He’s right… but also wrong, Vir mused. Reducing the population might thwart famine, but ultimately, it’d result in a diminishing of Chitran’s power. Without an edge like the Altani had, the more people a country had, the stronger it tended to be on the world stage, assuming it was run well enough to capitalize on it. Kin’jal was a prime example, while Hiranya and Matali were examples of what happened when one lacked either good rulership or sufficient population, respectively.
Vir would happily witness the downfall of the Chitran, if only the Gargans wouldn’t suffer for it. Already, even without having seen the situation at Samar Patag, Vir was beginning to glimpse just how nuanced the situation truly was.
“S-so,” Darsh said when the silence had grown awkward, “can you tell us about the Ash?”
Though the boy kept his voice measured, he couldn’t hide the excitement in his eyes. Vir might well have been the only demon he’d come across who’d ventured into the Ash. And, well, the journey was long and there wasn’t much else to do, so Vir obliged.
Vir carefully chose what stories he told, keeping the descriptions limited to individual fights against Ash Beasts of various kinds. He didn’t breathe a word about Ashani or Saunak, nor did he give them any hint of who he truly was.
They didn’t seem to notice. Both Darsh and Hetal listened intently to his every word as they galloped—and he ran. Narrating a story while running was a first for him, but the exertion was so easy that Vir was hardly inconvenienced by it.
They made camp a few hours later. While Vir had to keep consulting the tablet Cirayus gave him to tell the time, the siblings seemed to have an internal clock that told them when to rest. For dinner, they brought out some lentil soup Sani had cooked, complementing it with stale bread.
Vir declined, lying that he carried his food with him. He could easily go a night or two without eating. The kids were still growing. They needed all the help they could get.
Vir snuck away, opting to sleep some hundred paces away from them. Close enough that he could monitor them and respond to any threats, while still far enough away to gain a measure of privacy.
Cirayus had recharged his communications orb, and Maiya was due to call.
9ROADSIDE THAUMATURGY
“Are you serious?” Maiya said. “It’s been that long already!”
Two hours had passed in the blink of an eye as Vir and Maiya chatted, and soon the sun was setting in Maiya’s Realm.
As much as Vir wanted to stay up long into the ‘night,’ Maiya could not. After becoming the Blessed Prophet—a development Vir still couldn’t believe—Maiya’s free time had become exceedingly precious.
After her experience in the chamber with the vine tree—a chamber that sounded identical to the one Vir experienced—her status within the organization had soared sky-high. Vir believed that with her newfound power, she was close to realizing Princess Ira’s goal for her within the Children, though Maiya was less certain, thanks in part to the botched assassination attempt on her life.
She seemed convinced there was a secret to the Children of Ash. Something deep and buried, and until she unveiled the truth, she believed that overthrowing the Blessed Chosen was unlikely. And without doing that, she had no chance of taking over the cult.
Vir didn’t care about the Childrens’ secrets as much as he worried for her safety.
Despite his worries, these chats remained the highlight of Vir’s day. He only wished Maiya were with him, so they could explore the Demon Realm together. Verbal descriptions left so much to be desired.
Although saddened that their call only lasted a couple of hours, it meant there was enough charge within the communications orb for another call.
“Talk to you tomorrow?” Maiya asked.
“Sure, but my orb’s running out of charge,” Vir replied. “Might be a couple of days before I can get it working again.”
“I see,” Maiya said, obviously disappointed. Saying goodbye every day was almost as hard as not seeing each other.
As far along as he’d come, powering human orbs was still impossible. Perhaps the limitation would be overcome one day, but for now, he had to make do. Luckily, Cirayus had proven that demons could charge them, and once Vir arrived at Samar Patag, all he’d need was a helper. Someone trustworthy.
“Stay safe, yeah?”
“You too, Mai.”
Maiya’s face winked out, leaving Vir alone in his camping bed.
There was still some time to kill before Darsh and Hetal woke up, leaving Vir at a loss for what to do. After spending so many sleepless nights fighting off beasts in the Ashen Realm, he’d thought he’d look forward to a full eight hours of sleep, but that was nearly impossible for him now. After just two, he awoke fully rested, courtesy of all the prana that coursed within his body.
And so, for the first time in a very long time, he had the luxury of engaging in a hobby. Luckily for him, there just so happened to be a convenient hobby readily accessible.
Vir rummaged through his black Imperium rucksack and retrieved Saunak’s thick tome of Thaumaturgy.
He started on page one.
Six hours later, Vir wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake. Though his mind should only have needed two hours of sleep, after struggling to make heads or tails of the book, Vir felt like he could use another nap.
I thought hobbies were supposed to be relaxing…
The tome itself was bad enough—using jargon such as pathway conductivity, elemental synergy, and loads of other names Vir had a hard time understanding—but Saunak’s notes made it even worse.
In some places, the demon had crossed out the underlying text entirely, replacing it with his own nonsensical ramblings. That was bad, both because it prevented Vir from reading what had originally been written, and because Saunak’s knowledge was far beyond that of the book’s author. Half of his notes were insults hurled at the writer.
From what little Vir gleaned, inscriptions allowed prana to efficiently circulate in a very particular pattern or cycle at a fast rate. Far more efficiently than a demon could manage without the tattoo, and with less mastery required.
In fact, for most demons, creating any type of magical effect at all was nearly impossible, given the prana control it required.
Vir was the exception. Whether it was a primordial ability, or because his predecessors had done the legwork, Vir’s control had always been exceptional, allowing him to reverse engineer Dance of the Shadow Demon even without the tattoo.
Granted, it still wasn’t as good as the original, so Vir looked forward to the day when he could inscribe the real deal on his body. He wondered how much his manipulation mastery would strengthen the tattoos.
Vir also learned that tattoos were simply one application of an inscription. Somewhat like human orbs, these patterns could be inscribed on a variety of objects, though said objects had to have specific prana conduction properties for there to be any hope of success.
Demonic tablets to tell time and perform a slew of other tasks—essentially the demonic analog of human utility orbs—required such a material. Crystals were ideal but expensive. The next best thing was a particular type of ore.
This random bit of knowledge came from one of Saunak’s many notes.
Feeling spent, Vir closed the tome and sunk into his mindscape for an hour. It was a shame he couldn’t bring Saunak’s tome with him there, though perhaps it was for the better. Spending even more time with the book would have the opposite effect. Besides, he had a sinking feeling that he’d need to train under a Thaumaturge if he wanted to make any real headway.
Just as Saunak had intended.
Vir opened the Foundation Chakra and sunk into his mindscape, allowing calming peace to wash over him. The gentle breeze, the chirping birds, and the croaking crickets all aided him, and soon the tangle of thoughts that plagued him unwound, leaving his mind as calm as a placid ocean.