tournament. It was supposed to have been months away! “The time shift…”
Those months had been burned away during his time in the Ash.
“But I can’t go now,” Vir said. “My demons need me. They need you! I was hoping you could help them. We need to train. We need to expand our forces.”
“Lad, there is no time. You must make a choice. Either participate in the Bairan Tournament to compete for Balancer of Scales… Or return to your army.”
Vir hesitated. Worries about his demons filled his mind. They weren’t ready. They needed him to build a network of Ash Gates. And what if the Gate he’d gone through collapsed? They’d be stranded in the Ash without him.
“Fine,” Vir said at last. “But we need to make a little detour first.”
71
BLESSED CURSE (PART ONE)
Agony. Torture. Crippling, unending pain.
The past months had been a waking nightmare for Maiya.
She thought she had it under control. While the pressure she’d felt upon assuming the mantle of the Blessed Chosen was unlike anything she’d experienced, Maiya was no stranger to pain.
The pain would subside, eventually. She merely had to tough it out like she always had. Or so she’d naively thought.
Days passed, and yet the pain did not subside. Instead, it grew and grew, seeping into her. For this was no physical change. It was something deeper. Something that touched at the very core of her being.
And she’d been utterly unprepared to deal with it. The situation had worsened to where even the Children had grown concerned. This was not a normal reaction, they said. Something was amiss.
Yet instead of seeking help, they prayed, believing Maiya’s issues to be a sign of strength. A testament to the great power the Hallowed Prana Swarm was bestowing unto her.
If only they knew the truth.
Mind polluted with the fog of pain and stress, Maiya had sealed herself in her chambers. She’d lost her appetite and stopped eating entirely as of late.
Her muscles, once well-toned and hard, had atrophied, leaving her weak and barely conscious.
Maiya slept more and more these days, feeling her life slip slowly away. When Cirayus finally called to check in on her, it was far too late. She was so weak that she could no longer even hoist herself out of bed to pick up the orb.
Maiya couldn’t recall a single time in her life when she’d felt this horrible.
I’m going to die… Aren’t I? Maiya thought, wiping the sweat from her brow. The fever had persisted for a week now, and showed no signs of abating.
When the communication orb flared to life, Maiya barely registered it. A voice full of concern came through.
Cirayus again, asking for her. Maiya wanted nothing more than to tell him of her pathetic situation, if only to have someone to talk to. How many times had it been? She’d lost count. She was sure the orb would lose its charge soon, and then it would be too late.
And then a new voice sounded.
“Maiya?”
Maiya’s heart skipped a beat. She knew that voice. It was dear to her. So terribly dear.
“Vir…” she rasped through her parched throat.