“Bold words,” Thaman said. “More fit for a future king, rather than an upstart rebel, I’d venture.”
“That’s the idea,” Vir said with a small smile.
“Makes one wonder whether you need the Ultimate Bloodline Arts at all. With the goddess by your side, and your absolute domination of Ash Gates, you could take over the realm with relative ease, I’d venture.”
“Conquest isn’t my goal,” Vir said, shaking his head. “Unification, however, is. I hope to make the Demon Realm—the whole realm, not just my clan—more prosperous than it has ever been before. But for that, I’m going to need the tattoos.”
Thaman nodded. “Right. About that. We need to have a talk…”
EPILOGUE: COGS OF DESTINY
“The conclusion of the Tournament normally calls for a vast banquet with three days of uninterrupted celebration, along with all manner of dancing and other events, culminating in a ceremony in which the reward is bequeathed to the victor,” Thaman trailed off, undoubtedly reminiscing fondly on past times.
“Sounds like quite the spectacle,” Vir said, trying and failing to imagine what tens of thousands of demons all merry-making must have looked like.
“Quite so,” Thaman said, sneaking a glance at Ashani, who was currently walking around, staring at all the decorations with intense concentration. Vir had caught the Raja shooting several glances her way, as if he couldn’t quite figure out whether to involve her in the conversation or pretend she didn’t exist. He seemed to decide upon the latter course of action for the time being.
Clearing his throat, the Bairan Raja continued, “Given the circumstances, I’m afraid we must forego such an event. The public would understand.”
“Forego the celebrations?” Cirayus thundered, making everyone nearby cringe. “Blasphemy! It’s unholy!”
“You don’t seriously propose revelry at a time like this?”
“Not at all,” Cirayus said with a devilish grin. “I say we defer the celebration. Much better than canceling it, don’t you?” Cirayus spat the word as if it were a curse.
“Very well,” Thaman said with an exasperated smile. “We shall postpone the celebration, if that suits you, Champion.”
Vir nodded.
“That said, I can give you the inscription right here and now. I’ve a handful of Royal Thaumaturges who can carve the tattoo on your skin as soon as today, if you desire…”
While the words sounded sweet, the bitter look on Thaman’s face said otherwise.
“There’s more you’re not telling me,” Vir said. “Isn’t there?”
“Alas, there is. I presume your goal is to collect all the Ultimate Bloodline Arts, yes?”
Vir nodded. He’d given a great deal of thought whether to sacrifice the option of obtaining every Ultimate in favor of regular Bloodline Arts, but he’d held off. The promise of their power was simply too great. Besides, Vir couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be a terrible failure to not obtain them all.
“Then I’m afraid I must present you with some unfortunate news,” Thaman said, looking down at the table.
“There isn’t a Thaumaturge in the land who can inscribe all the tattoos, lad,” Cirayus completed. He’d crossed all four of his arms and was leaning against a pillar nearby.
“What do you mean? Thaman just said his Thaumaturges were up to the task.”
“Of inscribing one, yes,” Cirayus continued, turning to allow Vir to see the markings on his back. “See how large Balancer of Scales is?”
The tattoo took up most of his back, and much of his chest as well.
“How do you think you’ll fit all seven of the Ultimate Arts, eh? Not to mention the fabled lost art of the Iksana, assuming you ever unearth that one.”
“Wait. Lost art?” Vir asked. “Why have I not heard of this?”
“Because it’s a tale so old, it might as well be a myth, that’s why,” Thaman said.
All eyes in the room, Ashani’s included, turned on Thaman. Vir never thought he’d see the veteran Raja squirm under anyone’s gaze, but it seemed even he was no match for the eyes of a being from the Age of Gods.
Realizing his discomfort, Ashani looked away, studiously gazing at a nearby pillar. Vir suppressed a grin. She’d noticed Thaman’s reaction and was trying to humor him.
Her plan worked, and Thaman regained enough of his wits to continue his story.
“A thousand years ago, a great war consumed the realm. One of many during the time. The Iksana became embroiled, joining one side. The wrong side, as it were. Jalak Kallol was eventually sacked, and with it went the only inscription of the fabled art ever to exist. Some purport that the whole war was a front to destroy that very scroll.”
Vir couldn’t help but appreciate the irony of their situation. How close it was to his own tale…
“What did the scroll do? Usher in a new era for demonkind?” Vir quipped.
Thaman grimaced, while Cirayus barked a harsh laugh, and even Ashani giggled. Aida said nothing, her expression turning dark.
“Nothing quite so grand,” Thaman said. “Yet, some might argue, far more terrifying.”
“The art was called Reality Inversion,” Cirayus explained. “According to legend, it gave the Iksana the ability to create an illusion so potent as to become real. A spell that could rewrite reality itself.”
“You can’t mean…” Vir’s eyes widened as he thought through what that truly meant.
“Indeed. It seems they could undo death, and even cause the living to suddenly die. The art consumed a tremendous amount of prana, and only worked on a localized scale, but even so… Terrifying, wouldn’t you say?”
“Horrifying,” Vir replied. “To think such an art ever existed.”
Thaman shrugged. “It might never have. Many believe it was all Iksana propaganda. Either that, or a similar ability might really have existed once, but myths and time have warped it far beyond what it was ever capable of. In any case, we will never know.”
“Right,” Vir said, thankful he didn’t live in an era where such an ability might’ve existed. Purging the image from his mind, he turned his thoughts back to the topic at hand. “So you’re saying that if I allow your Thaumaturges to inscribe Balancer of Scales, I will be doomed to forego some of the others.”
“I’m afraid so,” Thaman said. “I know this is not the outcome you were hoping for.”
“Isn’t there anyone?” Vir said. “You’re telling me there’s nobody in this wide realm who can perform this feat? Distance is not an issue for me. It doesn’t matter if they’re in some remote village in the farthest reaches of Aindri territory or deep within the Iksana tunnels. I can get to them.”
Thaman sighed. “Not in this realm, I’m afraid. The only entity who requires this skill is the Akh Nara, and while there are those who seek to preserve your legacy, the last Akh Nara died over five hundred years ago. Time has not been kind to the keepers of this knowledge.”
“Keepers of the Akh Nara’s legacy?” Vir said, raising a brow as he looked at Cirayus. “This is the first I’ve heard of this.”
Thaman looked equally surprised. “You haven’t told him?”
“Told me what?” Vir asked, now frowning. “What’s he talking about, Cirayus?”
Vir’s godfather looked rather uncomfortable. “Well, I, er… It’s a difficult conversation to have, you know? I wanted to be sure the lad was ready. That he’d matured enough.”
“I daresay that time has come, Cirayus,” Thaman said. “Wouldn’t you?”
“’Suppose you’re right,” Cirayus said with a sigh.
Despite every instinct telling him to jump up and shake the information out of Cirayus, Vir forced himself to wait patiently. Such behavior would be unbecoming… Especially in present company.